Seriously, are there any dream interpreters out there? I've been on vacation in Spain for the past few days, and I've been having the strangest dreams. I can't tell if there's something in the water, or something in the absinthe, or what the fuck's going on.

[A little backstory: I haven't been on vacation in a while, so me and some friends are spending a week in Barcelona, eating and drinking and smoking (hashish) our way through town.]

I can never remember my dreams, but since we've been in Spain, they've been as vivid as ever. Please let me know if you can help me find out what they mean:

1. On the first night, I had a long, disturbing dream in which I was voluntarily using all of my resources to prevent John Mellencamp from being assassinated.

2. I've written a lot about Coldplay. A couple years back, around the release of XY, I did the Rolling Stone cover story on 'em. So, in the dream, I'm approaching a hotel room, where I'm supposed to interview Chris Martin. I'm a little annoyed, because Mr. Martin can be very closed off (it's a British thing) during interviews — it can be difficult to get him to say anything deep. Anyway, the weird thing is that somehow, my shoes are full of wet turds. I'm trying to conceal the fact that they are, literally, full of shit. When I speak with Chris, the interview is a disaster. It ends with him laughing at me.

3. The most bizarre, perhaps. I'm in science class in about eighth grade or so, and we have a substitute teacher, and it's Eugene Hutz, the singer from the awesome band Gogol Bordello. At some point, Hutz scribbles chicken-scratch onto the blackboard, and asks me to read it. It says something like, "Letts" — as in, people from Latvia — "are better at starting a revolution than any other race." This happens even given the fact that I know that Hutz is from the Ukraine. The dream ends with me begging Hutz to play drums in my Bob Dylan cover band.

Please help.