The small man.

This was quite a complicated dream: 

The time period felt like it was the late 1800's. I was traveling across country  on my own but had to join a small community for the winter. There were rumors of a haunting in one of the small cabins on the edge of the town that peaked my curiosity so much that I went to have a look. Several townsfolk warned me not to go near it but I really don't believe in such things. 

As I got closer I could hear moaning and what sounded like something dragging on floorboards. I opened the door to find a small man covered in black hair and filth with both arms missing.  I turned on my lantern but he howled at the sight of it. He was shackled to a stone wall. A heavy iron chain lay around his neck. I set him free then pulled him outside into the moonlight.

"What happened? Who did this to you" I asked.

He took a deep breath, thanked me for freeing him then told me his tale.

One hundred years ago George Washington found him on a trip to Trenton in a deep ravine. With the help of a local doctor he was nursed back to health. Once he returned to Virginia, Washington tried to raise him but found that he was just too wild. Under Benjamin Rush's recommendation Washington felt he had no choice but to send the boy away. President after president carried the secret of the boy's whereabouts until they no longer took the time to investigate the truth. He had lost track of the years that passed since the last presidential visit. He survived on bugs, mice and the dripping roof when it rained. 

I returned him to the nearest major city where I had him cleaned up proper. To my surprise he looked like Peter Dinklage. Magically, his arms grew back in by the day's end. 

As time went on I watched as he rose into the ranks of the wealthy and powerful. As I got to know him I quickly found out that it was all earned by his own efforts. He genuinely cared about the people, doing everything he could to help them with God blessing him in the process. 

To no one's surprise the small man ran for president. A ruthless smear campaign was run by the incumbent president but it failed. The small man  was elected president by a landslide but the former president refused to stand down. We lead a large group to the old armory where we prepared ourselves for war. Barricades were built, canons were loaded and rifles were prepped to fire.

As night fell fires broke out around us, blinding us from seeing into the darkness. Suddenly hundreds of soldiers stormed the armory. We were hopelessly outgunned. They tore through us quickly. I, along with several others, escaped into an old courtyard that was covered in dry sand and a few large sage bushes. I hid behind the smallest bush while the others hid behind the larger ones. Soldiers entered the courtyard searching for escapees. I crawled under the bush only to find that it was the grave of former President James Polk. Polk spoke to me from beneath the sand, "Plant flowers above my grave if you can."

Suddenly it was years later. The small man died in the siege and I now lived across from the burned out remains of the armory. Everyday I visited the courtyard containing Polk's grave but the flowers I planted would never grow. Occasionally I would see the small man's wife walking about the streets. We would quietly nod in respect to her husband. 

Two dreams.

Last night my wife Daisy had a dream that one of my art directors dropped three Australian shepherd puppies off at her Mother's house.

I had a dream that all of my friends wore dress shirts under sweaters with the dress shirt collars sticking out. Since I didn't dress similarly no one would talk to me. Then weird zombie mutants attacked us.

Secret fat nerd bunker.

Last night's wacky dream involved an arcade tournament that came to life and turned grossly violent, an underground secret arcade bunker hosted by Kevin Smith, a one eyed giant floating blob monster, and a room full of frightened know-it-all chubby neck beards.

Cathedrals, temples, and a furnace.

Last night's dream was quite an adventure. I was invited to a celebration of different Christian faiths (Catholic, protestant, etc). The event took place in an enormous blue and white Cathedral on the banks of the Delaware River. Before entering I noticed that next door to the church was a nondescript Eastern reilgious and muslim temple. Outside, men, woman and children celebrated as large puppets, dressed all in black, paraded in front of the entrance. The women wore gorgeous jeweled veils and danced in the streets while clapping their tambourines. I stood and watched for a few minutes.

Inside the Cathedral were tight wood pews which were designed in a way that only allowed kneeling or sitting. The pastor thanked everyone for coming and expressed his gratitude for the contributions of 10,000 artists that donated their time to work on a painting that we were not allowed to see. I was incensed that they would do such a thing and not share it with the public. The pastor then introduced the benefactors of the painting, the "Duncan family." I remember thinking that that they looked like they were from Eastern Europe. The last man introduced was a short man who was accompanied by my friend Connie (who had bright red hair and bright blue eyes for some reason). At his introduction I overheard some men complaining about him but couldn't understand what they were saying. After the service I followed the men down an alley way to find that they were waiting to assassinate the short man. Before I could get to them several shots were fired but the short man and Connie drove safely on.

This is when the dream got really bizarre. I was suddenly the short man everyone was looking for. They chased me into an old industrial park where I successfully hid under a pile of junk in an old junkyard. Several small drones searched for me but could not pinpoint my location. Once they left I jumped down into a small room lined with cinderblock walls. A furnace lay in the middle. A young boy climbed out of the furnace covered in ash. He turned to me and said, "Here. You belong in here." Frightened, I broke open the door only to find I was in a large disheveled warehouse. I hid behind some old cardboard boxes because I heard the warehouse doors start to open. Several men entered. I could hear them speaking but, again, could not understand what they were saying. I stood up to see them but could only see their silhouettes. A gunshot filled my ear. The dream ended. I woke up covered in sweat.

Poland.

I've never been to Poland but I had a very vivid dream about it. I was with my wife on a business trip. When we arrived in Poland I was completely awestruck but these gigantic beautifully ornate cathedrals that were built into the mountain sides. At every corner we turned one greeted us bathed in light from the setting sun. I couldn't keep my eyes off of them.

Fighting in Switzerland.

Wow. Bonkers dream: I was back in Basel, Switzerland. I rented a car and drove south to the alps to meet up with Marianna and Fabio. Along the way I had to fight with a hamburger shaped hotel manager, several old bartenders, a woman shooting an exercise video, and the Swiss police. Suddenly a robot voice convinced me to find a small church to hunker down for the night. Upon arrival I discovered that my friend (a pastor) was inside to perform some weird food ceremony for Connie. I was asked to walk Connie down the aisle but it all turned into another nutso fiasco when I ate the pink ice cream bananas. Oprah was furious. 
Good grief.

Top Hat.

Friday night's dream involved being angry, plumbing, buses, a hospital, child birth, a well choreographed dance number for SNL starring my friend Randi, and fighting a cop in an elevator while dressed in a gray tuxedo complete with a fancy top hat.