More Weird Dreams

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50530638747405971.post-10741666181921720402008-01-22T11:48:00.000-06:002008-01-22T13:11:13.289-06:002008-01-22T13:11:13.289-06:00More Weird Dreams<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMjEBEYj8I/AAAAAAAAAK0/jkaPTGLfLjE/s1600-h/goth2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMjEBEYj8I/AAAAAAAAAK0/jkaPTGLfLjE/s200/goth2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130482952418398146" border="0"></a> I don't know why it is, but I seem to have the weirdest dreams. I always did, even before I <a href="http://www.burnttoastdiner.com/2007/02/hanging-around.html">discovered my gift with the cards</a>. I'm sure <a href="http://www.burnttoastdiner.com/2007/11/shhh-im-invisible.html">all the drinking </a>I did recently didn't help either. In fact I'm sure that's why this latest one was so weird, that and being detoxed. You know, I can't remember a quarter of what went on while I was impersonating Claude, not even the stuff I listed here or my own blog. Anyway, the latest weirdness was at least interesting if not fun to look at but it makes no sense. . . In the dream, I was in this forest that I'd never seen before. It occurred to me that I should find Claude as maybe he'd know what was going on. He usually does. At least in real life. When I found him I got a surprise: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMi7BEYj7I/AAAAAAAAAKs/SCdziLKHRSg/s1600-h/ridermounted.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMi7BEYj7I/AAAAAAAAAKs/SCdziLKHRSg/s200/ridermounted.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130482797799575474" border="0"></a>I didn't know Claude knew how to ride. I knew he liked to bet on horses but I didn't know he could ride one (at least he could in the dream). As much as I'm used to seeing him bearded I did have to say he looked HOT! Claude asked me if I'd seen any Signs, and somehow I figured that he didn't mean the type of street signs that my kid brother used to nick, either: <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMi0BEYj6I/AAAAAAAAAKk/fjz_xKK0Bhs/s1600-h/1942262322.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMi0BEYj6I/AAAAAAAAAKk/fjz_xKK0Bhs/s200/1942262322.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130482677540491170" border="0"></a>I told him no I hadn't. "Keep looking. There are six of them. Bring them to me and I will reward you," Claude said and then rode off. I was just about to go looking for these Signs when I woke up. Unfortunately, my cards weren't terribly helpful at sorting this mess out: all I kept seeing were Biohazard symbols (I think we all know what that was all about) and ones that looked like "Danger:Poison" or "Jolly Roger" Pirates' flags. Signs, what Signs? Did this mean something else, as my dreams so often do? Or is my subconscious just winding me up? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMiwREYj5I/AAAAAAAAAKc/BaUdHKxdJDY/s1600-h/20A.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/RzMiwREYj5I/AAAAAAAAAKc/BaUdHKxdJDY/s200/20A.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130482613115981714" border="0"></a> I'd ask Claude but right now he's a bit annoyed with me. I've read the entries several times and I can't remember anything from the time he left and I started my job as a decoy until the time at which Claude got me sober again. Oh well. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/R4jHHWjPqTI/AAAAAAAAANA/0ETo7xoASLQ/s1600-h/danger_poison.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/R4jHHWjPqTI/AAAAAAAAANA/0ETo7xoASLQ/s200/danger_poison.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154588702651951410" border="0"></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/R4jHr2jPqUI/AAAAAAAAANI/5LAdgFggm4k/s1600-h/jrackam.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/__v6jbLDOsj0/R4jHr2jPqUI/AAAAAAAAANI/5LAdgFggm4k/s200/jrackam.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154589329717176642" border="0"></a>Tarothttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17950245970744009610noreply@blogger.com