Fart Dreams. What Else Is There?

The voices in my head that reverberate incessantly are retaliating in the most resourceful way they can by imposing the oddest dreams imaginable during my REM or whatever it’s called, sleep.  Last night I dreamt about snot and farts.  No really.  The epitome of class and the higher echelons of elegance.  Snot and farts.  My dreams are awesome. 

At one point in the dream, I had a huge booger that was in my nose and the only way to extract it was with tweezers.  When I did, it was a green ball with spikes. Not that I usually pick my nose…or use tweezers for that purpose.  BUT A SNOT BALL WITH SPIKES?!  Who dreams up that shit?  Apparently, I do.  Twelve year old boys everywhere want me as their mom. 

Later in my dream I am participating in a ritual dance of sorts where I am prancing and flailing around as if to dance in procession when suddenly “SQQQQUUUUUEEEEETTTTTT” goes my ass in rhythm to the music.  I stop.  The AUDIENCE, yes, AUDIENCE, withdraws into silent disgust in my abhorrent display of gassiness.  With little choice but to look elsewhere in bewilderment as to the source of the fart, I blame it on a young faceless girl behind me.  “Oh, no that was all you princess” somebody said…I turn to a giggling audience and walk silently offstage, the blond girl following haplessly behind me only to hear, once again a “SSSQQQQUUUUEEEETTTT”.  That was her and I look appalled and not at all impressed that she had the absolute gall to copy me.  I am mortified that she just farted in front of MY AUDIENCE.  Wait…didn’t I just do that?  Yeah, but it’s okay for me.  I was dancing.  Totally justified.  And maybe a little fucked. up.

I’m not entirely sure why these dreams are haunting me in a most peculiar way.  There were other nuances to the dream that I can’t describe just for the mere fact they were so bizarre that I probably would not be able to do them justice.  I mean, when one dreams of spiked snot balls…it’s all a little weird isn’t it?

I’ve had weird dreams that involve people that have been dead for years.  The creepiest one was the other night.  I dreamt I was at my brother’s funeral again. He died in 1986 in a motorcycle accident.  I dreamt that I was at his funeral, but it wasn’t HIS  funeral.  it was different with different people and my boss was there.  There was nowhere for family to sit as our seats were taken and I kept saying “This isn’t my brother’s funeral. That was a long time ago.  This isn’t it” and then the dream ended.  I found out last week, one of the DH lady’s cousin died tragically in a motorcycle accident the day after I had that dream.   Kinda creepy, huh?  As I learned more about him, he closely mirrored my brother….

So, I’m hoping my dream tonight isn’t a tragic one.  I’ll also take one without the spikey snot balls and farts, thank you very much. Maybe one involving Johnny Depp and chocolate???  Hmmm….


My sign...notice the decorative heart and flowers...I think Hubby should rethink his position on this.  It's awesome

What I said after all my dreaming…

7 thoughts on “Fart Dreams. What Else Is There?

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