I often have vivid dreams. On rare occasions they’re even lucid, where I can control my actions. Since the technology doesn’t currently exist to record them, I’ve been writing down what I can remember from my adventures in this other reality. Here’s one such escapade from December 2016 (keeping in mind the editing in dreams is subpar and scenes don’t exactly flow smoothly):

Poultry Thief

I was on the run from the law.

I was with my girlfriend: a blonde. Let’s say her name was Margot. Margot Robbie.

“I don’t know what I was thinking trying to get away with swiping that chicken from the supermarket,” I said to my supermodel/actress girlfriend. Margot was pissed. She threatened to leave me to go stay at the YMCA. A perfectly reasonable reaction to being made an accomplice in poultry theft.

We were walking along a crowded street, trying not to be conspicuous. We obviously failed because the next thing I knew we were being arrested by two police officers. Somehow I got the upper hand as they tried to cuff me. I had them both face down on the ground, their guns now in my possession. I did not hesitate to execute them with a bullet to the back of the head. Margot and I jumped in their squad car and left.

My cousin came to visit, presumably at my hideout. We were discussing Christmas presents. She asked me my opinion on some dangerously short swim trunks she had gotten for her boyfriend.

Reads like a taut thriller doesn’t it?

I like to try to analyse my dreams and this one seems pretty straightforward:

Why did I steal the chicken? Well, I am currently unemployed but I still gotta eat.

Why such ruthlessness when dealing with the coppers? Black lives matter.

And finally, what about the swim shorts? This was actually just a manifestation of a real life situation except the conversation was with my Mum and the shorts were for my brother-in-law. Yea…