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A Typical Dream For Me

Posted 06-07-2018 at 08:49 AM by Nostroke
Updated 06-27-2018 at 05:33 AM by Nostroke

Along the same lines as my mafia dreams where i screw up every order Gotti gives me, lose or spill ketchup on his suit and wind up going for a long drive in the country with Joe Pesci sitting behind me, Donald Trump last night insisted on lending me his Stradivarius Violin. Things proceeded southward from there. The Stradivarius was in a plain cardboard box so as not to draw unwanted attention.The first thing that goes wrong is when i take it out of the box, some guy rips it up for recycling. Thanks pal.

After an aficionado plays it, i let a very good friend have a look at it. Next thing i know she is knitting and the Instrument is next to her on a small table with a lamp taking up most of it. There are 4 year olds chasing each other all around her and the violin is only spared because i yell and she picks it up as 2 of the 4 y.o.s crash into the table. By this time I am in need of 3 Valiums plus surgery to have my sweat glands removed.

I go over there and admonish the knitter (Holly) for not being more careful and she is insulted and says “Thanks for the confidence in me, Geez!”

She then puts the violin under a bed. which just happens to be in the middle of this public space- for safe keeping. Five minutes later i anxiously peek beneath the bed and see dust and all this miscellaneous junk but no violin. I tell Holly to get me that damn violin.

Holly gets down flat on the floor and slides completely underneath the bed-totally out of sight. A few minutes later she emerges with a big wooden crate that would never fit under a bed to begin with, but hey, this is a dream and there are no rules.

Im also happy the violin is now in this nice protective crate-Just one problem though, when i check in the crate 2-3 minutes later, it isn't in there at all. By now, I'm as nervous as a straight male masseuse working in the Spa at John Travolta's Hotel.

I ask Holly where the F is the violin and she just casually says she gave it to Bill Robinson, someone i don’t know. I do track him down however and start grilling him on the whereabouts of the instrument. He is leaning against a tree this whole time- never saying a word, just keeps looking at me with a big smirk on his face.

I get furious and step back about 20 yds and make a full speed run and launch myself feet first at him, aiming for his chest. He casually moves aside at the last moment and i crash into the tree, crumple to the ground but immediately jump up and begin throwing haymakers at him-never landing one. In the middle of me not landing a punch, mercifully I wake up.

PS- This dream was not 'last night'-It was originally posted in another blog in 2017
A 'rating would be appreciated-top right dropdown-It's anonymous.
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