General KC Freeman
(A Southern Gentleman goes to war…)

Right after I wrote "Meet Singles In Your Area" I had an awesome dream that I'm sure would give Sigmund Freud a field day. I just think it's hilarious. Here goes:

It's the U.S. Civil War—or the War of Northern Aggression depending on who you talk to. I'm carrying an AK-47 for some reason. I shoot a bunch of dudes, and I see Willie Nelson in my line of fire, but I opt not to shoot him—could he be a spy on my side? I have no idea whose side I'm on and in my dream I don't really care. But when I return to home base—which is my Old Man's tricked-out Chevy Camaro—he pats me on the back and says, "Good job, Son." Then we roast hot dogs. The end.

By far one of my most favorite dreams—even compared to sexy time dreams.

Let it be known, I've only lived in one state that even existed during the Civil War (New York). Despite my accent—which some people think is Southern—I've only been to Atlanta once and Orlando a few times. My dad had a tricked-out Camaro about forty years ago, but now drives a Volkswagon Beetle. And this photo was taken at one of those old timey picture huts at an amusement park.

How about you? What can you interpret from this wacky dream? Have you had any wacky ass dreams lately? Let's hear them!