dreams pt. 1

Last night I dreamed. A friend, Dick B#$%^&*n and I were in the deep south and we were being examined for some project that involved an older lady southern cop in a trooper's hat in a tricked out hi tech cop car and she was very unfriendly to Dick. She came off like a manhater, but she liked me. I asked her why. She said that she was sure Dick was a druggie, but knew I wasn't. I'm thinking it was because he's Jewish and acts like he comes from Connecticut or one of those original colonial states.

Don't know if it's true about Dick, but the part about me was dead on and I was too intimidated to ask why she thought what she thought about Dick...the person, not the...you know, the thing.

I think I consciously bailed out on the dream, because the cop was getting a little too encouraging to me, and I couldn't work up any affinity for jumping into bed with someone who regularly wears a trooper's hat.

So that little run in with a southern cop, dream or not dream, helped me to devise a plan.

I'm going to drink heavily of the wine this evening and compare the results. Dreams that make me look good to me, or the regular kind where I'm either naked in a closet, which I've been in real non-dream life, or somehow impaired and scorned, again, check real life.

If I toss, turn, breathe loudly, have my spouse poke me on accounta too much noise and "your tongue's in the back of your throat and I saw on Oprah (or Martha or Dr. Phil) that you could die as a result," and I get up before 6 a.m., then I'll know to upgrade my brand of wine...get off that Two Buck Chuck and advance two steps to Gallo or something of equally fine caliber. So far, that's the plan.

Got a politician to talk with later. Am I obsessed with wine, food and politicians? Well, two outta three ain't bad.

Now gotta get back to the microwave, last nite's Chinese food is about to come up again...no, that already almost happened...I mean come out again, heated and smelling like it's already been through the cycle.