A crazy ass dream I had (NSFW)
Background about me:
Hip-hop based music production is something I once pursued as a career
Ok, so I’m meeting with Three Six Mafia about some music. It feels like some super indie meeting because it’s at a pretty normal house. Also, it isn’t really Three 6 Mafia. Gangsta Boo is there but she looks absolutely nothing at all like Gangsta Boo. It’s actually like a super hot chick there instead. I don’t know who though. In hindsight I think it may have been a stripper I met a while back. Juicy J is there but again, he looks absolutely nothing like Juicy J. It’s not Three Six Mafia at all but in the dream, that’s what I was sure of. Also, I grew up with Three 6 so it’s not like I don’t know what they look like, that’s just how the dream went.
Anyways, they are talking about some new talent they are going to bring through and how we (me and Gangsta Boo) really have to cater to them. It feels like we’re getting pushed over. One of the dudes makes tracks but, in a way that of course would only make sense in a dream, they aren’t music tracks. He’s an aspiring race car course designer and he makes tracks out of construction paper. And I don’t mean like some paper mache sculptures or architectural schematics drawn on paper, they are like some 2nd grade drawings where he cuts out the empty space. It’s pretty ghetto, but Juicy J is talking about it like this guy makes amazing beats and kinda suggesting that I’m gonna have to like bow down and step aside to this guy.
Juicy J eventually goes downstairs and we’re supposed to follow him. I walk over to Gangster Boo like, “this is some bullshit. I’d respect it more if dude was making tracks using those plastic electric trigger gun things. Those are actually kinda cool and I could at least see what he was going for.” She agrees and we head downstairs.
So while we’re going downstairs I notice that the TV is on but the important part is that she grabs me through my pants and is like, “let’s have some fun,” and walks me into the bathroom and starts blowing me. I didn’t realizing it at the time, but the layout of this how is exactly like the house I grew up in. The bathroom is like 10 ft from the Juicy J has already walked through and is waiting for us at. So anyways, we’re in the bathroom and the door is open and she’s giving me head and I’m like, ‘this is amazing but shit he could come through any second.” Eventually the stops being a factor and I gently push her head down some. She comes up crying and backs up some and I’m like, “dammit, I should not have done that.” But it’s like I was trying to choke her or anything it was just a head tap. So I’m like, “my bad I won’t do it again.”
This is the really weird part
She’s like, “No. You see such a tragic loss of life and you don’t feel anything?” I’m confused but I look at the TV and it turns out that it’s at the end of a World War 2 documentary and they’re going through the final death toll numbers and I guess this got to her emotionally. I’m thinking, ‘you’ve got to be shitting me,” and I’m trying to salvage the situation like, “don’t feel sorry for them, these brave men died protecting the world. We should salute and admire them,” in hopes that she’ll be like happy about it at least no longer in tears over it. It doesn’t work. But what really pissed me off was that then like these cartoons of the american guy working (I can’t find it now but it’s in the same style as Vault Boy from Fallout) as well as some British one and it was like “God bless the yanks” and I remember being infuriated that some propaganda nonsense stopped me from getting some head and that anger was enough to wake me up.