I park my truck on a hill and go into an art gallery. I am joined by three beautiful girls. The tall, loud blond is their leader. She ridicules the paintings for a while and we leave. As I follow them out, the proprietor pleads with me in a humorous Scottish brogue to please buy a painting for my wife. Before I can say anything, he answers for me defiantly: "No, of course not!" The girls wait for me outside, standing against a short chain link fence in the sun. I reenact the encounter for them. They all laugh. We now must cross a muddy river flowing in a deep ravine to get back to our cars. I lead the way, slipping down the muddy bank. I walk upstream for a while to rinse off the mud. My pale blue jeans are all wet but nearly clean. Back on the street, I am confused by the roads and am unable to find my truck. I enter a large glass building. Inside, I see that the doorways are like bulkheads on a battleship. I enter through a doorway at the end of a long a hallway and find myself in a large room with another bulkhead doorway leading out into the same hallway. Here, I am approached by Madonna, who has gained some weight. She leads me to her bed. I worry that someone will come through the door.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #325: When I Met Madonna Inside A Glass Building
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