Bad Dreams

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I had a dream last night that I was photographing a nude model. She was pretty enough, although I don't remember much about her face or her name or anything. At some point things got weird, as dreams tend to do. She suggested that I get naked, too, and she would photograph me. I thought this an odd idea, but for some reason I agreed. So I was standing there naked, not looking nearly as attractive as she did, and feeling stupid. Rather than put my clothes back on I simply began to act the way I felt. I did penis puppets and the helicopter and stuck my stomach out as far as possible, making a fool of myself in order to ellicit laughs from her. As long as she kept laughing I felt oddly less stupid.

Psychologists say that to dream of yourself naked and embarrassed is normal. To dream of yourself naked and unashamed indicates that you are proud of your body. But I have never heard anyone explain what it means to dream of yourself naked and only seeing your nudity a good chance to clown around and try to make hot girls laugh.

Even in my own dreams this is all my body is good for, to get a laugh. Rather than dreaming of myself in perfect physical condition with women throwing themselves at my feet, I dream of myself as performing like a human cartoon character.

I don't know how long the dream went on. It gets a bit hazy after that. I just remember that I was naked throughout and I didn't care, but I wasn't happy about it. I only did it because the girl wanted me to, and for some strange reason that was good enough reason to get me to strip.

Later in the dream I found myself in church. And I had no shirt on. Apparently I had pants on, thank God, because the seats in those pews are mighty cold on a bare ass and will give you the shits. I didn't feel comfortable walking around without my shirt, so I sat in the very back. Not surprisingly, all my friends were sitting back there, too, as they probably would be in real life.

Ah, good times!

According to the dream, some sex-obsessed feminist had written new verses for the Bible and the government apparently had ordered that these new verses be included and accepted by all churches.

That wouldn't surprise me at all, actually.

So anyway, in the dream, we were looking at the book of Romans. The woman had added some long, babbling crap about how a woman is to judge her lover's acceptability by his sperm. The verses said that a woman is to examine a prospective lover's sperm very closely and only choose a man with big sperm, the bigger the better. Apparently his semen was supposed to taste a certain way, too. And the fewer mutated sperm in his semen, the better mate he'd be.

Apparently she's supposed to take his sperm to a lab and have it examined or something. No imperfection was to be tolerated.

The new feminized verses went on and on about good fucking and sucking and licking and all the things the man had to do for her before he'd be considered acceptable. Not surprisingly there was nothing in the new verses about anything expected of the woman in order to be acceptable. Her perfection was assumed.

My friends were showing the new verses to me in disbelief as the preacher way up front was reading through them out loud, complaining about the audacity of forcing this on us all as he went. When he came to the part about big sperm, and my friends in the row in front of me were showing it to me, I began cracking jokes. My friends were laughing, but trying to keep quiet about it, and all the while I was annoyed by the fact that I had no shirt on. I wasn't shocked that our feminist government was forcing fake Bible verses on us, or that they all treated men like human sperm factories. This was no surprise to me at all. I was just mostly irritated about not having my shirt, although it didn't slow down my jokes any.

When I woke up the next morning, I looked at myself in the mirror, and I resolved to punch my personal trainer in the face the next time I see him.

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