Last night's dream came on the back of a sad episode of CSI: Miami, two episodes of Without A Trace, a glass of Banrock Station red, and dozing in a sleeping bag. Context will help, trust me.
So my dream was about a visit I paid to a frat party [obviously the American influence in my life is starting to pervade my subsconscious]. But this frat party was held at an Aussie university, and two guys from my work were hosting it. All the frat boys wore black pants, black shoes, white shirts, black skinny ties (perhaps this was me recalling an ad for Men In Black I'd seen earlier that night?).
This dream was not a dreamy remake of a bad tits-and-arse teen movie either. We played games in the dream, but they had more in common with a 19th century etiquette gala and were quite above-board. One of the party games we had to play was where each guest had to put a heavy-ish chain and loveheart padlock around their necks and, while holding a key in their hand, had to go around the room and find the person whose key opened your loveheart.
And the real kicker was that the fraternity was trying to build self-esteem, because the key you were holding actually opened your own padlock. Well you don't need to be a dream analyst to work out the message in THAT.
Corniest frat party that I never went to, that's for sure.
No comments:
Post a Comment