Something in the Stars

So, for the past few nights, I’ve been having dreams involving A-List celebrities. While I’m sure we’ve all had them in some form or other, several nights in a row? All different stars from totally different genres?

It’s a bit wacky.

A couple nights ago, Anthony Hopkins was hunting me with the intent to kill. He almost achieved his goal. I ran from him for days (in the dream) but he finally caught up with me as I was trying to shake him under a freeway overpass. He lunged at me with a machete type blade and cut my arm up good.

Okay, I told myself, this dude is really going to take my life. I ran home, Anthony hot on my heels. I got upstairs, grabbed my Kimber .45, and the slide was broken——I couldn’t rack it to chamber a round. So I grabbed my 9mm and headed outside. 

“Be careful brandishing a weapon out there,” my father says.

“I’m not going to brandish it, I’m going to put a bullet in this fucker’s head,” I replied, and headed down the stairs.

He’d fallen asleep on a bench adjacent a sidewalk. Even in the dream, it occurred to me that shooting him like that was not only a pussy move but probably illegal and I’d fry for it since I wasn’t currently in imminent danger. I didn’t care. I put the muzzle an inch from his head and pulled.

Misfire.

When I looked down, the freaking barrel was actually bent to the left. Of course, he’d woken up and looked back at me, a devious grimace on his face. So I pistol whipped him, hard, and ran back inside the house. It was then that I woke in real life, heart racing and legs thrashing. Not a fun dream.

Then, just last night, I went on a sexy date with Drew Barrymore that ended...extremely well, and I spent the morning hours with none other than M.C. Hammer. I don’t remember what we were doing now, but it wasn’t anything to do with music. He was just a regular blow, only famous as all get out. 

Mmm, yes.

Huh?

Now, I have been watching Stephen King bits at night before bed: Interviews, question-and-answer sessions at colleges, and etcetera. I wonder if this has anything to do with it? I also wonder why I haven’t dreamed specifically of King.

Weird stuff.

Anyhow, I realize that dreams are about as interesting as listening to the clock tick for the non-dream-haver, so I’ll stop here. I will close by saying that I’m not new to busting up dreams. I spent a good solid year reading dream key type books and learning how to decode the suckers.

But famous folks every night?  A bit odd.