I Don’t Care How Much Brain Damage I Might Have… God Talks To Me

In a dream like a wonder wheel in the middle of the night…

In the waking world, it was today. It was daylight outside. But my eyes were closed and I was dreaming madly like they did on Gilligans Island…

At first I was trying to put a blue tarp over my black shiny stupid Mustang. (I wanna beat it but it’s a dead horse.) THAT was FUN. I don’t know why. Black the horse, blue the sky forever. I’m a man.

Enter the evil casino on the Ponderosa…

My wife is Lebanese and English and Iroquois, too. Her dreams must be a strange brew because I get falafel for breakfast after my haircut. She does it in her sleep. I awake to a tomahawk above my nose. She DOES IT in her sleep. In her SLEEP, I say. I have an anti-alarm clock with an IV of Michael Jackson’s MILK so I DO NOT wake up!

Wholly shiitake mushrooms make my mega meal! The tomahawk disappears. If I speak of it… Shhh!- it is madness…

Rosetta De Jimminincompoowah is her name in my dream. She is the Madame of the casino. The cook looks like my brother. He is NOT!! He is an OFFSHOOT! A “never was”- a spermato-zoo FREAK of a WHAT IF? If I had a 4th brother between GUS, BART and Winthorpe. Which one do you think is RICH??!? You elitist bigot! Gus is a canteen maker and he’s good as gold. Fooled you and so what if I left out Fiona?

In the casino…

The cook has a twisty Mario mustache… Dark skull inlets and eyes spinning like juicy blueberries gone bad. “Hee her hee” he says. Sounds generic? He makes looking evil FUN because THIS damn dream is UNDAMN. Undamn isn’t heaven. It just isn’t shiddy or shoddy.

So my brothers were there. Yay. And the kids. Woo hoo. (it’s not cool to get too excited in my family… dad was a Jim Bob job and he turned the house into a calliope. (GOOGLE: “Giesbrecht + pipe organ). Dad was not in the dream.

Anyway, my favorite part besides just smelling the all-you-can-chew BBQ, was leaving. I left out the front. Swingy doors? Okay. I’ll change my dream for you. Not!

Hey, what if O’BAMA said,

“I’ll CHANGE my DREAM for YOU?”

He already screwed up the Tv… In EVERYONE’s house. “Let’s do digital”. Agh! Don’t call our president “Black”. That is not PeeCee. He is BROWN. A melanin miracle!! You can’t have him! Take Wesley Snipes. I am not white. I am PEACH. A juicy red-centered peach. Racist? Thank you! Go FUN yourself.

So I was in my dream, moving toward the highway of stone that went to the Heavens. Lots of detail, but I’m out of ink. I was wearing combat boots crossing a river. Probably an over stream of a dream of a soldier in Fallujah. We are over there for target practice. Someone discovered the next best game to Call of Duty is enlist. Nevermind the decades of guilt, PTSD, remorse, killing of innocents… We all die so it’s … Yes. It is. Just don’t think that the cross in the crosshairs justifies it. My “immolate the world and start over prayer” is not being answered.

I was immolated in a dream sequence and then woke and did it for real. The god pixels said it was South and 30 degrees up in my dream. And there it is. I am bathed in the light of the one star that has no name.

Why doesn’t the sun have a name?

doom.

Doom.

name it “Doom”.

ah whatever… Same to YOU

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