Dreams

Dreams are our portal into ourselves . Some gypsy got on my TV and started screaming this . Fortunately , I had the remote closeby , enabling me to mute her with ease . But her words got to me . What are my dreams ?

If you're like me (you aren't) , then you spend most of your day dreaming . I find it quite easy to slip into the land of my dreams during mundane activities such as chopping firewood , driving , and funny third thing .

I dream of a world full of unicorns , a shining green  world where these majestic white stallions run free and rub their horns together for sexual pleasure . I also dream of myself , bestriding a giant black unicorn with a knife for a horn , and a mane made of fire . I would ride my dethcorn all over the prairie , hunting all the pansy unicorns with a special crossbow that shoots chainsaws with grenades inside them .

I dream of a world where there is no war , where there is no hunger or disease . And then I imagine our world invading theirs , killing all their innocent civilians , burning their crops , and sneezing into their faces .

Finally , I dream of you , asleep and unsuspecting , as I sneak into your bedroom with my pants off . You don't know it , but I've been running in place in my basement next door under a bunch of heat lamps while wearing a wool sweat suit . I dream of rubbing my drippy , sweaty , vinegary balls all over your face , and then laughing as you wake up screaming and call the cops . I don't even mention how many crabs crawled off my bush and up your nose .