Wednesday, March 31, 2010
New Dream-What Happens In Vegas
OK, for those of you familiar with my dream posts, you are aware that they normally have a penchant for randomness, bizarre, silly, and disturbing. Well, I think this brief dream story covers all these bases adequately:
I was gambling at a casino in Vegas dressed and made up as a clown. There came a point where I ran out of gambling money and started to explore the casino. I went through a service entrance the janitors used to find a small hallway with what appeared to be hotel doors. Behind each of them sounds of massive fucking echoed rather loudly. A casino employee saw me in the hallway and asked me to return to the casino proper.
It was after all of that that my cell phone rang, it was my father in law informing me he would be by shortly to pick me up at the pre-arranged location two blocks from the casino. After I left the casino to walk to the location, I had two separate incidences where people tried to rob me. The first was a drunk guy that pickpocketed me, but apologized and said he was only kidding. The second was a trio of thugs that tried to intimidate me into giving them my Diet 7Up. Needless to say, it is difficult to intimidate a guy in a clown costume, and they left.
As I watched the street waiting for my ride, I noticed a two large groups of people waiting for a bus. One group was average citizens, the other was a bunch of retards. Sure enough, I spotted my father-in-law's van shortly. In fact, it would have been difficult to miss. You see, it was covered in moss. Imagine a van made out of sod instead of steel, and you will get the picture.
So, there was only one last hurdle before I could go home safely and end the dream: I needed to get the clown makeup off. Unfortunately, the ONLY thing that could remove this particular type of clown makeup was vinegar. However, as luck would have it, the security guards in the parking ramp we pulled into had a small break room with a fridge that contained PICKLES! I was able to wash my face off with pickle juice. The end.