Where's Freud when you need him?

So I'm at this party at a house. There are people everywhere. Mostly long haired men, some with pot bellies, some missing teeth. It's at a house that's seen better years, all the windows are thrown open to the summer night, the doors are too. Everyone is standing around in the yellowish sodium light glow. There's a line of people, all men, waiting to get in the house. They are excited about something. Apparently there is a Whore, an African Whore, inside. And she's giving spankings.
To get in the house to get to the fridge for a beer, you have to cut through the line. So I'm trying to cut, when a man starts talking to me. He's got really stringy hair tied up with a bread tie. And Coke-bottle glasses. And he's telling me, very earnestly that "Sex is just such a serious thing for me. See, I still live at home with my mom, so whenever I have sex, it's really serious" Like his mom is there when he has sex or something. Which makes me start snickering at him. I tried to hide my smirk behind my hair, but I think he saw it. I just couldn't wait to tell Amy. I turn around and go inside and there she is, watching the African Whore give men spankings. And I'm laughing at the absurdity of it and what Creepy-Boy just told me and I'm trying to whisper in her ear above the very loud music what just happened and then...... I woke up. Laughing.