The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain

Ha Ha, I DON'T have the plague! *raspberries*

My journal remains its proper colors. I point and giggle at all of you.

And with a link like that, how could you NOT click?
I was getting a guitar for Michael and Tish had come along. She was confusing the employees and other customers because she told them I was her girlfriend. She was wearing a suit and looked all business-y, I was dressed as usual (like a slob) and resembled a bum. They all seemed puzzled as to why she was with me.
Got the guitar and took it to Michael's house. His room looked different, though. It was bigger, and devoid of all furnishings save for his bed, which was in the center of the room. He was sitting on the bed. Around the room were three or four girls. I couldn't really discern their faces or anything particularly interesting about them individually as they all looked alike. They all had long hair and wore flowing, peasant-type shirts and long skirts. They were just sitting there, occasionally looking towards Michael, but for all he noticed they might as well have been furniture. I was wearing the same things they were, but Michael looked up when I came in. I felt really bad, like I was going to pass out, so I carefully put the guitar on the bed at his feet and fell to the ground and blacked out (I was unconscious for the rest of the dream). I twisted so that I landed on my back. Tish came skipping in (she seemed very happy in this dream) and saw me on the floor. She lay down on me and seemed quite comfy.
"Hey," she said to Michael "Is this new? What kind of furniture is it?"
"It's a toilet."
"Oh." She looked at me. "Can I use it?"
"Do I have to pay money?"
One of the girls spoke up. "You should never have to pay to pee."
Tish agreed, but couldn't undo her skirt, and so she decided to wait 'til later and just used me as a chair.
Michael had been playing with a tarantula the entire time, and now he let it crawl off his hands and across the bed. When I had fallen, one knee was bent and leaning against the bed, and part of my skirt was draped onto the mattress. The tarantula (whose name, by the way, was Lunch) crawled across the skirt and onto my knee, where he paused.
Michael was narrating his movements. "Now, Lunch is pausing because he's deciding whether he really wants his day to be that taxing." The spider apparently decided that he did NOT want to be on the receiving end of my freakout when I awoke to see him on me, and crawled back to Michael. Then Tish called me and the phone woke me up.

Freud would have fun, I'm sure. o.O And 'Lunch'? What the hell is my brain doing?

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