Mama June commands a death squad

I’m not sure what the hell I ate that caused this dream, but it was clearly trying to beat some kind of personal record for weirdness.

Let’s set the stage: a big dark apartment complex, much like you would see in the UK. It was one of those big 20+ story buildings that you frequently see in movies as being run down and ruled by gangs. Think of the apartment complex in the movie Candyman and you’ll get an idea of what I mean.

For some reason, I went there. I headed to an apartment and went inside to talk to someone. Who was it? It was Mama June from Honey Boo-Boo. I’ve never watched that show in my life but like everyone else, I know who she is, if from nothing else but her various memes.

She was sitting on a beat-up couch in a shitty looking living room, apparently void of electricity. There were tons of kids around, varying in ages. As it turned out, she kidnapped all of these children and they now live with her at Shithole Manor.

She’s also a huge drug dealer and crime boss, though the state of the environment doesn’t really scream Tony Soprano.

As I was talking to her, these two big guys walked into the apartment and passed by me, not paying attention to anyone in the room. They looked like some of the rebel forces Arnold was fighting in Predator, with two key differences: they were wearing big dark raincoats and carrying lit flamethrowers.

These guys were Columbian hitmen.

I don’t know why they were there or what the hell my brain was doing, but I was now standing in a room that looked like a slum threw up on it, surrounded by children, a TV personality, and flame-throwing assassins from South America.

When I finally left, I got to my car quickly. At this point, they were apparently planning to kill me. I got in my car and noticed my dashcam was missing. This pissed me off. That’s when I noticed the back window of my SUV was rolled down. I hit the button on my car door and rolled the window back up, signaling another fact to me: this isn’t my car.

I realized I wasn’t even in the correct car. This woke me up to an immediate thought of “What the hell was that?!”

Seriously brain, can’t I just get more Jill Hennessy or Amy Acker dreams?

About the Author

Dave

I make music and yell about shit.

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