Don’t do that, you idiot

Just as those with whooping cough tend to whoop it up a lot, and those with erectile dysfunction cannot whoop it up one little bit, those who suffer from the angst of anxiety are often very anxious. But while the first two groups generally stop whooping and party pooping during sleep, only the anxious—for reasons that have baffled scientists for decades—have anxiety dreams.

Good news. I have written a New York Times best seller called “The Five Anxiety Dreams of The Very Tightly Wrapped: Decoding subtle messages your mind sends because just coming right out and saying ‘Don’t do that, you idiot,’ might hurt your feelings.”

For a free copy, send me $28.95 in cash or gold doubloons. In the meantime, here’s a brief summary of those five dreams.(Order now and we’ll send you absolutely free, Dr. Phil’s “Uh oh, I’m In A Rubber Room.”)

The gun dream:

You go to a gun store. You want a gun for hanging with friends and shooting the breeze. The clerk says “Breezes aren’t in season yet. Have you considered just shooting the bull?”

You say “We shot the bull last week. In fact I got a bull’s eye.”

“Aha,” says the clerk. “That explains the bull with the eye patch who came in yesterday. Bought a Gatling gun. Big box of ammo. But I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“What about me? Should I worry about it?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Nuns-in-the-boys-room dream:

You’re back in seventh grade and the nun comes charging into the Boys Room waving a sin-be-gone stick (three sawed-off yardsticks taped together). She whomps anyone she suspects of emptying their bladders while thinking less than charitable thoughts about the Medici popes of the sixteenth century. She suspects everybody.

The hotel dream:

You check into a posh hotel. You open the door to your room and Mel Gibson comes out of the bathroom. He bends over and moons you. You call the front desk. You say “I distinctly asked for a room without Mel Gibson.” The clerk apologizes and reassigns you to a Frank Sinatra room. You say “Isn’t he dead?” The clerk says “Yes, but the summer wind came blowing in from across the sea.” As you leave, Mel Gibson seems upset. “Was it something I said?”

The final exam dream:

You’re in line to pick up your cap and gown five days before graduation. You realize in a panic that you’ve forgotten to go to your Epistemology class the entire semester. The final exam is today. If you hurry you can make it and still graduate.

You turn to the guy behind you and say “Quick, what’s epistemology again?” But the guy turns out to be a one-eyed bull and he’s carrying an e-pistol loaded with hollow point mologies.

The dating-your-mother dream:

Your friend sets you up with a blind date. You sense something is wrong when you drive to your date’s house and it’s your house. You hesitate at the front door. Ring the bell or just go inside? You don’t want the date to get off on the wrong foot.

Your father opens the door and pulls you aside and tells you which of your arms he will break off if you try any funny stuff with your mother. When you ask him to define funny stuff he pokes you in the eye, squeezes your nose, yanks your ear and bops you on the head.

Then your Mom comes down the stairs wearing a lovely prom dress that is modern but modest. She’s also carrying a laundry basket full of dirty clothes. She says “Gimme your underpants.”

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2015, all rights reserved.

This entry was posted in Absurd and/or zany, News You Can Use (Sort of) and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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