Aliens And Obama

June 23, 2009 at 1:41 AM | Posted in Personal | Leave a comment
  The dream started out with nothing to do with aliens or Obama.
  I was waiting on my bed, naked, and either Lisa the VP from HR or Robin the Nurse came in (they are very similar to me in build, demeanor, and voice) and was going to do a prostate exam on me.  We never did get to that, and then it’s Lisa next to me under the covers.  Kim comes in while Lisa is showing me a scar from a surgery she had on her arm.  Then she turns over, and I can see that she is naked, I can see her butt.  She shows me this odd surgery scar and explains what it is. 
  At her lower back is a tiny hole, and up by her shoulder is another hole.  They are connected by a tube under her skin, and it serves some purpose that is completely logical.  Lisa said it does give her some unique abilities, and Kim said, "You can hear traffic better, even with the windows rolled up."
  Lisa agreed.
  When I left I was in a building that was in a building at a community college.  There had just been an attack, and there was alot of confusion and people scrambling everywhere.  We needed to rebuild civilization, and fast.  I tried to get a few other section leaders together, to lead groups of people to safety.  We agreed to meet in the auditorium, the smaller one with the stadium seating.  We didn’t need the big one because not that many people were left.  Besides, it had been destroyed.  Then I had to leave, I had a meeting helping a friend of mine with a business venture.
  Obama was standing out in the open, in a grassy knoll.  We came up to him, and he greeted us.  I asked him, "Do you have your security people here?" 
  He balked at answering me, it seemed like.  "Yeah–uh, yeah, they’re around here somewhere.  Covert surveillance."
  "Bullshit," I said.  You can’t protect the president that way.  Obama, my friend, and this other guy were on the outdoor truck dock, and I went inside the warehouse to scout the back.  When I came back, my friend was showing Obama his invention.
  His invention was amazing.  It was a suit–looked like a nice, regular, nicely-tailored dress suit–with Kevlar CF-7 in it.  I didn’t know what the "CF-7" meant, but it was added protection and it was thinner.  The real kicker, though, was that the Kevlar went all the way around.  It was in the back of the suit as well as the front.  Obama was impressed.  No one had ever thought to put Kevlar on someone’s back before.
  I thought of adding to the presentation with a statistic–that in 7 of the last 53 presidential assassination attempts, the victim was shot in the back–but it seemed a bit crass at that the time.  Besides, he was already interested, and we would get a juicy government contract.  That’s when we were attacked.  We were out in the open, in a park, and the things just started flying in at us.  Aliens.  One of the little green balls that we were trying to dodge hit me in the neck, and I grabbed my neck, thinking, *I’m shot, I’m bleeding!* but there was no blood.
  I looked on the ground, and it turns out this vast array of little round pale green things flying at us was tennis balls.  After they were shot at us, they were inert, so I picked some up and started to return fire.  I also picked up what appeared to be an open-ended hoola-hoop with a scoop on the end.  I used this to bat the balls out of the way and also scoop them up and return fire.  I shot a round of several tennis balls towards the president, and he ducked, but I got the small alien spacecraft that were floating behind him.  I saved him from the alien spaceships.  They looked like the road-side construction cones, except they were lime-green in color like the balls and the hoola-hoops. 
  It must be their color, I thought.  I wondered if it would lead to a way to defeat them.  I thought I was doing pretty good against them–I was a fury of spinning and throwing.  I was scooping up the balls with the spinning hoops and catching them in the air, and throwing them with my hands or whipping them with the hoops, and occasionally while I would spin I would kick one out of the air that was coming straight for my head.
  Then the marines showed up with actual weapons, and it was pretty much over at that point.  I remember wondering what would happen to the brownie points I thought I had earned for saving Obama–did they just expire when the marines showed up?

FOOTNOTE:  All other things being equal, the Vice President of Human Resources is probably the one person you shouldn’t email and lay out the details of the semi-erotic dream you had with them in the starring role.

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