boccaderlupo

I dreamed I took the wife and I to a drive-in circus. We parked amidst cars arrayed this way and that in a field that was partly enclosed by a kind of half-stadium. They were looking for audience members to join a troupe of clowns, and I halfheartedly raised my hand. They announced the retirement of my favorite radio deejay, and I grew sad. Suddenly, the guy in the car next to me, some muscle car from the high times, rammed into our vehicle. I made the wife get out of the car, and, along with another fellow in a neighboring car we rammed right back. The front of my car was severely damaged—the guy had a sort of battery ram that looked like a cowpunch on the front of his vehicle, and it was tearing through our more modern cars with ease—yet somehow I managed to push his vehicle far off into one side of the field. People were yelling and screaming. The guy's car sputtered, spinning in a ditch, turning back towards us. I got out of my car and leaped onto his, and pulled him through the windshield, strangling him.

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I dreamed my brother and I were at some kind of restaurant on a river, maybe down in South Carolina (I've never been to that state). The son of the owner of the restaurant, a rotund, ginger-haired lad, wanted to take us on a tour of the environs and maybe stop at some riverside bars. I told him I wouldn't do so if it involved driving, as I anticipated drinking booze. The kid told us we could go by boat, and directed us to a small vessel on the side of the place. He began piloting us upriver, but we became entrapped by the current, and couldn't go any farther.