I had a dream. It involved two birds, a chipmunk, some Vaseline and a bottle of Goldschlager. Unfortunately for dreams, they don't come true. Okay, maybe that one came true, but none of yours ever will. If you think I'm going to help you, you're an idiot. I'm just going to tell you what everyone already knows: you're fucked in the head, you wanna bang your mom, and you have a deep-seeded fear of commitment.
"I have this recurring dream that my teeth keep falling out. I was told that it was because of stress, but I'm such an easy-going and relaxed person. I don't understand."
Let me guess - you also have lots of energy all the time, you're never hungry, and you've always got something to say. No, you're not stressed out, you just need to stop doing meth. Trust me, I've been there and it only leads to giving rim jobs in the dumpster behind Seven Eleven while waiting for your next hit. My suggestion? Make the switch to Adderall: all the benefits of Crystal Meth, minus the physical decay, and you'll probably do a better job on your math homework.
"I had a dream I was reading Word Up! Magazine, Heavy D and Salt-N-Pepa were in a limousine."
First off, stop writing songs about dying, that shit is ominous. Next, get a Kevlar vest quick, and cancel your next trip to California, you'll thank me later. Obviously you've been hanging out with the wrong crowd, Bad Boy doesn't need to be for life. I suggest a change of scene.
"I had a dream where I had the feeling that something was tapping on my shoulder. It wouldn't go away no matter what I did."
Oh, wait I know this one. That was my dick. It was on your shoulder.
"I was out hiking in the mountains with my best friend Julie and we came up to a plateau. Julie went first and easily climbed to the top. I tried and tried but I kept slipping. I don't remember how it ended I just remember that it was too big, and I couldn't get on it."
That's what she said. No seriously though, this probably means that you fail at just about everything in life while Julie always has things come to her easily. I bet it started out in the third grade spelling bee where you got stuck with 'leisure' (i before e dipshit) while she won it all with 'chicken'. Things only got worse when you got fat and ugly and Julie started getting more dick than Lynn Cheney. My advice is don't worry about it. I can promise you that no matter who you are, life turns to shit past the age of twenty five. You, Julie, me, Lynn, we're all in the same boat up shit creek without a paddle.
