In last night's dream there was a purple monkey who was busily using a dishwashing machine at sunset in Acacia Park. Most people didn't bat an eye and nearly everyone remarked that this was a familiar sight since that fox was found living in the police station back in 2005. I was left thunderstruck and could only say, "LOL if you got this far man oh man there are some serious spoilers waiting for you. Click here if you dare. Was re: The White Elephant known as a famous shore town in New Jersey and its evening adventures."

If you made it this far, you might as well read a real dream. Of course you won't read it but that's your choice and you're good enough, you're smart enough and doggoneit people like mudkips.

So I was talking with raddidge, telling her about how I've pretty much fucked up my life in Colorado Springs, about how I have broken the last straws with the people I considered to be my friends so I was considering moving to Wyoming to attend college there and continue my life where ever it may lead me. raddidge argued that is stupid because they're my friends and eventually they'll forgive me and she ignored my rejoinder of "in a million years" then took a different tack of how non-resident tuitions are much higher and asked if I really, really, really want to live five years in a place just to get a lower tuition when I am an established and naturalized citizen of Colorado? I asked raddidge to come with me on a road trip.

We drove up to Wyoming to Cheyenne. It was very snowy, the skies were iron gray and I had that indescribable feeling that I was somewhere near Rainy Mountain. Perhaps it had become Snowy Mountain. Upon reflection in waking life I'm certain that I've dreamt of this place before sometime in 2007 but I can't remember the dream and I'm too damned lazy to bother searching through the archives. Our first stop is the Cheyenne welcome center which was covered with security cameras like black barnacles. I didn't feel very welcome and it was more like 1984 when I looked much closer at the situation. My dream told me that this town was heavily populated and subsidized by the miliary which is why no one can fart without some FBI/CIA/DHS agent knowing about it and recording its exact time then filing it as being confidential.

raddidge isn't with me anymore and I run into Jaybird. He's become a bounty hunter who's on the prowl for someone by the name of Robert Thief. Clever name, eh? Armed with a personal hovercraft and a Robert Thief detector that beeps like crazy as it approaches Jaybird's quarry we set off to complete the job. After gliding over the snow and following a set of suspicious footprints we sneak into a gated community. Around the outhouses the gadget is going apeshit! Jaybird tells me to leave and he'll take care of the criminal alone.

I don't know what the heck is going on with Olympics Guy but either his TV was on timer or his clock-radio alarm went off sometime in the middle of the night waking me from a sound sleep. I didn't sleep that well afterwards but my dreams did continue in a different direction. If you're curious about the following image, that image is from Google Maps to show the whereabouts of the latter half of Monday morning's dreaming.

Now I find myself walking south on the median on Wasatch towards Platte. I'm crossing the street between medians near the little laundromat and caddycorner to the Domino's when a yellow cab minivan swings around to do a u-turn. The woman driving, a curvy Latina, doesn't stop in time and hits me. You wouldn't know the relief I felt when I realize the front end of the car isn't that heavy but I know in the way you always know in dreams if the rear tires go over me then I'm fucked with two broken legs.

The minivan stops, seconds before the rear tires could get me and the driver gets out. She's wearing a big blue sweater. I'm flailing around and end up grabbing the collar of her sweater, stretching it down and showing off her boobies. She's freaked out and panicking and completely not listening to my pleas for help to get me out from under the minivan because the edge of the curb is really starting to make my hip feel sore being pressed against it.

Long story short, too late, I'm freed and ask her out. Heck maybe there'll be some apologysex. She gives me her number and address to her place of work and tells me to meet her there after 5 p.m.. Fast foward and I'm outside the same damned welcome center which was in Cheyenne, Wyoming. The lady's sitting behind a desk answering calls and her skin is much darker than I remember it bordering on being like an African. She punches out and as I escort her into my car I keep fondling her big breasts. By now she's unnaturally dark like midnight. When we get back to my place her skin is pale, maaaybe a little tan, and looking like raddidge but not entirely like raddidge.

Now the fucking alarm is going off, I'm all hard, Spot's yowling because she has no kibble and wants fresh water and the day's responsibilities dawn with the first light of December third.