Had three very strange dreams last night/this morning.

FIRST DREAM

I got mixed up with a small group of Russian drug traffickers operating out of Greenland or some such snowbound region north of the tree line.
Bryan Adams was a social studies instructor, the ringleader of the Russians, or both.
IIRC, they were trafficking blue crystal meth ala Breaking Bad.
The Russians invited me to an orgy. One of the Russians, a 40-something blonde with a nice rump, offered said rump to me, but the orgy was taking place in a small, crapped office with garbage strewn everywhere; my libido was swiftly overtaken by disgust and I couldn’t stand to linger there, so I got the hell out.
IIRC, the Russians transformed into MLP-style ponies.
IIRC, a Lovecraftian deity – probably Yog-Sothoth – showed up and consumed the Russians.

SECOND DREAM

Andrea Nemeth and I were each other’s first, true loves. Though we’d been separated at some point in our early teens, we managed to reconnect through the Internet at some point in the late 2000s. Around 2008, though, she abruptly vanished. She ceased sending me e-mails, and her presence on-line became nil. The only physical clue I had to the cause behind her disappearance was a case of vials of insulin. For the next several years, I tried to find out what happened to her. I got nowhere.

THIRD DREAM

It was frigid and snowing outside. I had come down with a cold, and I was so physically weak that I kept falling over on my face, nearly paralyzed. At some point, I had a fever dream within a dream that I was clumsily trying to make love to a middle aged woman with long, straight, raven-black hair.