18 November 2005

Cookie. Lion Trap. Iraq. Mobsters.

Invented a cookie called the Bit o' Shabby. It was part no-bake chocolate, with inside layers of crumble and other great stuff.

My little sister refused to go into her bedroom because of a pest problem. I went down the hallway of my old home toward my sister's bedroom, my brother with me, and armed with a phone book. A gang of poachers (or something unsavory) had made a trap on the ceiling. We didn't look up. My sister new about the trap, but she didn't warn us about it (suspicious behavior ... ) The trap opened, letting out a lion to jump down on top of us. We hit it back into the trap with our phone books, then went on a rampage shooting the poachers with our hands made to look like guns.

Last night, the first dream segment I had a girlfriend that led me around to interesting places.

The next segment, a group of people that looked like my family, but acted nothing like them, engaged in about every uncomfortable behavior I could imagine and tried to get me to conform. I changed the situation by summoning up physically daunting soldiers, who acted the way I wanted to, and enforced social behavior by example and ominous presence.

This led to the next segment, in which I was a soldier in Iraq. I went on at least two missions. There were ruinous buildings in the desert, and lots of near-future military vehicles. We finally got out of a situation in which we were pinned down. Calvary showed up - horses and an elephant and some weird, giant creature, all elaborately armored, maybe like crusaders. Then they turned into an escort for local royalty.

The last segment, I was with three well-dressed members of organized crime. They drove me around in a luxury car. We went to a diner. I paid my bill, but someone from the restaurant later called me up to ask me why I didn't pay my bill. I didn't understand, so I switched to speaking to Spanish, and made a remark that not only did I pay, but I paid 7$ for my meal and 4$ for my tip, for a total of 12$ (that's dream Math for you). Then we drove to the grocery store. I waited in line for a register (the line of registers went down a slight slope for some reason), then I talked to some men in Italian on my way out. We went through a school, saw an upcoming concert advertised by posters being stapled up by three girls I knew from elementary. Then we were instructed to go to a warehouse/business complex, kill all the "employees" and steal all the plants (drugs). The secretary, who was working for us, called in sick that day, so we were unprepared and one of us got shot. He didn't die, but instead, took the rifle of the man who shot him, then put another of us down (since he was wounded) with a headshot.

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