Post your dreams in the comments section, email me at telpher@gmail.com, or tweet your dreams to Snapperpacheco on Twitter.

Sunday, January 31, 2016

You Like It Crunchy, Indeed


For this very special edition of The Gay Agenda, Peter Kadlec, of Montpelier, Vermont,  will serve as guest expert on the human subconscious, and interpret MY dream, for a change. It's a goody.


My dream:

Two nights ago, I dreamt I was on a date with a really beautiful woman. We were in her kitchen and I volunteered to cook dinner, instead of us going out for a meal.

In the dream, I was thinking, "This is nice. I can't remember the last time I liked a woman in this way."

And then I went to the fridge to get out ingredients for dinner.

I opened the freezer, and discovered it was full of cereal boxes. Corn Flakes, to be exact.

Boxes and boxes of corn flakes - just filling the entire freezer so that, when I opened the door, it was a wall of cereal boxes.  I asked the beautiful woman, "Why is your freezer full of cereal??."

She looked at me as if I were crazy, and answered, "Because I like my corn flakes crunchy, silly."

And then, in the dream, I thought to myself, "Oh, yeah, that's right. I ONLY ever like crazy women who do irrational things."

And then I woke up.



Peter's Interpretation

Sister, please. A woman you deeply crave is showing you a closeted deep-freeze full of Corn Flakes, each box of which prominently displays a strutting, crowing cock.

That crowing signals time to wake up and let this cereal out. Your superego's reaction is one of disappointment in the irrationality of this bland, banal, and nutritionally bankrupt lifestyle. However, a little exploration will reveal something that the majority of us already know: the sublime pleasure of stuffing down three or four bowls in one sitting. Admit it: you, too, like it crunchy.

This dream is about your recent genealogical investigation and the unseen family history on your father's side that you are unconsciously avoiding. That's right: you are a Protestant. Only WASPs would be stupid enough to store cereal in a freezer. Put down your cafe con leche and mofongo, and find yourself a nice corn-fed Midwestern girl who knows her way around a tuna casserole and a tin of Campbell's mushroom soup.

Friday, December 4, 2015

Ten Percent Bent

Julia Perce, of Woodstock, NY writes:

"I was concentrating REALLY hard on bending a fork. And this woman's toy poodle just would NOT SHUT THE FUCK UP. It felt like a stress dream."


The fork represents your sexuality, and I don't think you're trying to bend it so much as UNbend it. The toy poodle - a little ball of fur belonging to a woman - is clearly a representation of female genitalia, and she's fairly screaming out to you. Go ahead: focus all the energy you can muster on making that fork bend the way you wish it would, but there's no escaping the fact that the call of vagina is fairly ringing in your ears, diverting you from this fool's errand. You're gay, Julia, like an estimated ten percent of the population, and no amount of effort is going to change this. You can try, but you won't succeed. You can't de-gay yourself any more than you can bend flatware, so why even stress it, at all? Didn't anyone tell you Uri Geller was a fraudster?


Sunday, November 29, 2015

Playing the Gay Card


Lisa Schamess, of Washington, D.C. writes:

"True fact: last night I dreamt you and I sat down to a meal and you drew stories for me on index cards and read them to me like I was your little sister <3. No chickens were harmed in the making of this dream."

Your dream takes place as the two of us are sitting down to a meal. This is a good sign. It signifies that the information and wisdom this dream is trying to impart is of a nourishing nature. It also points to the fact that you're hungry for some truth that eludes you during your waking hours.

In economics, an index is a statistical measure of change. The index cards in your dream, Lisa, represent change - change you desire or anticipate. Change, in and of itself could mean anything, but you've dreamt about a lesbian as the narrator or guide (the big sister to your little sister) of this change. It's interesting that you describe me in your dream as not writing stories, but drawing them. When I think about "drawing" a story, which seems more visual than word-based, I imagine creating a map. Your dream version of me isn't drawing on a sheet of paper, which would be appropriate for a map, though, but on cards. Index cards. And what are cards which use drawings to chart out change and map a person's future? Tarot cards. Let me be your sapphic gypsy sister, Lisa, and feed you a big old slice of truth about yourself for which you hunger: you're gay. You might not be acting very gay, right now, but a change is on the horizon. It's all in the cards.




Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Cry Fowl, And Let Loose the Seven Sisters

After a long hiatus, The Gay Agenda is back with two short-but-sweet dream interpretations. Send those dreams, and I'll do my best to tell you how gay you are.

Bernard B., of Boulder Colorado posts: 

"Dreamt of chicken. Woke up to no chicken. :( "

Beebs, do you even know the difference between a chicken and a rooster? Your dream is clearly about COCK. Imagine your disappointment to wake up from such a blissful, homoerotic dream, and find yourself still stuck living a heterosexual lie! Dude, you are totally gay. My advice to you is: avoid Chick Fil A. 





Tamara R.B.O., of  Stratham, New Hampshire, writes:

"I dreamt of Mother Theresa and waiting tables at a college dining hall."

First off, Tamara, I suggest you buy a copy of "Lesbian Nuns: Breaking The Silence." You think priests are the only ones who take vows of chastity to avoid outing themselves as queer? Everyone knows that "nun" is, as often as not, Catholic for "lesbian." Your dream is a clarion call - a call to service. While Mother Theresa was called upon to take care of lepers and starving children, though, your calling is of a more carnal nature. A dream about a college dining hall? From a New England girl like you? Higher education means one thing, when you're north of Yonkers: LESBIANS. 

Your dream indicates that you are not only gay, but a bottom in search of a top: like Mother Theresa, you yearn to serve, and serve humbly. Get yourself over to Northampton, and find yourself a butch top. Smith and Hampshire are teeming with them. 



Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Off With Its Head!

Tawny Segrestein, of Brooklyn, New York writes:

"I had a dream a bedbug bit me but it was big and long. I killed it and cut its head off. I had it in a piece of paper and looked up what it was in hopes it might not be one. When I threw it in the toilet another huge bedbug came off the paper to eat the dead one. Then a black snake came out of the toilet to eat them both.

Now I don't want to go in the bathroom."

Tawny, the bed bugs in your dream represent penises. Big and long and, really, just such a nuisance! At least that's true if you're a lesbian, which you obviously are. They creep up on you and, like bed bugs, invade your life and your living space. They suck the life out of you just as surely as bed bugs suck the blood from under your skin. Getting rid of bed bugs can be a big job. Getting rid of unwanted penis is no small order, either. 

Your dream is about how trapped and cornered you feel about living in a heterosexual patriarchy...just the way thousands of Brooklynites are trapped in bed-bug-infested apartments, with little or no recourse. Your killing of the first bed bug (cutting off its head, no less!) is your subconscious mind expressing your desire to cut sexual attention from males right off, at the source. 

The fact that there always seem to be more bed bugs in your dream scenario, and that they feast on one another is telling: you're not just dreaming about penises, you're dreaming about cannibalistic penises. Your deep-seated anger at all things male has manifested itself in the form of a dream in which you say, in effect, "Go fuck yourself" to everyone with XY chromosomes. 


You are one angry lesbian.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Karen Silkwood Was Murdered

Kristine Phoenix Artinian writes:

I was staying at a friend's house and I was running late for work. It was a GIANT house and I needed to shower, and I started it but then I went to lock the bathroom door. There wasn't just one door, but several because the bathroom was actually an insanely long corridor with the shower stall at one end. By the time I locked all the doors to the end and got back, my friend had turned off the shower and taken over that end of the bathroom. I hiked back to the other end, thinking I had seen a shower at that end as well, but when I got back down there I saw it was a lavish outdoor pool with lots and lots of people in and around it. All this took place while I was wrapped in a towel. At this point I was so late I just decided to go to work dirty. 
Kristine, the fact that your dream self is running late is an indication that you feel, in the grand scheme of things, you're running out of time. We're mortal beings, my friend, and time is finite. Like many people who reach middle age, you're at a crossroads, and this dream is presenting you with certain options that lay ahead of you: the one you choose will be pivotal in how the rest of your life plays out.
You've dreamt about about shame, self-loathing, and the multiple layers of protection you've built up to hide from the inescapable truth about yourself.  The GIANT house in your dream represents your psyche - so vast and complicated, cavernous, really. An easy place in which to get lost....especially when one harbors a GIANT secret and GIANT shame. In the dream, you find yourself in this big house, and feel you need a shower. This is because in your waking hours, when you look too deeply into yourself, you feel unclean. What you keep hidden away behind closed, psychic doors is that which you feel is filthy and unseemly, and you wish you could wash it away. The long bathroom you describe is the length of time you've already lived: your life to-date. It's been a long road getting to where you are today, and there are multiple locks and doors at the end that long span of time from that which you find unclean: your true sexual preference, which is that of a gay woman. Just as you've spent years (and lots of energy) locking the world away from your inner lesbian, your dream self takes the long walk to lock the multiple doors behind you. The good news is, this is ultimately a dream about you confronting this crossroads with friends-of-Dorothy on hand to lead you to the promised land. Whereas you've spent a lifetime locked away from the world, what you're clearly ready to do at this stage in life is shut the door on what's behind you and take not a Karen Silkwood shower to wash away the gay, but to enjoy a dip in a luxurious pool of Sapphic delights. You're ready to take the full muff dive, Kristine. Your nudity, except for a towel, illustrates how exposed you suddenly feel, now that you've subconsciously decided to embrace your inner lesbian. Be brave and go out into the world dirty, Gay Girl. If Meryl Streep had just hit it with Cher, like she should have, Silkwood would have been a completely different movie.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Truly, Madly, Deeply


Cappy Sue writes:

I was in a house with all kinds of people - some I knew and some I did not. We knew someone was killing people so, when we figured out who it was, we bashed him on the head. It was a guy who looked a lot like Alan Rickman. I am not sure if it was supposed to be him or not. But that was what was running through my head while I crammed his injured body into a giant microwave.

He was beating on the door to get out but in a effort to stop him I went ahead and cooked him. It was gross and he melted and bubbled something like gremlins being born. He then turned into a little girl in a floral dress that had no sleeves. 


When I was done cooking him I wrapped the remains up in a fleece blanket and took it outside and saw a park across the way. I sat it on the park bench and bought a balloon from one of those strolling vendors. No one seemed concerned I was carting around this melted glob of an Alan Rickman girl. I put the little balloon in the thing's hand and sat there for a few moments. Then I got up and went to buy a hot dog.
End of the dream. 

Cappy, this dream is telling you, via Alan Rickman, that relationships with men are truly, madly, deeply killing you, and that it's time for you to take serious action. Like Rickman's character in this charming movie, societal-imposed heterosexuality has moved from being a comfort, to being the ultimate guest-who's-overstayed-his-welcome. You do your best to get rid of Alan (who represents the hoards of men you've bedded down in an effort to prove your heterosexuality) but he's a stubborn bastard, and makes all kinds of noise, forcing you to take drastic measures. While it may seem as if you're torturing Rickman by turning on the microwave oven, what you're really doing is purging yourself of one reality and embracing another. An oven doubles as an incubator, and this dream is telling you that, only by killing the falsehood of heterosexuality will you ever be able to truly nurture your true nature: that of a woman who loves women.  The little girl Rickman turns into? That's you, sister, in all your babydyke glory, wearing signs of Spring and rebirth.

The end of your dream may seem odd and disturbing, but it's actually very positive. You obviously have some deep-seated fear about what kind of reception you'll get from the world if you finally embrace your queerdom. The fact that you're sitting on a park bench with Melted Alan Rickman and no one seems to give a damn? That's your subconscious telling you that, more and more, being gay is seen as no big deal. Don't worry what people will think. What about the hot dog, you ask? If you're afraid you'll miss that part of hetero sex, have no fear: lesbians can buy those things these days, and often do. 

Yup. Gay.