So, this is only the second dream I’m blogging about since October of 2009. Please, I’ve had many dreams since then, but I’ve been lazy and forgetful. I apologize for not keeping you up with my REM cycles.
But this morning I had a fun dream (or sequence of dreams) involving President Obama. And boy was he a rascal!
The President stands behind a podium. I’m guessing it’s on some sort of raised platform—I’m not sure—because from my point of view he looks to be standing around six feet above me. I could be sitting or standing in the audience, or I might be watching the President’s speech on television and this is the angle the camera (which is most likely on a tripod) is picking up.
I can’t make out the details of the speech, but I seem to have tuned in during a light point—perhaps the President has just told a joke. He is laughing. He has a great smile. He continues to speak in this joyful way words I can’t make out.
Then it becomes clear that he’s chewing gum. No way! The President is chewing gum during a speech! When I realize this, the President comments on the gum he’s chewing. Everyone laughs. (The President hasn’t been the only one laughing, you know. The live audience has been cracking up too.)
Amid the laughter, I realize the President is wearing an electric baby blue suit. He looks like a real old time performer—like Frank Sinatra or a member of the band that plays the school dance in Back to the Future.
The scene shifts or the channel changes, and the President is in a single-man bobsled. He careens around the corner and crashes into a snowbank. “Holy shit! That was dangerous!” I can’t believe the President is doing this—and on a snowy street, not a bobsled run!
A woman I don’t see is talking about that Olympic luger who died in Vancouver. I remind her that the Olypmian she’s talking about was from Finland. (He was not.)
Next, the President is driving an SUV on a narrow two-lane one-way road. He’s dangerously close to another SUV. Is the President trying to pass him? Is the President trying to mess with the guy? I don’t know why the President is doing this. There are icy conditions on the road, both cars are close to the edge of a cliff, and there are no guardrails. (Even though I can’t hear him, I know that the President is laughing. He has a great laugh and a great smile.)
Suddenly, there’s a montage of the President doing all this X-treme stuff. I can’t remember the details, but I know the President’s having a ball. And everyone else is having a great time watching him.
—
Somewhere in this dream, I enter a small store to take a shower. The shower, which is along the back wall, is in perfect view of the store’s panoramic windows. The blinds and curtains are not drawn.
The bells on the front door ring out. A man enters the store. I have to explain to the guy that this is not a store; it’s my office/shower. He leaves, and I close all the curtains and shut all the blinds. But the group of men in shirtsleeves and slacks who have made their way to the windows can still see in.
I guess this means I can’t masturbate now.
Boy, that fag can box!
