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OK, bear in mind that it took a disproportionate amount of Bud Ice and Papa John's to generate this dream. In fact, just a few hours before, I can vaguely remember holding up a plastic cup and screaming "WORSHIP THE BEER! THE BEER IS YOUR GOD!" ...not that anyone could hear me over Jay-Z anyhow.

So here we go. There was this forest, and all these naked babes with big tits were hanging around, giving each other body paint jobs as though it were Fantasy Fest in Key West. It was a very serene scene, something that might come out of a Shinto pr0n video.

Then, I heard all these bagpipes in the hills, and some voices singing what sounded like Danny Boy. But it wasn't an Orangeman parade, because the voices were singing in Hebrew.

Suddenly, out of every corner, Hasidic Jews began to appear! And they were carrying big fucking rocket launchers and machine guns and shit and wasting everything in sight! A couple of seconds later, the whole forest and all the naked babes with big tits were gone.

I am not making this up. My subconscious did.

The only analysis I can draw out of this dream is that I need to get pissed more often.

To get my dreams, I had to go to sleep next to a roaring fire, thinking about my girlfriend, and having like 2-3 6 packs of Mountain Dew in my blood. Mountain Dew is some funky shit.

Well here I was sitting with my girlfriend in a nice house, on the coast, when suddenly she gets up and sits next to the "greasiest" guy that I know of. We call him grease basket, (of his own naming). Anyway, she goes over and starts making out with him, and then there is some other funny girl trying to make out with me, and the house is a giant fire-place. God knows why???

The next thing I know, my worst enemy, the guy who stars on the Basketball team, but is pissed that I have a better point average than him, is chasing me with an uzi shoved up his own ass, and a colt .45 waving in my general direction, from his "Nike" tatooed hand. He keeps shooting me, but every time I think that I'm going to die, I suddenly heal myself.

THEN I am doing one of those "Falling from a plane" dreams, and I can't figure out why. Damndest thing though. Every time I should hit the ground, I start it over again. Over, and over and over.... Needless to say that I woke up with one hell of an adrenaline rush, so I chopped firewood from 6 a.m. PST until almost 10 a.m.

Mountain Dew is some funky shit man...

My dreams last night were filled with hot countries and camels. First I dreamed that I accidentally took a trip to India with my ex-boyfriend. See, my ex-boyfriend is an actor and in this dream, he wanted to break into Bollywood. I told him he'd never make it there because he couldn't sing.

While in India, I wasn't allowed to leave the hotel room, which was weird, but I didn't want to be there anyway. I was feeling guilty because I am married and my husband hates my ex-boyfriend the actor. At some point my brother shows up at my hotel room in India. He says that he has told my husband where I am and that I am in trouble. I tell him that I am not in trouble because I haven't done anything wrong, that I have been kidnapped to India while my ex-boyfriend tries to break into Bollywood. I don't even like this ex-boyfriend and I haven't slept with him, I say to my brother. He says it doesn't matter because Scoresby, my husband, is furious and has already started biting himself. I get so mad. How could my brother let Scoresby bite himself this whole time, during his whole flight to India? To this my brother says, "Don't worry, I jumped here, it only took a minute." I call Scoresby and tell him to stop biting himself and he says it is too late, that he has already eaten a huge chunk from his leg.

Magic zoom into the future where Scoresby and I are fine, but are in the middle of a terrorist attack. For some reason, there are famous people who I don't know living in my apartment and someone has decided to bomb it. There is a crazy chase and a brave escape, but the whole thing is made very difficult by the fact that I have a tiny camel. Yes, a tiny white camel. He is the size of a toy poodle, but he is a camel and he is white and furry and mad at me. I had somehow packed him in a box for 5 years and when I let him out, I thought he would be dead, but he wasn't. So, he was mad and hungry. He kept biting me. I would say to people, wanna see my tiny camel and they would say no and I would show them anyway. I tried feeding him apples and celery but I didn't really know what such a tiny camel would want to eat. At one point, while running from the terrorists, I remembered I had put the tiny camel in my pocket. I reached in and he was nearly dead, since he couldn't breathe in there.

I don't know what happened next, but when I woke up I told Scoresby all of this because it was all so weird. He reminded me what he thinks of dreams. That only your own dreams are interesting to you and while I thought the tiny camel was fascinating, it in fact, was not. I thought I'd just warn him to watch out for the whole biting himself thing and he thanked me for the warning with a sleepy smile.

I was at school, late trying to get to a finals test, and my nose was bleeding. I went into the cafeteria in search of a napkin to cover my nose with until the bleeding abated, but I met several friends in the cafeteria, and became distracted. At this point my nosebleed is gone and forgotten.

One of these friends was dropping napkins, partially eaten donuts, and various other bits of food related detritus on the sickly colored mint green linoleum floor. After a short amount of time there was a pile of trash on the floor, and I watched as a rat ran up onto it, hesitated on two legs for a moment, then bolted across it then fled. I decided to try to catch it, and after a moment succeeded with surprising ease. After I grabbed the rodent and picked it up the rat sneezed and shook off its skin. It leapt from my hand, landing on the floor, skinless with exposed muscles and bone accented by a web of pulsating blue and red veins and arteries like rivers and borders on a map. The now skinless rat stayed relatively motionless on the floor. I notice at first a miniscule amount of blood flowing in tiny rivulets from its nose, then a large amount, a pool of dark red blood spreading across the linoleum...

I wake up, relieved for a moment that the dream is over. After a few moments I notice a strange feeling in my nose, and realize that I am largely covered in blood and that there are two large pools of it, one on my pillow, one on my bed. Altogether about a pint or more of my blood is not where it should be. I get out of bed and stand up, not considering that I have lost a significant amount of blood. I am instantly nauseous and my vision blacks out for about 15 seconds. I stumble to the bathroom, flipping on a light that hurts my eyes. I realize that I am bleeding at an alarming rate still, and before I can even get the bleeding under control, there is a large amount of blood in the sink, and just about everywhere else. I stayed up the rest of the night, as the bleeding would not fully, or even mostly stop, and I became sick from the large amount of my own blood that went down my throat. This really happened, and it scares me still, though it has been some time since the occurrence of this strange and morbid dream.

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