I had one long, crazy dream last night. It was exhausting, and terrifying and strangely filling all at the same time. I can only hope that writing about it now will help me calm down some. Watching cartoons has only made it worse.
All night long I dreamed I was eating chickens in a white Colonel Sanders suit.
Not MONSTER chickens or anything lke that. Just regular 'ole chickens in a chicken coop. All night long. In a white suit. It...was..chilling.
'Cause lemme tell ya, these chickens were everywhere. I was SURROUNDED by 'em. There were chickens of every description, just flappin' and squakin' and peckin' at me in a whirlpool of angry feathers and beaks and talons. All I could do was grab 'em and eat 'em as fast as I could. I stuck some of the smaller ones in my pockets for later.
The whole thing kinda reminded me of a Preacher's Potluck Fried Chicken Festival I attended one time in Muskogee. Now THAT was terrifying. You don't EVER wanna see a bunch of Preachers EAT when their wives aren't around. Especially if it's FREE food. Anyhow...
I'm still not sure what my "chicken dream" meant, or what it was trying to tell me, but it DOES explain why my pillow was in shreds this morning. And why my wife, Gidget, had the faint smell of bar-b-que sauce on her arm.
Thank goodness Gidget's a light sleeper. I'd hate to think of what all she went through while I slumbered and pigged out on those chickens during my midnight munch-a-rama.
BTW: I will say this, I will MISS that pillow.
All night long I dreamed I was eating chickens in a white Colonel Sanders suit.
Not MONSTER chickens or anything lke that. Just regular 'ole chickens in a chicken coop. All night long. In a white suit. It...was..chilling.
'Cause lemme tell ya, these chickens were everywhere. I was SURROUNDED by 'em. There were chickens of every description, just flappin' and squakin' and peckin' at me in a whirlpool of angry feathers and beaks and talons. All I could do was grab 'em and eat 'em as fast as I could. I stuck some of the smaller ones in my pockets for later.
The whole thing kinda reminded me of a Preacher's Potluck Fried Chicken Festival I attended one time in Muskogee. Now THAT was terrifying. You don't EVER wanna see a bunch of Preachers EAT when their wives aren't around. Especially if it's FREE food. Anyhow...
I'm still not sure what my "chicken dream" meant, or what it was trying to tell me, but it DOES explain why my pillow was in shreds this morning. And why my wife, Gidget, had the faint smell of bar-b-que sauce on her arm.
Thank goodness Gidget's a light sleeper. I'd hate to think of what all she went through while I slumbered and pigged out on those chickens during my midnight munch-a-rama.
EDITOR's NOTE:
Gidget cleaned up fine with a light sponging and a Wet-nap.
So while I dont yet know what that dream meant, SOME things are obvious:
1.) Vegetarians and vegans are relieved.
2.) Pillow lovers are in shock.
3.) Gidget smells ike a Wet-nap now.
Oh, to have the gifts of dream intturpretation as Joseph did while in the service of Potifer's house. What would HE say about my "chicken dream"?
"There will be 7 years of famine"
"There will be 7 years of plenty."
"You will work for KFC for 7 years."
"Gidget is about to market some delicious bar-b-que sauce."
"It's time to buy a new pillow."
We may never know.
Let go into the mystery of life....
As together we stand and sing.
BP
BTW: I will say this, I will MISS that pillow.
I think it was a sign...maybe a turning point in your life...letting you know (gently) that your future chicken meals shouldn't come from coops. Your chickens want to be free range (and probably hormone free while we're at it). All those bleached eggs and caged up chickens that eat their own poo...not good BP. Pay more and go with the "cage free" versions and I promise, those nightmares will stop!
ReplyDeleteMuskogee...that's a scary sight too...stay away from there.
Yer great!
Clearly, Dawn, you are an interpreter of dreams. So many truths packed up into one comment. It's amazing.
ReplyDeleteI could've used you to interpret my dream from 3 nights ago. I was stuck inside a jar of pickles with nothing but a pocket knife and a ventriloquist puppet. What's weird is that I felt so at home there, so loved and accepted, so...dilled.
Thanks for reading, and typing.
BP