solid goldstein: Just woke from a very weird dream with you in it. You had a large rounded seventies RV in classic tan and brown you were driving through the northern part of the country.
I was riding along and looked out the window and asked where we were. I wondered if we were in Michigan but it looked a bit too western.
The weird part is that the RV was equipped with automatic driving. I looked over at a certain point and realized you were napping and the RV was driving itself. The windows were "blacked out" with snap on tan colored naugahyde covers. (Everything in this monstrosity was High Seventies and nothing was modernized but the auto driving) so it seemed like we were careening down the road blind in a box.
The seats were wide and flat and another shade of tan. Yours was down flat like a bed. In a panicked voice I asked you who was driving. You said it was the automatic driving and suggested I come over and see from the drivers seat. I went over, unsnapped the cover and saw we were going 65 down a rural road in the foothills.
Sure enough, the RV seemed to be driving itself as it whizzed by the cars coming the opposite direction. I asked how it sensed the center line and you didn't have an answer, and said so in a slightly annoyed and unconcerned voice, which seemed unlikely considering the fact that we were CAREENING down the highway in an RV that was the automotive equivalent of Sanford and Son.
I couldn't get used to the weirdness of it driving itself. It just seemed like a crime against nature. Eventually we got to an urban area, and it was indeed Michigan in spite of the fact just minutes ago we were in a landscape more suited to Montana.
We slowed for a light and I heard some rap music and the song was repeating the phrase "Pussa, Pussa, Pussa". I opened the side door and there was a guy sitting on the median who grabbed my arm and yelled "Pussa, Pussa, Pussa!" and cackled hysterically. I fought him off and we drove on.
You said "I feel like playing some roulette" and we found our way to a a scuzzy casino and went into the coffee shop, which like the RV did not seem to be updated since the seventies.
Somehow, you had acquired a guy in his early twenties who seemed to be related to a friend of yours. He really didn't have his shit together and you were somehow supposed to impart your wisdom to him.
He didn't seem to have any money at all and we looked at the menu and he said he couldn't even afford a coke. You looked at the menu and said "well, it is three figures after all" and I glanced down and saw that indeed a coke was $1.30, though I thought the phrasing was ...unusual.
I started to describe my crazy poker night I played the Wednesday before including the game "Bob Dole" which was Texas hold em where the SECOND best hand wins. Ironically this was the only part of the dream based in reality as I did indeed play Bob Dole on Wednesday. You started to figure out the strategy on how you might play Bob Dole and.......cut.
Hey, I just dream them.
b1-66er: pussa.
