I had a classmate back in 1st year college. His name is Robert Paulsen. Hehe, no. Seriously, his name is Edmond Montoya. He's a certified loon, as in mentally deficient. Well I'm crazy too, so I usually get my kicks just by talkin' to the guy.
It was weird in my dream because I was engaging in a fistfight with Edmond's attorney. Edmond's attorney?!? What the fuck is up with that?!? Who the hell in his sane mind would try to defend this crazy individual in court?! Or better yet, why would Edmond hire an attorney? He would never think of hiring one in 123 million years!
So there I was scrappin' with Edmond's lawyer. I was swingin' wildly while he craftily maneuvered himself away from my bombs. In fairness, he had good head movement and footwork.
But the real reason why I couldn't hit the motherfucker was because I was too slow and sloppy. You all[well I guess not all] know how it is in dreams, where all free movement seem restricted. Punching seems like punching in water! It seems like you're swimmin' in sludge or quicksand, so moving is so difficult.
Man I wish I was punching that crazy lawyer for real. Imagine the different outcome of the fight. I would knock him the fuck out! It's gonna be lights out for him in real life.
How ironic that would be for him. Waking up to reality, just to be knocked back again into unconsciousness.
