Dream Log, 16 March 2011

Had a dream last night. Bryce was there, dunno why or in what capacity [probably because chicks love anal]. There was an oldish man, maybe I wanted to talk to him? He couldn't talk 'cause he was chasing after these two guys who were stealing a big red [combine harvester? I have no idea what that looks like, but in my dream that's what it was called] machine. The old man grabbed one of the guys and gave him a right hefty throw off the machine on to the ground, where he lay motionless for awhile, whilst the old man took care of the other dude. I walked up to one of them as they were on the ground. He had a little bottle of gasoline--as if they made flask sized plastic bottles you could carry around, for an emergency. He had long greasy orangish hair, and I dumped all the gasoline on him, and made motions as though I was gonna light him on fire. All I had was a Bic lighter, so it would've been more difficult. He started talking some words about how he wasn't really stealing, and it was the old man who was at fault. I don't remember very well. In the end, I decided not to light the man on fire. The last thing I remember before my alarm woke me was the long haired fellow pulling clumps of hair off his head. I think he was sad, I think he was proud of his long greasy hair. It was still long, just not as long.