Ok. Super strange totally weird fucking bizarre dream. First some housekeeping. DISCLAIMER: I am not bi or curious. I think this had everything to do with the bomb ass chicken nachos I had last night before I passed out. I needed to document it because this is weird as fuck – and yet I am finding serious meaning in it.
The dream opens and I am Robin Thicke’s girlfriend. I pull up to his house (ceiling in tact. Lol- lil hippitty hop joke there). And I go into the building. Apparently in my dream, Robin Thicke lives in North Queens over by the Louis Armstrong school. So we are in there and something happens where we get into a fight. I am really upset and he is being flippant. So I decide that I no longer needed to be there. I stormed out of the house and my car was no out front where I left it. I pressed the alarm, the way I do in the mall garages to find it and it alerted me that the car was down the block. I get in the car still fuming mad and start driving.
Suddenly, I am on the beach chillin’ with Beyonce and she is counseling me on the whole thing. Mind you – we are on a public but fairly deserted beach. So we’re both laying on our stomachs getting some sun on our backs and she’s talking me through it all and then makes the suggestion that I probably just need some dick. To which I firmly agree – cause I always agree to that. And she said, I can help you. I am thinking she means she can pick from her throngs of straight groupies and throw me one (you know, like the guy artists do with their girl groupies). I turn to agree and she has propped herself on her elbow to reveal her underside where she had 2 dicks. One, fairly regular sized black man’s penis and then one that was the size of my arm and she mused, “which one do you want?” Speechless, because beyond trying to figure out why Beyonce is a hermaphrodite but moreso why she has TWO distinctly different penises, I just stammered. And she said, “just lay there… I’ll take care of you”. With that she laid atop my back and slid what felt liked the arm sized penis between my legs and into me. She braced herself on my shoulders and whispered what sounded like Snake speak from Harry Potter. I was in a trance and felt all the anger dissipate.
I was agreeing to whatever she said and at one point there was a brief discourse about where butterflies go when it’s raining or nighttime. Which she had an answer for (of course — she’s Beyonce). Not sure if SHE was finished or of she felt I’d had enough, but she rolled off of me and looked satisfied with her work. Then started chatting as if nothing happened. She mused that we needed to go get ready for the party. I glanced over and saw one of MBs friends in the industry, Mecca, set up on the beach RIGHT near us and thought to myself – whoa… He must’ve seen everything. This is going to be a huge scandal. We walk away from the beach and are now in the house getting ready for the party. While we do our makeup, I ask Beyonce if she took notice of who was set up near us when our episode took place. She said, “Ohhh…. There was someone there and you’re afraid they might say something about you?” And I said, “umm moreso that they would say something about YOU, Ms. International Super Icon…” She turned to me and said … “Don’t worry. I’ll get away with it.” She pinched my cheek and with that we were at the party.
I expected it to be on everyone’s lips at the party. Even Mecca was there. But no… Not an utterance. And I was just in awe. And a little sore.
Then I woke up. Totally bizarre. I need to reevaluate my pre slumber meals for REAL.