I Had A Dream—Analyze It For Me…

You may want to sit down for this...

I recently had a disturbing dream—so disturbing in fact, that I feel it needs to be shared with the rest of the group…For therapeutic purposes of course…

The Dream Begins—>> I’m in a hospital room full of short, chubby doctors, one Canadian obstetrician and several tall, big-breasted nurses (who keep checking me out)—there’s a lady I’ve never seen before who’s lying on the hospital bed, she’s in labor…

I suddenly realize that this must be my wife—not my real wife, as I’m unmarried—but my dreamland-wife…Since I’m such a great dreamland-husband, I rush to her side and begin to feed her ice-chips and Little Debbie’s double-decker oatmeal pies while the medical staff diligently works on the delivery…

After several agonizing hours of labor and a whole case of oatmeal pies later, the obstetrician finally announces, “Yee-Haaaaw!  I can see this kid’s frackin’ head!”

As all of the nurses begin eagerly high-fiving one another while simultaneously grabbing my near perfect ass, our merrymaking is interrupted by the obstetrician—who’s now shrieking loudly in horror!

I turn to look and there he stands, holding only the baby’s head in his hands—nothing more…Oddly enough, the head is crying obnoxiously just as a normal baby’s noggin would be doing—and I’m thinking that maybe this is a good sign…

Before any of us have time to react, a foot pops out of my wife—then a bicep—a thigh—a lower back—both hands and so on and so forth until we’re all staring at this big pile of baby body parts—all of which seem to be perfectly healthy, just unattached to one another…

“Maybe some assembly instructions will come out of there too,” I chirp, taking a big swig of my ice-cold Fresca.

Naturally, I’m right…Seconds later, a sizable 125-page hard-cover manual detailing the instructions of the child-assembly appears—along with a small bag of screws and a set of Allen wrenches…

However, the instructions are in Spanish—nobody in the hospital speaks Spanish…This is a problem…

“Listen up you nincompoop,” the doc says to me—“Our lunch break is in about 45-minutes, none of us speak Spanish and it could take me days to get a translator over here—do you mind if we just do the best we can on this kid—and then go grab a bite?”

“Have you tried that new Thai place around the corner?” I ask.

*The medical staff proceeds to hastily assemble our child in less than 15-minutes, which leads to the following conversation with the obstetrician…

Doc—OK Mr. Strouteau, we fixed your kid—sorta.

Me—How’d it go?

Doc—Not well—this kid is flat-out fucked.

Me—Spare me the fancy medical jargon, doc—give it to me straight.

Doc—Mr. Strouteau—your kid is a damn whack-job—what don’t you understand?

Me—Hmmm—can I sue you?

Doc—No.  It’s just a dream, you dumb-ass.

Me—What’s the bottom-line here?

Doc—There will be some long-term repercussions of today’s delivery and the assembly debacle which ensued afterward.

Me—Repercussions?  Can you be more pacific?

Doc—You mean—specific?

Me–What did I say?

Doc—You said—pacific.

Me—No I didn’t.

Doc—Yes you did.

(We proceed to argue over this point for several minutes)

Me—OK Doogie—you win…I said pacific—Now what’s going to happen with this kid?

Doc—For starters, he’ll most likely never get laid.

Me—No shit, what else?

Doc—He’ll possess the ability to jump extremely fucking high—He’ll also have a strong tendency to sleep standing up—In addition to this, he’ll be able to run backwards at 35-mph on his hands, but will most likely get his chin stuck in his ass if he tries to eat corn on the cob…

This is precisely the moment in which I woke up from this horrid dream…

I showered, ironically ate a bowl of Corn-Pops and then headed off to work—trying to make sense of it all…


PS—I’m willing to pay dearly for answers…

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55 responses to “I Had A Dream—Analyze It For Me…

  1. If you really had that dream, you are now the hero of my unconscious. I’ve shared my dreams with people who proceed to tell me they are completely abnormal and unusual. Ah…well…. Rock on with your fucked up dreams of infant assembly with monolingual gluttonous docs due to your dreamland wifes fetal hacking uterus.

    • haha—more than a few people told me this one was unusual…The Friggin Loon and the Bearman were nice enough to point out that I’m fucked—and I should start my life over…

      Don’t mince words—is what I told them 🙂

      Thanks Amy!

  2. I think it is essentially your subconscious trying to encourage you to let fly with the F word, because in a dream where a piecemeal child is born with little more than a Spanish set of instructions, and the best obscenity you can come up with is ‘frackin’ (which, as you know, I love), I think it is fair to say you have a fucking swearing problem ….

  3. alright im over this dream do another one do another one!

  4. Aside from the obvious and quit normal slight nervousness about raising a child … I think any dream analyses should focus on the Freudian slip.

    You want the chubby doctor to be more ‘Pacific’. Comparing an authority figure like a member of the medical staff with the largest ocean in the world is a very serious matter. The doctor is already overweight, and your fantasy is for him to cover about one-third of the earth’s surface.

    That is a feeder fetish in the highest degree.

    The feeder fetish isn’t sexual in nature, it is about revolting against those in power. As portrayed in the philosophical canvass by Monty Python, in the scene where the also impossibly obese mr. Creosote is stimulated to devour enormous amounts of food, by a common waiter, until he explodes.

    Do you often buy food for your manager at work ?

  5. Ron, if you want to have a child with me, just say so. You don’t have to go through this elaborate charade. Obviously this dream is about the time we shared Swedish meatballs at Ikea.

  6. hey off topic here ron:
    i like those banner ads. that’s a good idea! i think i’m gonna put my bearman ad back up and see about an addanac city banner ad as well. it’s like friendship bracelets for bloggers.

    • I have a soft spot in my heart for the Bearman—he was the first person to ad our link to their blog…

      …it’s hard to believe that his server can possibly handle all the traffic that he get’s from people clicking our Bearman banner 🙂

      PS—Why’d you take his banner down anyway? He pays me 1,500-bucks a month to keep it on our sidebar…hehehe

  7. I would have to interpret this as meaning that you will soon be attracted to a woman with one or more missing body parts. Initially, you’ll be revolted by the idea, but her winning smile and attitude will eventually melt your heart. Her parents will be Canadian, and she’ll want you to go visit them. This is where the dream’s warning comes in. You must refuse to visit her parents the first three times. If you do not, then you will suffer immeasurably, and the relationship will fail, leaving you an emotion wreck for decades. Instead, buy her a goldfish and a make up a poem about her. It doesn’t have to be a good poem, she won’t care. Then take her out to dinner and visit a hardware store to look at wheelbarrows. On the fourth time she asks you to visit her parents, you can go, but only if the goldfish is still alive. Remember to bring a bottle of wine and a white thong.

    Good luck.

    • Writer Dood,

      Thank you.

      You may be the one person that actually got the gist of this one—-In a sense that: A fucked up dream deserves an equally fucked up and humorous dream-analysis!

      Does the wine have to be red or white? I’m leaning towards the white in case I spill it on my thong…which is currently at the dry cleaners now as a matter of fact…



      PS—It’s impossible for me to look at wheelbarrows with a woman and not think about sex…

  8. So how much do we get?????

    • Before or after sex dinner, drinks and a movie?

    • I need to talk to my accountant first—stay tuned…

      In the meantime, help yourself to some corn on the cob and meat-pies—My treat!


      PS—How much money do you want? Let’s negotiate…

      • i dont want your money honey i want your lovee…… im going to even break out into song for you now…

      • well.. well ..now susie cutie, aren’t you just a triflin tart? it didn’t take you long to sink your claws into ron…you must be feeling better these days. oh sure, it’s all fun and games until you end up dismembered in his basement!! it’s completely obvious to me that ron is in some serious need a shrink. (and now i’m wondering about writerdood too) where the hell’s dave when you need him? 😦

      • Susi needs to quit whoring that video all over the net.

  9. PS if i am wrong..then Jammer is DEFINATELY right…your fireman was in need of some serious attention

  10. well Ron I am the dream interpretation queen…

    but more than likely it sounds like its not a dream that has much meaning for you ..it sounds like you probably have been watching far too much Greys Anatomy, The George Lopez show, canadian hockey and porn…plus throw in a conversation with the parents (probably mum/mom or sisters or aunts who might have mentioned to you that you are getting older, balder and should prob get married before your beer gut gets any bigger and no woman wants you unless you pay for their flight from some 3rd world country and give them citizenship – then they;ll leave you exactly 1 week after they get their green card with all your money and claim 70% of your assets plus alimony and child support – byebye corrs)… and it all combined like a bad Arby’s “fresh” salad and it resulted in some dreamland diarrhea which was your dream..

    I believe that in your dream you NEEDED to talk to me to get this interpretation because ….low and behold I speak fluent spanish therefore ONLY I could give you the right interpretation..


    Regalos, dinero y joyas estaran muy bien recibidas señor Ron… hehe

    • Regalos, dinero y joyas estaran muy bien recibidas señor Ron

      I think that means: Hey, Ron, big boy, come on over to my house and we can watch reruns of “Big Vally” and eat Vegemite samiches.

    • …ding ding ding ding! We have a winner! I think…

      I like this analysis you spicy vixen…You’re slightly off the mark in a few regards but it’s still a nice effort on your behalf…

      With the exception of hockey and porn—you’re wrong about what I watch on TV…

      I have no sisters—I AM a sister…I know I know, Ron isn’t a common name for a young black woman but what can I do—I didn’t pick the name…

      Beer Gut = Ovaltine Gut…and thus far I’m not balding, quite the contrary…My hair extends all the way down to my ass and my chest-hair formation is looking more & more like the Batman logo with each passing day (I’m dead serious about that one)…

      Grassyass Chica!


  11. My interpretation= Don’t have any kids.

  12. There are no Canadian obstetricians. That must be Gordon Lightfoot or somebody. Anyway, see if the two of you can write a hit song so you can afford to take those baby bits to a proper baby mechanic. You’re just going to screw it up trying to assemble him yourself.

  13. Screw trying to figure it out. Just fall backwards until you get the kick. I’ll send in Juno to help.

  14. Hmmm … any spare parts? I can’t seem to assemble a sandwich without finding some unidentifiable bit laying around afterwords. 🙂

  15. Is it anything like this dream?

    Van Hagar 4 evah, motherfuckers.

  16. I’ve got nothing for ya on this one…. officially fukt..

  17. Bottom line here? Ron, the dream was about getting a little head. No psychobabble needed; you just wanted a good knobber. All the rest was foreplay.

    • haha—I’m guessing that any man’s dream-analysis can be boiled down to this very same conclusion…but that’s a given, since it’s impossible to receive too many blow-jobs…

      Blow-Job Reception Trick: I’ve been telling women that my dong is low in carbs…trust me, it works…

  18. The baby is you. The chubby drs were actually other babies when you were born. The rest is what Loon said…you are fucked. STart over.

  19. I’ve known you a long time Ron. Maybe its time to go see a priest. That sounded a tad on the “exorcist-like” side. Also, a vasectomy may not be a bad idea either. A little preemptive maneuver…No answers though. Sorry man. Youz wack!

  20. Maybe it means “never go to a canadian obstetrician or your kid will be a lizard baby”? Or that you are falling apart and need help getting yourself back together. The last option is that you’ve watched Dexter way too many times.

    I always have dreams where I’m one of the last surviving members of the human race in a world full of zombies. No idea what it means.

    • …is that lizard baby jab a quote from a movie? Do tell Lando—you heathen-bastard…


      PS—Your dream means that you should stop watching I Am Legend once a week…Ya fruit-cake…

      • The lizard baby quote is my own. More importantly, how do you know that woman is your wife? You could of stumbled across a birthing and decided to be a helpful ice chipper feeder standing by-er. What really makes me wonder is what’s up with the ice chips? Is that something done in the labor room or desert? I think you’ve been watching “9 Months” way too much. Then again, Hugh Grant movies seem to be your humor.

        Oh snap, son!!!

  21. You my friend had an IKEA baby. And like all of us who have ever had something from IKEA, once assembled it’s pretty much fucked and looking nothing like it was in the store. I would take the kid back and get a refund.
    So my interpretation of the dream is ….. your life? You are pretty much doing it all wrong. Dismantle and start again as I doubt you’ll get a friggin refund now!!!!!
    Sweet Dreams!

    • lmao loony that is fantastic an IKEA baby…hahahha

    • haha—I love your thoughts on IKEA…I guess this means my dreamland wife was a smoking hot Swedish woman—I can live with that…

      How does one start their life over when they’re 31 though? My mom would be pretty pissed if I tried to crawl back in there in attempt to get born again…

      I suppose from here on out I could just do the exact opposite of what I would normally do—like Costanza…I’m starting today…my first move is to put on a pair of LOOSE fitting trousers…


      PS—Have you ever gotten YOUR chin stuck in your ass while eating a meat-pie?


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