Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Dream Weaver

Analyze this, bitches!

It was a gambling hall sort of place. My brother was there gambling and a couple friends, as well. They had the machines you see at horse tracks where you put in money and make your selections, getting vouchers in return with your picks and your balance.

I wanted to get some money in on the last race and I pumped a bunch of cash into the machine in a hurry. I made my selections from memory, hitting where I needed to on the screen the appropriate number of times and hit print.

Out came shitloads of stamps.

My brother came over to see and I let out an, "Oh, FUCK ME!"

It was clear in that instant that the machine (Which I knew in my dream to be true) had both gambling and postal service functions. I had forgotten to set it to the gambling function before mashing the buttons.

He noted that it was over twelve hundred dollars in stamps.

I left in a huff, knowing I should at least take my stamps with me but I didn't bother.

Then I walk around the corner into the bar and my brother tells me he did keep a bunch of stamps. He then tells me about his Saudi Arabian dinner he had. The type of shit you can't get unless you're in the mountains of Saudi Arabia, he tells me.

All of a sudden I'm riding in the back of some strange couple's suv. We're in the McDonald's drive through. When they order they forget me and I can't come up with the name of the burger I want fast enough. He pulls forward and I decide to go inside and order. I first try to crawl through the opening in the drive-thru, which is larger and lower to the ground in my dream, but the manager who is restocking stuff tells me I can't. I agree to go around and then wake up.


I'm 32 and still waiting for my subconscious to stop fucking around and let me bang some broads in my dreams. Is that too much to ask?

I guess I should be happy I'm not banging dudes in my dreams like the Rooster says happens to him.

By the time you're reading this I'll be needing a par on the last hole to shoot 77.

Here's where I'm going.

Jealous much?

1 comment:

Joaquin "The Rooster" Ochoa said...


With that being said, that golf course needs some upkeep. This is where The Rooster golfs once a year: