Tequila Dreams

So I've recently starting enjoying alcohol again and I decided to have a tequila nightcap...bad idea. I had some crazy dream collages way south of the psychological border and, I guess, you guys benefit from the weirdness. The first little dream blurt took place at my old house in Fitchburg, MA. We had a little one car garage that wasn't attached to the house and the only way to get inside of it was to open the folding door for the car to enter. Turns out, there is a werewolf living in the garage--it is angry too (also, a quick visual note, the werewolf looks like the one in the movie 'An American Werewolf in London'). I keep hearing it howl and snarl and there's blood running out from under the door. I'm sitting in my dad's old blue geo prism convertible and the werewolf gets out and starts charging and ramming the car. All of a sudden, one of those 'dream farts' happens and I'm standing outside of the car with GBRL and the werewolf hasn't gotten out yet. Another dream fart--GBRL goes to open the garage door despite my yells and the werewolf comes charging out straight at me. Right as the werewolf is going to get me, I jump at least 15 feet off the ground to avoid it and ANOTHER DREAM FART. The dream keeps looping with scenes of GBRL letting the wolf out and me jumping over it a la bullfighting scenario. I wake up. I think to myself, "stupid Gabe."

The next dream snippet of the night takes place sort of on the island in LOST. Now that I think about it, it must have been my wishful thoughts of a LOST themepark. Anyway, I'm participating in kind of an interactive scene; mostly I'm running around trying to get out of the actors' way while they reenact the plane crash scene from the first episode. Except the plane crash isn't on the beach but at some weirdo science building (actually, it is a illustrated backdrop of the Sentinal Production Plant from the old X-Men cartoon...which will make more sense soon). There are explosions going off, everyone is running around crazy, and John Locke is wearing Magneto's (from X-Men) phallic helmet. So the calamity continues until John Lock gets sucked into a random jet engine (like that unfortunate extra from the LOST episode) and I wake up.

Finally (though this dream isn't from the tequila, but a few weeks ago) I'm in the living room of my dad's old house which, in real life, is haunted. For some reason I'm laying in a huge metal frame bed in the middle of the living room. My Aunt Kathy (who has down syndrome) is also in the bed with me. The lighting coming through the windows is dark blue; I suppose it's very early morning because I can see everything in the room. The bed is facing the cellar door and for some reason I'm staring at it while my aunt babbles on about something. The cellar door starts to open and I see a hand extend from the crack just as I hide under the covers and pretend to be asleep. My aunt, however, notices this too but starts to cry and whimper and keeps saying "Corey, Corey the ghost is here. What do we do? The ghost is coming." I try to whisper back, "shut up you idiot and pretend to be asleep," but she doesn't hear me because of her whimpering. So I pretend to be asleep, not scared anymore because I know the ghost will kill her and not me because it thinks I'm asleep and then I wake up. AWESOME