Zee Beloved Mullet

What follows is the summary of the greatest dream I ever had - I remember the shock and awe upon waking to find out that it was all fake. I don't know why I love this one so much since it really is a nightmare, but oh well. (This post is copied from a site I used to post at - I think it reads well enough that I didn't have to rewrite the whole thing.)

10/29/2002 1:52 PM 8 out of 686

Okie. Now it's my turn to post a dream and hope for positive and helpful interpretations. Anyone offering unconstructive comments (and I am the sole judge of that) will be sentenced to a day of vomitting cockroaches in the hot hot sun. So there. And now for the dream.

Your lil Chickie went to sleep and found herself dreaming of being in love. Not just any love, but real true everlasting tra la la la, dancing through fields of flowers, skipping in the rain, K-Tel record commercials kinda love. It was vomitous to say the least. But I shouldn't editorialize since I haven't even gotten to the story bit yet.

So this dude is a bit older than me, by say at least 20 years. And I haven't dated anyone that much older than me since I was in high school so that's a little bit surprising. But I digress. This man had style and class I never thought I could attract. Let me describe his appearance (as if you could stop me since you don't even know I'm typing this right now- ha ha). Well he dressed pretty well, wearing navy blue pants, navy blue shoes, and a navy blue shirt unbuttoned seductively to his stomach. He had a nice lawn of chest hair highlighted by a fine gold chain around his neck. And the hair. My word, the hair. Well let's just say that no one could carry a receding hairline and poofy mullet like this dude. It wasn't permed and it wasn't all that long, but it was carefully tended for maximum volume.

And while you may think that my devotion to this man is amusing, I caution you not to laugh too hard. It gets worse.

Maybe you're familiar with beer mirrors? When I was talking to My Man about his hair, he informed me that he was famous for his mullet. A-flutter with lust, I went with him to some pizza parlor that had his image on one of those mirrors. It was a profile, and the entire atrocity of the hair was there on the glass. And I was informed that they were hot sellers all across the nation. He was a celebrity.

But this is not the worst of my dream, either. Follow.

In the dream we took a roadtrip back east somewhere. With his wife and children. I was his mistress. I was playing the 'nanny' role or something along those lines while the wife was around. And I was constantly looking for ways to be alone with him!

I am lost. So utterly lost. What the hell is wrong with me that I would not only be a mullet tramp, but a famous mullet chaser and worse yet, a married mullet ho? What is my problem and how do I erase this torturous dream from my memory bank? What's next? I start watching Doc just to see Billy Ray Cyrus every week?

Line them up, Duck.

Kidnapped!

By my dentist! Who was kidnapping a variety of patients and finding their doubles to re-enter their lives. I managed to escape with the aid of a co-kidnappee but I can't quite remember how that worked out. There were lots of drugs involved to keep the people down and it was very Stepfordish. He served a bowl of thousand island dressing for our sustenance. Bleh!

Now my dentist is one of the most gentle, kind persons I have ever met. I cannot imagine him coming up with any sort of nefarious scheme (aside from excessive use of those blasted drills of course), let alone that one.

It was quite disturbing while I was sleeping but upon waking it became humorous.

Good on the weirdness and humor scale. Give this dream 3 zeds.

the first installment

got a c-note with ben franklin wearing dreads. it was dated 1910 and i was impressed. it went into the blue jar. it wasn't there this morning, go figure.