Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The meaning of dreams

You know what the great thing about being a gorilla is? Humans who’ve known me for less than a day will tell me personal stuff they’d normally reserve for their shrink. Last week it was the turn of a posh English girl to unburden her soul to the hairy bartender of the safari guesthouse.

“I’ve been having this dream about an ex-boyfriend,” she said. “It starts when I’m in the kitchen in my underwear making an omelette.”

“No apron?” I interjected, wishing to picture the scene accurately.

“No apron,” she confirmed. “So my ex walks up behind me, pulls down my knickers and start shagging me from behind.”

“The lecherous swine! How did you know it was him incidentally?”

“He’s talking to me the whole time.”

“Monstrous! Being violated is bad enough, but being forced to listen to the brigand’s running commentary, no doubt delivered in coarse and boastful language, would have crushed the spirit of Joan of Arc!”

“Oh the sex is actually great. Much better than it was in real life. The weird part is that he tells me to carry on making the omelette and gives me instructions while looking over my shoulder. But I can’t concentrate on the cooking and the eggs begin to scramble.”

“Who could blame you? I’m sure even Fanny Cradock would have scrambled the eggs if Johnny had snuck up on her from behind.”

“Well exactly! But after we’ve finished he tells me that I’m a dreadful cook who should never be allowed in a kitchen! Then I wake up feeling terribly humiliated. What do you think it means?”

I scratched my chin pensively.

“The dream seems to be saying that your former paramour took sadistic pleasure in disparaging your cooking. Consider yourself fortunate to be freed from the clutches of that backseat chef!”

“So that’s what it means!” she exclaimed. “Well I hope the dream stops bothering me now that I’ve got the point. Many thanks, GB.”

I was glad to have been of service, but in all honesty I have no idea whether my interpretation was correct. For all I know, the dream might have been telling her to brush up on her cooking skills before letting a man get in her pants.

Be that as it may, I was inspired to do a little research on the subject of dreams. It seems that in the classical world they dealt with far weightier topics than maintaining one’s culinary composure while being bonked from behind. In ancient Rome, the purpose of a dream was to alert the sleeper to some imminent disaster involving pestilence, war, famine or an outbreak of toga rash. Occasionally a goddess might make an appearance, but she always had a fairly important matter to discuss before letting you nuzzle her boobies. It wasn’t until Dr Sigmund Freud said that dreams were expressions of sexual desire that everyone started fornicating in their sleep. The power of pompous bearded men over the collective human psyche should never be underestimated.

I sense that you are dying to hear about my own dreams. What hairy hanky-panky is Old Bananas up to when his eyelids start a-twitching in the dead of night? Well I do have a recurring dream about eating a tub of ice-cream. After scooping most of the contents into my mouth with a silver spoon, the remaining dollops of delight are caressed from the carton with leisurely licks from my primate tongue. I’m sorry to disappoint you if you were hoping for something more titillating. Sex is something you do with your eyes wide open in the jungle.

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What flavor ice cream?
Awww, you are so cute when you are sleeping.

What an interesting sex dream. This is a classic 'good girl's' wish-fulfillment dream. An inner desire to let go and have sex with wild abandon. The omelette signifies her breaking out of her (egg)shell and being comfortable with who she is.

It's a shame I don't dream or I just never remember dreaming.

p.s. A silver spoon? Your harem is spoiling you GB. I hope you reward them with your leisurely licks.
I wish I had those dreams, mine involve running up lighthouses.
Gosh! I feel an omelette coming on!

Although thank you for banishing my libido with that image of Fanny Craddock...
Clearly her dream was expressing her fear that her boyfriend didn't want her to get pregnant, when possibly she was angling for a child.

I draw your attention to her 'scrambling her eggs' whilst having sex. Obviously a metaphor for unwanted contraception.
Still trying to pull one over on us humans. Be honest, Big know you dream about sharing your Ice Cream with Fanny Craddock.
i figure dreams are pretty much born out of desires/fears and other strong emotions.

she totes loves rooting her ex but can't cook for shit (and knows it)
Sally: Vanilla, I'm quite conservative for an ape.

Donunt girl: That's a shrewd interpretation, Ms Donut, it's a pity you don't remember your own ones. Yes, my females spoil me...but I deserve it.

Rachel: Ah well, Rach, at least the exercise should keep you fit and healthy.

Vegetable Assassin: Glad to have stimulated your imagination, Ms VA. I'm sure Fanny was quite a doll in her day.

Red Squirrel: Interesting interpretation, but why did he complain afterwards? I think he was just a fussy eater, there's nothing wrong with scrambled eggs.

Blase: Are you sure Fanny liked ice-cream, fella? You need to do your homework before telling me whom I should share my dessert with.

Kiki: Yeah, but being called a lousy cook is a high price to pay for a good root. How many women would accept that deal?
Superb post yet again GB.
Do Gorillas really sleep on the ground? Would have thought that was a dangerous place to catch 40 winks in the jungle.
Here's one for you: I'm sound asleep (in the dream but I can see it) and my ex-boyfriend from 13 years ago walks in the room. I wake up to find him standing there wearing a white Duran Duran suit. There are twin babies on the dresser. I get up and give him one of the infants then go back to sleep. I would love to dream about ice cream.
Ahhhh you are sweet when you're asleep. Are you sure she was a posh English girl and not a tired-looking Scottish woman with glasses? (Got my Miss Marple hat on).
There's usually a lot of dancing in my dreams. And a lot of people I don't like are always hanging around and bothering me.

I think I like your dream better.
i take this post as an offer to analyze everyone's dreams, so here's the most recent one i remember:

the town is filled with zombies and i'm trying to beat in the head of one with what i think is a baseball bat. but it turns out it's just my plastic hair comb. and it's not doing the trick.

I don't think your dream uninteresting at all. In fact its open to many possible interpretations. I'm sure Freudian psychologists will be able to write tomes on 'lick' and 'cream' alone.
Cow is sure that the Gorilla Crunch with chocolatey bits is the stuff of which dreams are made.

Cow wishing Gorilla many more happy dreams, perhaps containing peppermint swirl or raspberry sorbet.

The posh girl has unfulfilled fantasies, that's clear, Mr Bananas. Naughty sex and a dash of kynkyness are often unfulfilled dreams for humans. Hence, the fantasies, and even the dreams.

Oh and it's not necessary to keep your eyes open, LOL.

Very sweet pic of you sleeping, btw. ;)
Rubbish: Thank you, Mr Rubbish. Sleeping on the ground is quite safe provided you have a lookout. I usually hire a chimp.

Ana: Splitting up twins is rather tragic, Ana. Did you and your ex-boyfriend split the restaurant bills as well?

Lady Daphne: She might have been putting on the accent, milady. It's difficult to be sure who the genuine toffs are these days.

Ms OWO: I hate the idea of you being bothered in your sleep. You can use me as a chaperone if it would help.

Kara: The dream is telling you that running is a better solution for zombies than violence, Missy. Next time, shake your tush and get moving.

Doctor: My dear fellow, sometimes a tub of ice cream is just a tub of ice cream.

Topiary Cow: Not that keen on raspberries, Ms Cow, but peppermint sounds good. I would happily share my sweets with you, of course!

Leni: Do you really think is was a fantasy, Leni? She spoke as if it were a nightmare, but she may have been pretending. I always keep my eyes wide open unless I have a lookout.
depends what generation they are i think

i'm Gen Y. So i'd assume many would rather be good in the sack then good at cooking...
"The power of pompous bearded men over the collective human psyche should never be underestimated": that David Bellamy and Bill Oddie must indeed be the the humans that animals love to hate most.
Recently found your blog - not sure how..I am so glad I did.. loved reading this post.. what an interesting dream this girl had.. but I don't know if I'd want to be taken from behind while cooking.. no cooking and sexing don't go hand in hand..
How odd.

I have a very similar recurring dream - except that I take the part of the omelette.

I wonder what it means?
There's two ways to stuff a turkey, but they really shouldn't be done simultaneously, dreams or otherwise.
Hmmmmph! I'm always buck naked in my kitchen but nobody's ever tried to get funky with me...from the front or behind! my dreams or real life!!!! *Sigh*
Who is that gorgeous creature in the last picture? The set of his features reminds me of the view when I turn over to watch Ruf sleeping peacefully.
Why do so many men I know prefer to cook with a microwave? Can everything in the world be carried out in 3 minutes 33 seconds?
I think the tub is a symbol for your mother's womb, and that it's filled with ice cream probably means that you feel that you've received little warmth from her even though you were willing to go through the greatest efforts to please her orally.
Kiki: I'd hate to think that women had to choose between being good at sex or good at cooking. Aren't there skills common to both activities?

Gadjo: I thought Bill Oddie was more garrulous than pompous.

Miss Overthinker: Hello and welcome, Miss. You are very wise not to mix cooking with sex. It must be difficult to concentrate on both at the same time.

Mosha: It sounds as if a woman has been scrambling your yolk sack.

Chris V: Only two ways to stuff a turkey? I can think of lots of things that would fit inside.

Sabrina: I never realised you had your own kitchen, Saby. I like the sound of your daydreams, but remember to turn down the heat when you're having them.

Joanna: You can watch me as well, Joanna, as long as you resist the temptation to play with my chest hair. I might think your finger was an insect and bite it.

Madame Defarge: Search me, Madame Defarge. I prefer to eat everything raw.

Borah: What??! Are you suggesting I wanted to lick my own mother? You are asking for a spanking, young lady!
Ah, dear Banana-y Gorilla...according to Freud himself, your recurring dream about eating a tub of ice-cream, scooping most of the contents into your mouth with a silver spoon, those remaining dollops of delight you so carefully lick up, means that you are sexually repressed. Your dream means you want to perform cunnilingus on a female cow..or practice primate gynecology in a traveling circus.
MrB, I think your chest hair would be irresistible and Id have to stroke your face as well. Ruf often ends up swatting me off because it's all just too tickly :)
So what you're saying is then, GB, is that a lot of people are spoending more time dreaming about it than doing it.
Static: Did Freud really tell you have cows have ice-cream in their vaginas? I think he's been pulling your leg from his couch in the sky.

Joanna: Well, if you can't resist, you can't resist. I suppose my females could teach you how to do properly.

Emerson: Yes, indeed, it's part of the safe sex revolution.
@ G Bananas - No sir. What I meant was that cows produce milk, which makes the cream for that tub of ice cream your dreamt about...hence the reason your dream pertains directly to cows - according to Freud certain images in dreams allude to, or are symbolic representations of sexual act(s). In this case, a sexual act with a cow, and the bucket of ice cream which you were eating from indicates, specifically, giving oral sex to a cow's vagina.

Yum yum. Eat it up, big boy. Om nom nom nom!
Well unfortunately for your theory the ice cream was made of soya milk, me being a vegetarian primate who avoids animal products whenever he can. So your bovine ramblings leave you floundering with your head up a cow's vagina and a bad case of teat envy.
Honesty is a good quality in big hairy apes!
Soya ice cream is divine! And I look forward to being educated by your female companions in the future :) Are there any plans for them to begin a small subsection on this blog...?
They'd never settle for a sub-section, Joanna. They are used to roaming wild and free.
@ Mr. Bananas - How dare you dash my fantasy to bits and pieces like that! =P
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