I was something like a jar of mayonnaise. The refrigerator where we existed had a clear liquid trickling down from some source I had set up earlier in the dream.

There was "all the rich jews of the world" represented by a mystard bottle and that person in mustard form was a thirty-something slightly overweight woman with a pearl necklace, but also a mustard jar.

She was kissing me somehow. I didn't want this but I couldn't stop it.

Then all the poor jews including the Palestinians of the world were represented by an open jar of chocolate covered ants, but also dirty like inedible. Somehow they also looked like that cartoonish stereotypical picture of a dark skinned jew with a big nose wearing a turban. Somehow a masculin, dirty, thin and starving, smelly older man.

I told the jar of mustard, "you need to unify with them."

She was appauled.

The liquid from earlier was a trickle of white people slowly filling up another jar, pure, clear, slightly viscus.

Of course I was white mayonnaise, I don't know of any other type.

On the shelf above and below were all the other races of the world.