Tuesday, June 18, 2013

on tour with the couch stealers

i would say this dream is weird but they are all pretty damn weird.

i was on tour, solo acoustic. DIY style. the opening 'band' was chris bowser, jeff kaleth and marshall kreeb, among others. they had a handful of teenage kids doing their roadie work. we played one of our first shows at some soup kitchen place. i was surrounded by fans but saw jeff and chris carrying a couch out of a doorway while everyone was preoccupied. i ran over and asked them what they were doing, very concerned.

"did she ask you to move that? why are you taking the couch? why aren't you answering me? what the fuck dudes?"

they just giggled like 5 year olds. when they finally got it outside jeff admitted no one gave any permission and we had the kids move it back.

the next show we played was at a battered women's shelter. i had just finished my set and i see them carrying something off at the back of the club, smiling and laughing. i'm too busy getting paid to deal with it. eventually i sneak a peek into their second trailer (towed behind the first) and they have two stolen couches from the shelter stacked on top of each other. they brought an extra trailer just to steal couches!

that evening we're all crashing in some hotel room, spread out on the floor. everyone has a sleeping bag and a sack of mcdonalds food. i finally tell the guys:

"look, i'm serious. if you steal one more couch, i will never play another show with you guys, ever. it's stupid."

just smiles, looking at each other and busting into fits of uncontrollable laughter. nobody is taking me seriously at all.

"did you guys even hear me?"

at this point one of the teen roadies, who had apparently been doing shots, starts throwing up in my mcdonalds sack. i start getting shittier and shittier about the couch stealing, to the point where i forget he puked in there. finally, i am about to make a dramatic exit and i reach in and pull out a handful of salad smothered in thousand island dressing (which i hate) and stuff it in my mouth. i can taste the salad, it's warm and gross. i chew it really slow and deliberately. ok, i have a mouthful of salad now... what's going to happen? for a second i think i am eating vomit but then i realize he actually threw up in a different sack. (?)

i leave the room to go to my wife's room. she's flown in from somewhere and staying in the 'extra security' suites. the hotel is like a giant entertainment resort, part theme park, part casino, part ghetto. i get a ride across the grounds in a golf cart and it still takes forever. i climb up the side of a scaffold and jump into a balcony. there's an empty keystone light cardboard box and cigarette butts along with a lawn chair. wrong room. i open the door and there's a meth-head looking dude in there playing video games on a small tv.

"WHOOR YOO?" he slurs, half awake.
"wrong room, sorry buddy" i reply as i exit through the front door like a ninja.

i make my way across level after level of parking garage. just when i can't believe how long it's taking, i come to a main hub. there, encased in a huge glass-covered room are three elevator shafts. each one is like a giant silver tube going up and down. i get inside the room and i see other stairs going off at various angles. people are coming and going. i see someone go up to the center elevator. the door is framed in a giant, red, pulsing light. someone holds up a key fob and the door opens. i remember barbie had given me two key fobs, one for the main elevator and one for the extra security zone. i fish around in my pocket and finally get the elevator ride i need.

when i get to the room, i start complaining about the couch stealing band and how they didn't even give a shit. then it fades out and i can't remember anything else.

the end?

Monday, June 17, 2013

murder, manatees & hound dog on a street sign

this morning i had a sickening, endless run-on nightmare. i am sure it would have gone on for hours (lifetimes, in dream speak) if i hadn't gotten out of bed.

there was a little old lady with a round face, curly white hair and many wrinkles under her giant glasses. her shabby clothes didn't conceal her chubby little figure. her and her husband (who was also wrinkly, balding, chubby and white haired) lived in squalor in a small one bedroom. everything in the apartment was old and hand-me-down. somehow the lady was me but not me. there was a sickening feeling of dread and extreme poverty. somehow myself and my wife were in a restaurant with the couple. there were glass windows and it was a scummy diner. the flourescent lights were oddly dim and everything was cast in a gray and orange tint...  we ordered the buffet and ate with trepidation and worry, but chatted with them like we were fine. after we finished the owner of the diner realized the old lady was going to pay with her expired credit card and they had swindled him before. so he locked the door and was going to kill us all. we were trying to get out, pushing on the glass while he went to get an axe. i didn't see the killing, but i felt the fear and sickness and faded out.

next i was back at the old lady's apartment. my cousin chuck was my brother in this sequence, and i had another brother i didn't recognize. we were the children of the old couple. they weren't home yet, but we were preparing to murder them when they returned. we had trip wires and knives. the unknown brother had some hedging shears. he was going to slide down a wire into their faces. then he would jump out and cut their heads off. i was frightened but i was implicit in plot. it was some sort of revenge that i couldn't figure out, but i definitely wasn't trying to change the outcome. this settting up of weapons seemed to take forever before i faded out.

then we were in some future dystopia, thousands of years ahead. the old lady and old man were there, but they were younger. i was their son. there were large angular moats surrounding giant pyramidal buildings. the moats were filled with manatees. our family was poor and starving. we were on a raft, looking to catch and eat a manatee. i was unaware of what was happening until the old man pulled up a baby manatee from the water onto the raft. when i objected and the old man explained to me that we had to eat to survive and this was the only way. my consciousness zoomed out in a fast motion and i finally woke up.

a few days ago i had this less depressing dream:

the band was on tour. we were driving across the beautiful mountains of indiana (in an alternate reality, apparently) and cincinnati was off to our southwest. this didn't make sense to me and i tried to tell the guys that the map was wrong but everyone looked at me like i was from another dimension. eventually we stopped to get some work done on the van. there were mountains all around. next to the shop was a guitar store. i took my acoustic in there because i needed to get new strings or something. the shop owner looked at it while i waited. he finally returned and told me i needed new everything on it. new headstock, new strings, new neck, new whatever... this enraged me and i told him it didn't need anything and it was fine just how it was. the argument escalated and we were back in the garage, which was now my childhood home garage. i told the shop owner i didn't need any new strings, or a guitar for that matter. i picked up a Do Not Enter sign off the floor and hoisted it under my arms like a guitar and started playing 'hound dog' by elvis presley. even though there were no strings, i was able to make the sign sound like a guitar by using my fingers to hold down the chord progression. i was into it and singing and not believing it at the same time. i think i sat there after all the dream characters faded away and marveled at how awesome that was, then tried to figure out how i pulled it off. eventually i woke up in a good mood

the end?

Thursday, June 13, 2013

gay white house chef - cut my hair

had a dream the other day that a friend, who was a gay chef at the white house who looked like brad nowell from sublime, was fired for making out with his boyfriend on white house grounds, during an event for kids. i was trying to convince him to sue the government for discriminating against him.

then this morning i had a dream i was in a big castle made out of ice, and somehow decided to cut all my hair off with one big pair of scissors. it left me with a ridiculous angled bowl cut. immediately i was picking it up off the floor and regretting it, until a voice told me i was only dreaming. i sighed a sigh of relief and went back into the dream. but that's all i remember.

Friday, June 7, 2013

mitt romney van halen christmas presents pool party & more

my dreams have been getting very annoying lately. this morning's gem: 

i was at a pool party for mitt romney. we congratulated him for some unknown reason (not being president?) and someone brought in a massive box of christmas presents sent to him by his 'fans'. we got to open them (in case they blew up). later there was a concert in the backyard by van halen (no hagar or wolfie) and they were using these elevated light poles that had little seats on them. out of nowhere, a local cover band, angry they didn't get the pool party gig, showed up one by one, naked, and took the stage. i was videotaping the crowd to get their reactions and refused to turn around. someone said the lead guitarist was 'excited'. people were pointing. out of the corner of my eye, i saw eddie van halen come down from the light pole tower to fight him and his boner. the end?

yesterday's dream was very upsetting:

chad had inherited an entire warehouse of vinyl records. there were rows and rows in there, with shelves 12 feet high filled with LPs, old and new. for some reason, when he got the news he new there were too many records for him to keep them all, so he decided to share them. (yeah, right) at that moment, a guy i don't really care for (we'll call him moochy) came up next to where i happened to be standing, and chad said we both would share the records with him. then we're in the warehouse, chad is gleefully calling people to let them know, and i'm stuck in there with moochy. moochy tells me he's taking 3/4 of the area and insists that is fair. i protest and can't believe that i am stuck in the situation with such a bum. so moochy goes down the rows to look for his favorite underground releases and i start grabbing records and moving them to my 1/4 of the space. i stumbled on a sabbath LP boxed set, but there were two of them, so i left one for him. the entire time i am cursing moochy and his moochy ways and grumbling about this shitty situation. the end?

monday's dream is already slipping from memory, here's what i emailed myself about it using my phone:

Drunk driving after going thru garage full of cool stuff, figures maps print etc

We went to this party where always people were in this house was
dilapidated and need to fix up the house a was crazy stuccoed walls, with
deep incision in them, weird floors and hanging out it was like a
tennis castle weirdness

Some sort them were money-laundering gone and I remember another connection
to the crime show the can't remember here Rachel's house

the dreams i had in costa rica were also weird, as usual. i wrote some of them down:

one dream i was in my childhood home, in the garage, and the Today Show's Savannah Guthrie was crying, wanted to get back together. i had to convince her she had the wrong guy, as i was married and she is engaged.

another dream really freaked me out. all i can remember was i was talking to a person and they shapeshifted into a different person *but were really the same person*. as i got over my shock they shapeshifted into a different person, a tv newscaster and instead of talking to them, i was merely watching them on tv. i woke up feeling pretty confused and upset.

another dream was inspired by the hot & humid conditions. i was trying to sleep in a tent cabin and was sweating so bad i had to flip from side to side over and over. the dream flowed out of that, each time i flipped over i was doing the opposite side of a mexican businessman's accounting ledger. one side was making money, the other was losing money. it seemed to go on forever (and i hate math).

by far the weirdest dream i had in costa rica involved me joining a black metal band. the band was a tribute band, because some other black metal band had been stabbed to death by a different black metal band. all the band names were full of consonants, like GGRRKKIK and AKKIRRRK. i remember watching one band's video and it was pretty gnarly, with dirt and mud mixed into their silver corpsepaint *a nod to ace frehley?*. anyway, the two bands were on tour and someone insulted someone else over loving satan and then they stabbed them all to death. the tribute band featured myself and glenn danzig on vocals. i don't think we ever actually did a show cause i finally woke up. 

the end?