On twitter, one of the people I follow asked for everyone’s strangest dream ever.  I’ve had this one at least 3 or 4 times.  No, I’ve never sought counselling about this but perhaps I should.  Anyway, here goes:

I’m a youngish kid.  Say 10 for argument’s sake.  I’m walking through the house into the kitchen.  My mom is doing something in the kitchen.  Dad’s occupied elsewhere.  Suddenly I hear this noise outside.  Curious I open the back door and see a fat Mexican man bouncing back and forth. Like my friend, there to the right. mariachi statue Imagine him with a yellow suit and matching hat. So this guy is bouncing back and forth and singing/chanting something just below perceptibility.

Naturally, I’m really freaked out.  In the tradition of dreams and cartoons since time began, I jump straight up and latch on to a blade of the ceiling fan.  Of course, it can’t hold me so I crash to the kitchen table below causing it to collapse.  Not to be foiled in my attempt to flee, I run to the front door and fling it open.  What I see outside is a ring of the afforementioned fat Mexican guys holding hands, bouncing back and forth.  Still chanting.  Still can’t understand a word.  I seek refuge in the one remaining place in the house:  the attic.  I run to my sister’s bedroom, tear open the closet door, and push up the hatch to the attic.  I poke my head up through hole and peer inside the attic.  I’m greeted by thousands of these fat Mexican men (now miniaturized so they can all fit).  Yep.  Still bouncing.  Still chanting.  Still unintelligble.  It’s at this point that I mercifully wake up.

I’ve had this dream on several occasions.  I’m not sure why this one repeats.  Why couldn’t my subconcious latch on to something a bit more … attractive.  Anyway.  That’s the strangest dream I’ve ever had.  So, that’s me.  How about you?

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