Come on Down and Get Arrested

I'm back in the habit of having odd dreams again. I really don't know where my brain gets some of this stuff, but I'm grateful for the free entertainment (well, nearly free-- I'd accidentally turned off my alarm in the middle of the night and woke up about ten minutes before I needed to be at work... was only five minutes late, but that's late enough to anger my grumpy old boss, aka father).
Two nights ago, I had a dream that I was on this road trip with a weird collection of guys. Driving our little red car was Oliver Newkirk, this very sweet and very hairy boy I'm acquainted with. I only see O about every six months, unfortunately, but there he was, our chauffeur. In the front passenger seat was Jared de Leon, controlling the music (this is not a surprise, as Jared packs his stereo with him everywhere in real life-- kind of 1980s boom-box, pre-Walkman style). I sat in the back with Daniel Armstrong on my right and Rudy Parsons on my left. Daniel's a big ex-football player, and even in my dream, I couldn't figure out how I got squished in the middle back, especially when I get as carsick as I do, except maybe the boys in the back were all a little homophobic and didn't want to be that close to another dude? Who knows. Anyway, I don't know where we were going, and Oliver sometimes morphed into this kid from church named Tyler, who I mostly only know as "Hugh Jackman" (because that was his name in a recent game we played at FHE) or "Riley's cousin." But whoever he was at the time started speeding like a demon. Everyone in the car thought this was pretty fun. Jared had the music pumpin', and I guess after complaining about how squished I was, I stretched one leg out between the front seats, and the other one out on Daniel. Don't ask me why I thought this would be comfortable. But while Oliver/Tyler was speeding down the road, Jared and Daniel each grabbed a foot and started tickling me like crazy, and I was convulsing and screeching. I really am not into being tickled. I don't remember Rudy doing much but grinning his Rudy grin and staying quiet. Anyway, my hollering must have propelled O/T to go even faster down a stretch of road (which I think was south on 4th St. in Albuquerque's North Valley), and suddenly we were being pulled over. The police officer was an aged, but not dead, Farrah Fawcett. She didn't ask for just O/T's license, but for ALL of our licenses. When she came back a few minutes later, she gave ME a ticket for causing a disruption by laughing while the boys tickled me and O/T was trying to concentrate on driving. She'd run our licenses through a scanner in her patrol car which gave her all kinds of information. She gave Jared a ticket for playing lame music and started to arrest Rudy. He said, "You've got the wrong man!" And she said, "No, I don't. You're the Rudy with the secret crush on Rachel, aren't you?" And he sputtered, "How did you know that?" Farrah shrugged her shoulders and said, "Facebook." And then I woke up.
This morning's dream was much more disturbing. It started out at a card game with a bunch of ladies. I didn't know most of them, but I assume we were playing Pokeno-- the game I used to play with a bunch of gals. Rather than gambling, my real-life Pokeno group used to bring some kind of themed gift to exchange. In my dream, we all brought some used item to exchange, presumably in the name of being earth-friendly and frugal. But I guess everyone I was playing with had children, so all the gifts were these worn-out children's toys. We were having our Pokeno game at Gardunos' and I had won a round, and selected this broken Magna-Doodle type of thing. I don't know what you call the ones with the hot-pink plastic, but you know what I mean, right? Anyway, I didn't want anyone to take it away so I started to say that I really had to go-- had another obligation. But then the ladies decided to give up on their game and everyone went to select a prize. We actually had to go into another room to check on the other prizes, and boy, did I get the short-end of the stick for being greedy, because the other moms were getting rid of some mighty-fine used children's toys. There was a ski-ball machine, and a ball pit, and an inflatable jump house. But the best was something like that game from The Price is Right where you punch holes in a wall and pull out prizes. The wicked-cool thing was, it came with Bob Barker! He seriously made an appearance with his little tiny microphone and everything. Now to be honest, I've never been a fan of Bob's, mostly because I think he's mean. And boy, was he awful in my dream! All those mothers had brought their children to our game, who were mostly playing in the ball pit. One kid was being kind of a stinker, so right into the tiny microphone, Bob totally chewed him out. He said, "Listen, you fat little B~$%@#!, you're going to learn to behave, or you'll never make anything out of your life!" I don't remember all of the lecture, but I did think it was excessive, and even though the kid was a punk, it was awful. The culmination was Bob taking off his tie, and I thought he was going to use it as a whip on the little chubby boy. But instead, he smiled and handed it to him like a souvenir, implying that in later years, the boy would think back to how Bob Barker put him back on the straight and narrow.
Anyway, they say you can tell a lot about a person's character by what they think about when they don't have to think about anything. I don't really know what Farrah and Bob say about me, but I don't think I really want to know.