So, Tell Me About Your Mother.....
As everyone knows, Sunday (May 6th) will be the anniversary of Sigmund Freud's birthday.
To celebrate, Random_Speak is offering a free service to professionally psychoanalyze the dreams of interested parties. Because, let's face it: anyone who reads this drivel really needs some serious help.
Just leave a comment(on this post) describing your dream, and our soothing experts will perform a thorough analysis in order to help you understand what is wrong with you.
To celebrate, Random_Speak is offering a free service to professionally psychoanalyze the dreams of interested parties. Because, let's face it: anyone who reads this drivel really needs some serious help.
Just leave a comment(on this post) describing your dream, and our soothing experts will perform a thorough analysis in order to help you understand what is wrong with you.
7 Comments:
"Hello, Maxwell!"
Let's see how many get that!
No dreams...at least ones I can remember lately. Since retiring I have stopped having the recurring "hurry up you're late" or "your plate's too full" type dreams.
And, of course, I stopped having the wet ones a few years back...now that's a shame.
It's wonderful to be a boomer these days!
Last night I dreamed that a horrible little baby was running through a restaurant dipping itself in the sour cream and salsa on everyone's tables. It wasn't until after I exclaimed, "What a rude little baby!" that I realized I was sitting across from its parents.
I believe I already told you about a recent dream in which I was visited by the Angel of Death in the form of a puppy. The dream closed with the puppy, perhaps a spaniel, whispering to me in Latin before I saw my own tombstone and woke up. Frightening!
This one is easy: I was unceremoniously dumped by my husband for a 22-year-old nondescript blonde hostess from Bella Brava. Oh yeah she was d-u-m as a doorknob too, natch.
In my dream I have gone to New York, and I find myself at Radio City Music Hall about to audition for The Rockettes. I am completely untrained in the art of the dance, and have no qualifications for the job except that I am tall enough. Just as I realize that I am the only auditioner who is not a girl, someone shouts "Places!" and I am pushed out onto a stage with a line of real dancers. I squint into the stage lights, and I see the director, who looks like Joseph Stalin, as he glances up from a clipboard and begins to count "...five, six, seven, eight..."
Then I wake up. I've been having this dream for months, mostly on Tuesdays.
wow. everyone is obviously suffering from severe hysteria
Most nights I dream about sexual intercourse which I enjoy fully until suddenly the woman changes into my mother, an obese figure lying on top of me until I wake up near suffocation.
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