i dream of france...
Okay, so God only knows how I got there, or got here, tenses are always flawed in dreams. I am in a kitchen, making kissy-face with Hilary Duff (or Jessica Simpson, or one of those second generation chicks that cannot sing but sell albums to otaku). We are lying on a counter? And she compares her arm to mine and says she is more pasty than I am, so I mention that my legs are far more pale. She sticks her hand in my pant leg and next thing I know she is grabbing Mr. Happy (you dont have to reach to far up my pant leg to meet him BOHN). And then her father is there.
So I am told to leave, but I decide to fight it out, and just stand at ease (not at my ease, literally At Ease, the parade formation). But then, I mean, why bother, it isnt like she can sing so I go outside, climb into my submarine and drive away. Yes, submarine, Yes drive. It is all steel, painted dull grey and shaped like a submarine. I have to climb into a hatch on the side and it has controls like a go-cart. There is a periscope I look through to drive. It went pretty damn fast.
So I am at this Japanese restaurant that has a live full orchestra and choral group performing. I think I am there with my parents, or someones parents, or people that could logically have been parents. They are accessories to the scene. And I am bored and poking at my yakisoba when the orchestra strikes up O Fortuna from Carmina Burana. Suddenly I am endued with God-like powers, and I take flight and blast my way out of the building.
Where I find myself in a Mediterranean village. Not sure where at first, I assume it is Spain, Torremilnas perhaps, but as I fly around seeing the andalucian style buildings and the red clay cupped roofing tiles, I dont recognize it. I decided to head to the bay, because even without seeing it you can tell this is a coastal town. There is a Spanish Galleon at the docks, historical reproduction, of course, and some guy in a dinghy with a motor being chased by coastal patrol and attempting to ram the Galleon. I land on his boot, hop off and walk to the next ship, which is a restaurant.
So I am in there smoking with three French chicks (turns out I was in france). And they are taking all of my cloves and smoking them with raw abandon, until I am down to two broken cigarettes. So I ask if we can go buy more, and they say yeah. Along the way I spit out my cough drop, and one of the girls tells me to wait until a pedro is passing by to do it next time, guess they dont care for Spaniards.
And we arent at a tobacconist, but at a diner, and they sit me down with this shady guy that wants me to hand him money like a drug deal. And I fumble the cash and everyone at the diner starts shouting drug deal and we all bolt. I am running with this cute chick I know, Kaylee, oddly enough she was one of the French chicks. And she has me change my shirt so I will be harder to find, and then she takes off in another direction towards this guy that is running away from her, and I am walking walking walking walking to get away from the cops.
I see a taxi stand, but they are only offering rides to couples that want to have sex in the back seat. Right behind there is this strip club that has naked women outside shooting water like super soakers out of their jumblies, and I try to get in but they see I am american and wont let me. And I catch a cab and head back to the hotel, where I wake up.
Okay, so God only knows how I got there, or got here, tenses are always flawed in dreams. I am in a kitchen, making kissy-face with Hilary Duff (or Jessica Simpson, or one of those second generation chicks that cannot sing but sell albums to otaku). We are lying on a counter? And she compares her arm to mine and says she is more pasty than I am, so I mention that my legs are far more pale. She sticks her hand in my pant leg and next thing I know she is grabbing Mr. Happy (you dont have to reach to far up my pant leg to meet him BOHN). And then her father is there.
So I am told to leave, but I decide to fight it out, and just stand at ease (not at my ease, literally At Ease, the parade formation). But then, I mean, why bother, it isnt like she can sing so I go outside, climb into my submarine and drive away. Yes, submarine, Yes drive. It is all steel, painted dull grey and shaped like a submarine. I have to climb into a hatch on the side and it has controls like a go-cart. There is a periscope I look through to drive. It went pretty damn fast.
So I am at this Japanese restaurant that has a live full orchestra and choral group performing. I think I am there with my parents, or someones parents, or people that could logically have been parents. They are accessories to the scene. And I am bored and poking at my yakisoba when the orchestra strikes up O Fortuna from Carmina Burana. Suddenly I am endued with God-like powers, and I take flight and blast my way out of the building.
Where I find myself in a Mediterranean village. Not sure where at first, I assume it is Spain, Torremilnas perhaps, but as I fly around seeing the andalucian style buildings and the red clay cupped roofing tiles, I dont recognize it. I decided to head to the bay, because even without seeing it you can tell this is a coastal town. There is a Spanish Galleon at the docks, historical reproduction, of course, and some guy in a dinghy with a motor being chased by coastal patrol and attempting to ram the Galleon. I land on his boot, hop off and walk to the next ship, which is a restaurant.
So I am in there smoking with three French chicks (turns out I was in france). And they are taking all of my cloves and smoking them with raw abandon, until I am down to two broken cigarettes. So I ask if we can go buy more, and they say yeah. Along the way I spit out my cough drop, and one of the girls tells me to wait until a pedro is passing by to do it next time, guess they dont care for Spaniards.
And we arent at a tobacconist, but at a diner, and they sit me down with this shady guy that wants me to hand him money like a drug deal. And I fumble the cash and everyone at the diner starts shouting drug deal and we all bolt. I am running with this cute chick I know, Kaylee, oddly enough she was one of the French chicks. And she has me change my shirt so I will be harder to find, and then she takes off in another direction towards this guy that is running away from her, and I am walking walking walking walking to get away from the cops.
I see a taxi stand, but they are only offering rides to couples that want to have sex in the back seat. Right behind there is this strip club that has naked women outside shooting water like super soakers out of their jumblies, and I try to get in but they see I am american and wont let me. And I catch a cab and head back to the hotel, where I wake up.