Get Out Your Dream Dictionary

I had a dream that we were picking Joey up to go to Walmart, and he came out to the van carrying two forked sticks covered with spiderwebs. Within the webs, were several tarantulas.

"No! No! Those are not coming into my van! No spiders!"

"Relax, these guys feel safe in their webs. In fact, you wouldn't be able to get them out of their webs. It's perfectly okay."

I let him get in the van (the first sign that this was, indeed, a dream!), and we drove to Walmart. We did our shopping, and when we came out of the store, the spiderweb sticks were empty. I stood in the parking lot, bags in hand, shrieking.

"Where are they?! You find them! I told you this was a bad idea! Joey!! Find them!!"

"Obviously, they felt safe in the van, and came out of their webs. You should feel honored."

"How many were there? You find every one!"

And so he found them and we were on our way to the restaurant where we were meeting several people for dinner. One of the condiments everyone was enjoying was a gross mixture of old coffee grounds and hot sauce. Someone offered some to Joey.

"Oh, man. No thanks. My dad uses that shit- it's gross. If I just smell it, I'll barf my head off."

I playfully swiped my finger through the coffee grounds/ hot sauce glop and smeared it on the front of his white button-down shirt.
True to his word, he vomited violently and his head came off and landed in the center of the table, facing away.
His body fell onto the floor, convulsing, as he continued vomiting out of the hole where his head had been. The hole looked like a toothless, old man mouth, all tiny and shriveled.
Everyone else stopped eating and stared, but stayed in their seats. I grabbed a bar rag and ran over to Joey, but instead of cleaning up the vomit, I began dabbing at the stain I had created on his shirt.
Eventually, he stopped vomiting out of his neck, and I helped him stand up. He began reaching for his head, but couldn't see it. Fumbling around, he was knocking people's drinks over. They were grabbing their plates and holding them up and away, while others tossed napkins onto the spills.

"Joey, let me help you."

"No, I got it" his head replied, still facing away.

"Let me help you! I can help you. It's all my fault, anyway. You gave me fair warning that you'd barf your head off, and I put that stuff on you."

"I'm okay. Shit happens. It's okay."

He put his head back on, and sat back down in his seat, picked up his fork, and went on eating his dinner. Conversation resumed, and it was a good time.

Then I woke up.
Now, what on earth does this dream mean??