I Had A Weird Dream 4

January 15th, 2010

So I had a weird dream last night.

This may catch you off guard (the having weird dreams again).

I was a bounty hunter. I hunted bounties on Nazis. Which is, right there, a recipe for a good dream. It was odd though 'cause for some inexplicable reason my assistant Nazi hunter was Michelle Obama (I know, right?) We went looking for this jack-booted jerkoff and cornered him in a disco rave dance club. Amidst all the neon and lasers and disco balls and bad 70s music, we got into a brawl with our Nazi.

I would go so far as to say we messed him up Proper. So we bagged and tagged our Nazi prize, and made our way back out of the night club (though why, if he was trying to hide out, he'd hang out in a disco club in full jack-booted regalia I will never know), and things got a little weird. I lost the assistant and lost the Nazi and wound up in my old high school, and got in a ninja fight with my brother-in-law.

Though not my brother in law as he is now; no, as the be-fro'd man wearing sweat pants he'd pulled up to his armpits, which (unfortunately) showed off his junk in full detail, as I knew him as back in the early 90s. I'm not sure why we were fighting, other than the fact that we were both suddenly ninjas. And you know you can't have two ninjas in the same room without a fight breaking out. Maybe it's a turf thing?

So I won that fight (because I am awesome) and got into my car and drove off, only I got a flat tire. Though to say my tire ran out of air would be something of a misnomer, 'cause it actually seemed to explode. However, I happened to have my air compressor from my old airbrush that my dad swiped to do air-based things in his garage handy (even though it'd been swiped), and (slowly) pumped it full of air again.

Even though it looked like rubber spaghetti. So I got my car running, but I decided not to drive because suddenly I could fly again. Though as usual, in my dreams my flight is... erratic, to say the least. So one could say I mostly wobbled away through the air at maybe 15 miles per hour; likely, I could've gotten wherever I was going in my dream world much faster if I'd have just used the car.

I woke up at that point, and was kinda confused, because none of that made any sense whatsoever. I got back to sleep and then things were even more incoherent, something about me shooting rays out of my hands at people, but it didn't really stick so I'm not sure what was going on there at all (even less so than the dream I described here). But I thought I'd share that with you, in case you thought I was sane.

Wouldn't want you to think otherwise, after all!

The third installment in this series, and the fifth.

firebomb@obnoxiousjerk.com