People With Three-Word Names Need To Beware!
Current mood: angsty
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural
And my typing sucks, because I had to get a new keyboard today, and it takes some getting used to. Pfft.
In the dream, I was in my Gram and Pap's back yard in Chicago, when in walks Mark David Chapman, who had escaped from prison, still had no remorse about killing John Lennon, and when I threatened to turn him in, came after my throat. Except it wasn't Mark David Chapman, it was Anthony Michael Hall, just as he looked in "Sixteen Candles." In self-defense, and since he deserves an ass-whopping for his murderous past, I began hitting Mark-Anthony-Whoever's skull against the cement patio of my grandparents' back yard, untill he was dead.
Then my mom showed up, and I was complaining to her that those irritating 17-year cicadas were starting to eat at Mark-Anthony-Whoever's bloodied head, making the most awful chirping noises. I told my mom, "Where's the fucking medical examiner? The cicadas are eating his head!!!!"
The medical examiner, no shit, who showed up was Keisha Knight-Pulliam, from "The Cosby Show." (This all only creeped me out after I woke up--that everyone pertinent in this dream went by THREE NAMES!) Naturally, the death was ruled in self-defense, and that's pretty much all I remember.
That said, I fear for the well-being of folks like Daniel Day Lewis, Sandra Day O'Connor and Mary-Kate Olsen. I'd have included Anna Nicole Smith, but she's already six feet under. I think.