Bob visited me for the 3rd time in the last year. The first time it was a neighbor that brought him over. The guy had organized a concert and afterwards Dylan was pissed that no one spoke English. So the guy brought him to me. We had drinks, shot the shit and he left.
The second time, he just showed up at my door, since he already knew me. Wanted a place to crash for the night. So we had a few drinks, shot the shit, he went to bed on the couch.
The next morning he wants to go out to visit the town and the countryside, and he wants to drive. Hey it's Bob, I give him my keys and we head off. However, he is not used to the narrow French roads and ends up driving the car into a pond.
I tell him to accelerate to maximum and try to get to the ramp at the other side before we sink. We Managed to make it up the ramp and onto the road before the car died with water pouring out of it. Dylan says, don't worry, I'll fix this tomorrow. A tow truck takes it away.
The next day, Bob wakes up early and says he's going out. A few hours later he's back with a HUGE limousine to replace my small car. I tell him, Bob, this is France, where the fuck am I ever going to be able to park this? He says it's mine now, sell it and buy a smaller one.
He showed up again last night and..... DAMNIT! I remembered that dream when I started writing this, and now it is gone...
I have very vivid and strange dreams Is that a sign of some sort of mental health problems?