I forced my friend, Karen, to go with me to the gym and try to get her listed on our family membership pass by telling them that she was my retarded sister who lived with us.
All the way over in the car she kept getting really upset that I was making her wear a protective helmet out in public. It reminded me of the “Bring out your dead” scene in Monty Python’s “Holy Grail” where the geezer kept saying, “I don’t want to get on the cart!”. Seriously, all it was lacking was some fifth-covered dude named Dennis beating a cat against a carpet in the background and dorks beating coconuts together while arguing about the velocity of a laden swallow. It could have also used some of the chicks from the Castle Anthrax that have nothing to do but bathe and make exciting underware, but apparently this wasn’t THAT kind of dream…
In the end, I woke up with the revelation that I have quite the bigoted subconscious going on.
I am not sure that I want to analyze what this dream says about me, but I am pretty sure it classifies me in the category of someone who is most likely going to hell.