Question: dreams:  Do they mean anything?

Last night I dreamed about some of my co workers.

And the dreams were crazy, sexual and horrific.

Dream number 1:

There I was, dancing on the pole, looking amazing, when the pole collapsed.

My wig fell off, revealing I was nothing more than a bald eagle.

Next:  The guys in Customer Service were out drinking.

I showed up.

They were appalled.

Elderly chicken butts need to buzz off. They can ruin the ambience.

I refused to retreat.

I wore my popeye outfit and sang:  “I am what I am. I am popeye the sailor man.”

The stoning began.

I was stoned, you were stoned, let’s all get stoned.

Bob Dylan showed up.

Come on. who cares if a 75 year old Stoner shows up?

Neil Young entered the scene.

“Old man take at look at yourself…..”

Dream number 2 kicked in.

Lionel Richie and Stevie Wonder were singing,

Who is Penny lover? And why did you call to say you love me?

And in my inebriated state of mind, I sauntered home.

Can someone please take me out back and shoot me?

Can it wait til Nov 30?

If not, don’t expect me back.

And in my last dream:

For 30 days and 30 nights, the Cx B. stayed at  her desk, gathering cob webs in a non responsive mode.

Yeah, she croaked,

And on the 31st day. Pat and the Beav were hungry and asked the Chx B what she was doing for lunch….

And when they realized the old goat was no longer alive, they ordered gyros in her honor.

And the world continued,

2 months later, Pat was overheard saying:

“Hey Beav. Remember that idiot who used to sit by us? ”

The Beaver shook her head and told Pat to shut the hell up.

Let us all reflect on the effect that old C Butt Geezer had on all of us.

Who cares what you thought of her?

When the day is done

And the year is gone,

Can someone please have as much fun as she had?










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