You’ve been reading about my sleep issues since arriving in Parts Unknown.  I’ve been having some weird dreams too.  Most of them were either short or I’ve forgotten some details so these dreams probably won’t be as vivid and detailed as you’re used to from me.

Friday morning I had two weird dreams back to back.  The first dream I was in school.  I get the impression that I was new and joined this particular class late.  I’m not even sure what class it was but if I had to go out on a limb I’d say it was either a literature class or some type of sociology class.  Anyway the classes were separated into groups and had their desks in four or five different circles.  Each group was assigned one book and I knew the spokesperson for the smallest group.  Every other group had a minimum of seven people, some had eight, one had six.  The smallest group had five people, including the dude I knew.  There book was kind of techie and something I had read before so when the professor told me to join a group I joined that group.  The guy I knew was black.  Everyone else in the group was white, two older women, a young woman, and a young guy.  Immediately they acted like they had a problem with me.  Mind you at this point I hadn’t even introduced myself or said one word to anyone.  I grab a desk and pull it towards the group.  These motherfuckers didn’t even want to let me in the circle.  Okay.

The guy I knew was at the chalkboard jotting something done and the white people got into a huddle and started whispering amongst themselves like I wasn’t even there.  After they were done I guess the white guy was elected spokesman for the group.  He told me that their group had five people in it and that I should join one of the other groups.  I told him that I could count and most people in college who aren’t athletes typically can.  Again they said I should join another group.  I told them that I was already familiar with the book their group was reading, that it was one of my favorites, and that I’ve never gotten anything less than an A- in a college level English class or less than an A in general liberal arts classes like sociology.  In short I told them what I brought to the table.  They went back into the huddle again and started whispering.  After a couple of minutes the white dude brought up the number five again and said that they were happy with their current arrangement and that I should join another group.

At this point I was livid!  Part of me was thinking fuck them!  I’m probably smarter than you anyway so you should all line up under the desks and suck my dick in appreciation for even considering working with my intellectual inferiors.  How dare you reject me!  The other part of me was like, if these motherfuckers want me to leave so badly I’m going to stay.  I’m going to dominate them with my superiority and when they come around I’m going to blow them off and humiliate them.  I told them I wasn’t going anywhere.  This group had the fewest members so adding one more person to it wouldn’t be a problem.  They all started whispering or muttering to each other and themselves.  The dude was like a broken record telling me to join another group when I finally lost it.  I threw their text books, notebooks, and other items off of their desks and got loud.  Normally, I’m not a loud person.  People are often surprised at how soft spoken I am.  I don’t like loud people.  I honestly don’t even like to raise my voice as the very act of raising my voice pisses me off.  I scanned all them but mainly kept the white dude in my line of sight.  I’m not going anywhere!  Most of these groups probably have too many people as it is and you have the fewest.  I don’t know what the fuck your problem is but it’s your problem because this is the group I’m joining!  Deal with it!

All eyes were on me and I stood over them defiantly.  The white guy looked like he was about to lose it but he didn’t say anything, he just glared at me with his big country looking ass.  An evil grin slowly crept across my face.  I sat back down and I looked Big Country right in the eye.  I told him, “You look like you want to do something but I know your bitch ass isn’t going to get up and do anything or you already would’ve.  Oh, I’d beat the dogshit out of you but at least you wouldn’t be sitting there staring at me like you want to do something making my dick hard.  Keep staring at me bitch.  You’re making my pimp hand twitch!”  The professor rushed by and worked something out so I didn’t have to join their group or anyone else’s and I could still get my A.  When I woke up my jaw was clenched, my temples were throbbing, and my breathing was weird.

I slowed my breathing down and tried to get myself together.  My head was still feeling awful but I managed to get back to sleep.  Soon after I had the second dream of the day.  I was somewhere near my old neighborhood.  I still haven’t figured out why so many of my dreams and nightmares lately seem to involve my old neighborhood.  Anyway, we were in some cramped house near my old neighborhood.  I walk in the door and my jaw just dropped.  It’s my worst nightmare.  I’m in a house full of kids.  I look at my mom and ask her what’s going on?  My mom says something about needing my help with these kids.  I look at her like have you not known me for 34+ years?   I don’t like a lot of noise in general.  Kids pretty much are the harbinger of noise.  Worse yet, I don’t particularly care for kids.  At best I eventually learn to tolerate them and then maybe sometime after that I learn to like them.  Children truly annoy me, even when they’re being “good” or aren’t even trying to.  Children just being and acting like children annoy me.  Every now and then people ask me if their kid is bothering me or being annoying.  99.99% of the time I lie and say no.  Truthfully, by the time you’ve asked if your kid is bothering me or being annoying he or she has been annoying me for some time now.

I look at the house full of kids and turn around to leave.  Several hands grab me and people beg me to stay.  I’m fuming because I’ve been tricked into coming.  My mom knew that if she told me I’d have to spend the day with children that I would’ve told her no thanks and tell me how it works out for you.  I take a survey of the house and lose count of how many kids are there.  I really don’t want to be here.  I head for the door and people rush to block me.  Mom says she’s cooking me something and it will be ready in a few.  I find a sparssly cluttered corner of the living room and sit in a chair trying to tune out the chaos around me.  I think I finally achieve a state of meditation when my mom brings in my food.  Just as I take my first bite I hear a scream.  I don’t know what the hell is going on so I hesitantly put the tray on the armchair of a nearby coach and go see what the problem is.  I tell a little girl to knock off the screaming before I hurt her and send her little loud ass to bed with no dinner. Having only turned my back for less than a minute, my heart sinks when I hear the tray hit the floor.  I turn around to see a little boy is scampering onto the couch with part of my meal.  The rest of it is decorating the hardwood floor and keeping it warm.  I glare at the clumsy, greedy little bastard and he knows he’s in trouble.  The room is cluttered and there’s a huge table in between us.  He thinks I’m too big to maneuver around it and snatch his little ass up.  He’s wrong.

I grab the back of the shirt as he tries to run away and not so gently toss his little ass onto the big brown leather couch.  He starts whimpering and doing that little fake crying children tend to do that royally irks me.  He says he’s sorry.  I tell him that he’s not but he’s about to be.  He senses that I’m not playing and the waterworks begin.  He’s wailing like a banshee and I have yet to touch him.  He tries to run but I still have a handful of his shirt’s collar and slam him against the couch.  He’s trying to get away but I have him pinned against the back of the couch.  I look at my right hand and it’s twitching.  This little bastard has my pimp hand twitching.  Oh it’s on now!  He’s snotting up, begging, and apologizing and even offers me some half eaten remnants of my food as a peace gesture.  Unfortunately, for him I’m not feeling very peaceful.  He’s still trying to escape from his ass whooping when I tell him he has 10 seconds to man the fuck up.  I can see the veins in my pimp hand throbbing.  My hand wants to get at that ass like one of the racist German Sheppard K-9 dogs on Cops when a black guy is cornered.  I pull down his pants.  This kid must have been at least 8 and his big ass has on some fucking Pull-ups.  I let my pimp hand go to work and teach his ass the mystical art of hoebedience.  I count aloud as I whoop him.  I’m glad this young fucker has on pull-ups because I think he pissed himself.  Oh well.  So sad, too bad.

While I’m tapping this little boy’s ass Sesame Street style I notice something out the corner of my eye.  Some little girl jumps up on the couch and starts hitting me.  Please understand this is one of my pet peeves.  I absolutely despise children hitting on me.  That shit isn’t cute and parents who think it is are invited to sit in a bathtub of full of salt water and rusty razor blades.  I stop beating little Billy and grab Shaniqua and slam her little ass onto the couch.  This little bitch is still trying to hit me.  I bury my forearm into her throat and ask her if she has lost her fucking mind.  She stops hitting me and her eyes begin to roll up into the back of her head.  I raise my arm off her throat and she begins gasping for air.  I tell her to take her little monkey ass to bed.  As she leaves I grab her arm and pull her ear close enough to me so she’s the only one who can hear what I say.  I tell her that I will fucking kill her and everyone she cares about if she ever raises her hand in my direction or tell anyone what just happened.  Her eyes grow big as saucers and she runs for her room without looking back when I let her go.

I tell Billy to get his bitch ass on and clean up the food that was spilled.  I take the tray into the kitchen.  My mom doesn’t even ask what happened and I tell her this is bullshit, I’m going home with the dog.  I have no idea why my mom wants me to stay in this child infested hellhole.  The small kitchen is crowded with food, pots and pans, and people.  My mom gives me some kind of slinky flower.  A young Chevy Chase is in the kitchen for some reason and he breaks my flower.  Instead of apologizing and offering to replace it he grins and laughs.  I call him and asshole and warn him to avoid me in the future if he didn’t want me to stick my foot up his ass and walk it out.  Apparently he got the point because he stopped laughing, said his goodbyes and got the hell out.  No sweat off my back.  My mom sent me back in with the kids by promising to make me another meal even better than the first.  Again I woke up with my jaws clenched, head pounding, and fast shallow breathing.  Before, anyone asks I have no idea what is up with that.