This is probably the first time where I was in a house but I can't place where it is. It looks unfinished. Parts of walls aren't built. It looks exposed.

In the dream is my dad and Thomas, my nephew. Thomas doesn't show up until the end of the dream.

Two dogs, a black and white dog with a basket on his back and the dog's companion shows up during a specific song. My dad would climb into the basket and the dog would carry him wherever he wishes. This is obviously a very strong dog, even though he doesn't look that strong. I think he's a sheep herding dog.

During dad's second trip on the dog, he said that it was the very definition of a dog. He was referencing to the dog's will to carry the weight of their master.

I left the house by unlocking the screen door from the inside and exiting it. I could have exited through the very large gap in the wall on the left. It was incomplete.

There was a third dog, who looked like a brown and white British Bulldog.

I went to the garage. I asked Thomas where Oliver was.

Thomas said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but Oliver was run over by a bus"

"What the fuck?", I replied, "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

My work finally integrated itself into my dreams as of last night.

I was driving around a city belt-way going somewhere. I can't place where it is. It does have a distinctive Southern Ontario feeling about it.

There was a middle express way that was characteristic of Hwy 6/Hwy 7 between Guelph at Kitchener/Waterloo. It had the beltway feeling of Hwy 526 in Charleston.

My boss in this dream was a male. After driving on the beltway, I went back to the office. My boss came out and he wanted to drive to the next location, where he would stay and then I was instructed to go to the next location.

We got into a red sports car. He drove to some sort of underground building, wrecking the car in the process and finally smashing it into a concrete wall.

"How am I supposed to drive now?", I asked, annoyed that the car was totaled.

Benny Hill and his old friend are undercover detectives.

He stops the car and tells his old friend to get out of the car. He then steps on the gas and yells at his old friend to walk to the crime scene. He waves his fists in the air and then starts walking.

Benny Hill starts singing Iron Butterfly's "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida". He was expecting the tune to come from his car horn, except it wasn't playing. So he stops singing and then hits the car horn again and again until it starts playing "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida".

The scene goes back to the old man who ran to a bicycle. He starts cycling along. Benny Hill's car stalls and then stops. A bicycle chase down the hill begins. Several young kids joined the bicycle chase. This was when I entered the dream. I was applying my breaks while going down this steep hill. It was kind of like going down a hill in San Fransisco. Except, it harkened memories of my trip to Guelph which was a hilly city.

Off the side of the road, there were organized piles of branches off the side of the road that we were trying to avoid.

When we got to the bottom of the hill, there was a traffic light. We all stopped and were waiting for the signal to change.

And that was the end of the dream.

I was walking down a hallway in a mall with my "dream girl". Her features are better presented in this dream. Shoulder length straight brown hair, brown eyes, I'm guessing weighing around 130-140 lbs, 5'6" tall...very fun gal as always.

At the mall, there was someone who looked like me with silver tiped spiked hair giving us a pretty creepy look. I got the feeling that we was going to kill us.

It had a Hollywood feel to it. He would be there for a few seconds looking at us and then something will move past and he would be gone.

I was driving down some sort of road. I don't know where. It could have been a road in Canada. Anyway, there was a huge white sign that recommended all trucks follow a "short cut". Think of a right angle triangle. This "short cut" was through the right angle. I decided not to take it because I knew better then that.

I dreamed that I had a daughter.
A four year old daughter with blonde hair.
She was running around wearing a white dress.
She told me not to be afraid to tell her that I love her and that I miss her.
I sat on a bench while she ran around.
She fell and she wasn't wearing any underpants.
I shook my head, as though I was saying to myself, "Huh! Kids..."

She sounded like Thomas, my nephew.

I was in a house on the bay. The Marx brothers were there with me.
In the sky there was a World War I bomber with a very archaic looking bomb.
It was a very large warhead with landing gear still attached.
The plane was heading towards the house.
The pilots in the plane talked to their navigation computer to change the trajectory.
They didn't want to hit the house that we were in, so they choose another target. An empty building across the bay.
The plane made it's descent.
The Marx Brothers, not knowing what was going on in the plane, had their backs turned, their ears covered, bunkers set up and a cannon aiming 90 degress (to the righht) away from the plane.
I faced the plane and called the scene.
"It's turning!", I said, watching the plane hovering beside and to the right of the house.
"There goes the bomb!", I said, watching the bomb slowly flying away from the plane.
The bomb flew to a tree between the house and the empty building across the bay.
The bomb exploded with a crack, it sounded like a firework exploding
"It hit the fragging tree!", I said.

The plane landed beside the house.
I went up to the two pilots, who came out and apologized. They had no idea there was someone in the house.

"If only Grouch Marx were here", I said, "He could come up with a snappy comeback"

The Marx Brothers never spoke in the dream.