21 February 2006

The most horrible nightmare ever

So in my dream, I came home to find some random guy, who was apparently supposed to be my brother (I don't have a brother), on the driveway, working on a gorgeous sunny yellow brand new Chevrolet Corvette.

Now, I should probably explain that I'm not the materialistic sort, or the type of person who knows or cares very much about cars, but Corvettes have been my dream car for as long as I've been driving. I first admired them for the acceleration they pulled, which far outstripped the '95 Corsica I was driving at the time. And one day, I was attending a lacrosse game at another high school, and in their parking lot, I saw the most gorgeous car I had ever seen in my life. It was a Corvette Stingray, and I spent several minutes just standing there, drinking in the beauty of it. I think that was the first time I ever saw beauty in a vehicle of any kind.

So, back to my dream. When I saw my "brother" standing by the Corvette, I gave him an appealing look, and he was kind enough to hand me the keys. (At this point, I dropped all questioning as to who this guy was. I mean, a guy hands me the keys to a Corvette, I'm sure not going to argue with anything he says.) So I pulled out of my driveway, passing my dad on the way and giving him a cheery wave, and headed for a state highway that's fairly near my house. Once on the road, I floored it and went 0 to 50 (the speed limit on that stretch of the road) in about half a second. It was so awesome. The convertible top was down, and yet the wind wasn't messing with my hair a bit.

But then some little kids ran out across the road, and I braked and came to an easy stop, because my brakes kicked ass like that. I yelled at the kids to get off the damn road and went on driving. But now the kids were pursuing me, hollering at me and wanting me to buy them lunch or something. (I should probably interject that I don't like children at all. I'm very uncomfortable around them.) I accelerated wildly. So wildly, in fact, that I took off, and started flying. But the little rugrats continued to pursue, yelling about being hungry, somehow keeping up with my f'n flying Corvette.

Thus, a dream that should have been the best ever turned into a horrible, horrible nightmare.

Damn snot-nosed kids.

10 Comments:

Blogger Russ said...

Did that kid keep yelling about needing his "Two Dollars" for the newspaper delivery? I hate that dream.

10:09 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ah. Well, this one's easy.

The Corvette represents intangible desires of your heart, pursuits which are in and of themselves not clear, possibly idealized. Yellow was the clue.

The "brother" is a figure from the past, someone you wanted to be close to but did not for some reason. It's not clear in the dream.

The "father" represents your father.

The highway, well, that was easy. Mid terms. Or a Whataburger with cheese. I could go either way on this one.

The children represent blood drinking demons who want to slash your throat and tear out your still-beating heart, and devour it while you breath your last.

And the flying part is it's time to file your income tax return. Electronically if I read the clues right.

Dave in Texas

10:38 AM  
Blogger Mrs. Peel said...

Russ - no, but that would have been funny.

Dave, lol. I particularly like the Whataburger with cheese.

Now that you bring it up, it is almost lunchtime...

10:45 AM  
Blogger Monty said...

I don't dislike children, but I treat them as all other human beings I meet: some good, some neutral, some clearly the spawn of Satan. Every time some new mom pushes her trout-eyed, pointy-headed, drooling bundle of germs at me and coos, "Isn't he cute!", I want to tell her that the only thing uglier I've seen all day was a week-old roadkill in high summer.

If I've learned anything from films like "The Exorcist" and "Village of the Damned", it's that kids are possessed by the devil. Plus, they often smell bad and have imperfect toilet skills. Plus they're loud, boogery, dandruffy, and usually have some kind of pyuck on their hands that not even an industrial-strength solvent will take off.

But yeah, some of them are okay. That Tibetan kid who was supposed to be the next incarnation of the Dalai Lama seemed to be okay.

1:49 PM  
Anonymous geoff said...

Sometimes a Corvette is just a Corvette.

2:08 PM  
Anonymous geoff said...

The children represent blood drinking demons who want to slash your throat and tear out your still-beating heart, and devour it while you breath your last.

Ah [nods wisely], liberals.

2:09 PM  
Blogger Mrs. Peel said...

It's the lack of hygiene that bothers me the most. Other peeves include the fact that many parents don't bother teaching proper discipline and the fact that little kids have an imperfect grasp of English.

5:06 PM  
Anonymous Michael said...

Actually, one overlooked benefit of being a parent is that you acquire a cast iron stomach. Once you've dealt with a teething child (where every orifice the kid has is draining 24/7), pretty much nothing can disgust you.

6:18 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Bill Cosby used to say there are 7 places on a child's body for something to come out of, and something comes out of every one of them.

He also mentioned he didn't care for the little ones with runny noses trying to kiss him with their "glazed donut faces".

d in t

6:41 PM  
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2:40 PM  

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