Ew. This dream really creeps me out. I dreamt "Sasquatch the Art Professor" was still alive. That's bad enough, but I dreamt I was still an art student. But it gets worse. As Art Professors do, he arranged for a visiting artist to come to the University. OK, no big deal. But he had me go see this visiting artist, who was very much like this visiting ART CRITIC (a real poofda he was, a right fat old Queen) from Chicago that IRL came to the University back in the early 90s, brought there by "The Chicagoan Art Professor." IRL, The poofda critic absolutely EXCORIATED all the female students' art, but absolutely LOVED the male students art, especially if he sensed they had queenlike tendencies as well. He was a sexist old flamer, and some of the more feminist prone of the students actually filed formal complaints against him and The Chicagoan who brought him to visit. But that was then. Let's get back to the dream.

In the dream, I was in a room, possibly a bedroom. I was to meet the visiting artist there, who as I said above, was a fat old poofda. I think Sasquatch was there too. Poofda then gave me a rolled up $50 bill, rolled up into a tight, sharp cone. I then realized why I was there...I was there as his whore! WTF!? First of all, I'm not a guy! Second of all, WTF? I was so angry I threw the $50 back at him. It fell behind the bed on the floor somewhere. He didn't even bother to pick it up, in a gesture that meant "I have so much money, I don't care if I lose it." He wouldn't take no for an answer either. Finally, I ended up yelling at him, and possibly Sasquatch too, but I don't know if he was still there or what. I got so angry and stern that Poofda finally realized it was a lost cause, and left. I later found the $50 on the floor and decided to keep it for my troubles. The weird part is when I was getting mad, I could see myself as if I was a third person. I was wearing the color turquoise and my arms seemed skinny.

Labels: Dreams