jamming with your mom, you were a weirdo in high school

dreams are weird.

this morning's saga involves a group of people i knew in high school who weren't close friends or anything. lydia (not her real name) had called me and asked if i wanted to play in a band with her mom. for whatever reason i said sure.

now i'm at their multi-family house and it's a big, open-kitchen-living room with bright tan counters with white cabinets and walls. there's a high angled ceiling and through the windows and patio doors you can see a large yard with a pool. the dining room table has been moved and they have set up a small stage in its place. lydia's mom is cleaning up the clutter in the kitchen and we're talking about the songs she wants to play. lydia's husband (we'll call him dirk) is going to play drums. great. her dad is there but he's not involved in the 'band'. soon someone is holding a baby next to me with curly blonde hair. i don't know who's kid she is. she'd be a cute baby if her right eye wasn't sticking out so far. someone gently pushes it back in the socket.

we spend an inordinate amount of time talking about what to call the band. dad chimes in but everyone hates his ideas. no one can agree on a name so it never gets decided.

we end up jamming and it is turrrble. i'm trying to help but nothing seems to work. dirk hasn't played drums since the early nineties. everyone knows that it sucks. after a while i have to leave. better luck next time, i say.

flash forward: i'm back at the house, but this time lydia is going to sing instead of her mom. apparently watching her mom roused some sort of competitive thing between them. the dad is still there, he is in a barcalounger with no socks on. surprisingly, dirk isn't playing drums anymore. "he couldn't do it today" she says... but i get the feeling they had a big fight about it and he said 'screw you'. there's another kid there, someone to play bass or guitar. he has cropped blonde hair and is wearing a red and grey striped button up shirt. i think he's 15.

we start playing. it seems like were playing a siouxsie and the banshees song (even though i couldn't tell you what that sounds like in real life). at some point lydia said we had to be punk rock because that's what her kids like. so i took off my pants and underwear and was wearing only a long t-shirt. nevermind that little kids and her mom and dad were all there. i'm just here flapping in the breeze.

the 'practice' goes only marginally better than the previous one with the mom. very quickly i'm starting to get jaded with this project and the no pants thing.

later.... i'm outside loading up my gear (with pants). another friend of lydia's (who also was in our graduating class) has shown up to hang out. i haven't seen her in years.

"oh are you jamming with lydia's mom?"
"actually, lydia was singing today."
"that's cool"
"i haven't seen you since high school, it's been a long time"
"you were a real weirdo in high school"
"sorry, i was pretty confused back then"

after this exciting conversation, i'm back at my house. our car is stuck in the alley, something is wrong with the wheels. i leave the door open and corey and i head off to the bar. when we come back, my crazy neighbor lady is screaming bloody murder. there are cars in front of and in back of my car in the alley, cars parked in her yard, on her slab, they are everywhere. a veritable log jam of cars. the cops had already been called but they are just hanging out. this sends crazy neighbor lady into a spitting rage. we laugh and laugh as we leave.

eventually the other cars are moved and i push our car in front of the house. it's now missing a door. someone had yanked it off and threw it in the trunk.

flash forward to my childhood home. my friend trevor is driving a huge dump truck with 6 giant tractor wheels. he is tearing up the yard and my dad will be pissed. he gets to the barbed-wire fence and just drives right through it, which blows his front left tire. but that doesn't really stop him. he tears up the field beyond. then i wake up.

the end?

gambling blackout, the lady in white, joining the CIA

dream:

at the casino, but no one can find me. i see my concerned friends and wife asking the pit boss if he had seen me, he can't remember. this goes on for a while.

then i'm somewhere in the service area of the casino after going through a door in back of the food court. i end up in a small hallway with many dirt-stained, metal doors. i know there is something bad behind each of these doors, so i get out... fast.

eventually i find everyone and i recount what i remember: i was playing a table game (blackjack?),  getting more and more drunk, and i blacked out. (i feel like i was drugged by someone) i apparently lost more money than i said i had on me (cause i still had $50 in my pocket) and became belligerent. at this point i find there was someone (the tall blonde in white) who bailed me out on my debts. i only know this because she mysteriously left a note in my pocket. the note was vague but it somehow put me in some sort of indentured servitude to the lady in white, a CIA agent.

later there is a tense meeting filled with confusion and denials but i reluctantly become a fledgeling  CIA agent for the lady in white. i'm out there now, hustling people at the casino and drugging them and giving them citations (and worse) and eventually it dawns on me that the entire thing is a ruse and they are still just using these tasks to keep tabs on me! (and she's probably not in the CIA!) i began to plot and scheme on how to get back at them but i can't remember the rest...

right before i woke up, i was telling someone that Coffinworm had to cancel their show at the children's museum because mr britts refused to change the lyrics to happy, kid-related topics.

prison viagra - crazy neighbor lady pops in

so this morning's dream was a little extra weird. the parts that i can remember, anyway. i was in prison. i don't know why or how. but the prison guard lady brought me a viagra, and i was pretty happy about it, but i don't know why. my prison outfit is blue denim and my hair is short and spiky. the bars of the prison are painted lime green.

flash forward and we are being shown some girl's house. she is explaining her small business but i can't remember any of it. just orange walls and black tables. then i'm talking to my mother (not in this life mother) and two daughters (not in this life daughters) and they are asking me for something. i have no idea what or why, but i'm sitting in a towel, having just gotten out of the shower.  a door materializes next to me and someone opens it with a key. my eyes go wide and i can't believe it. my crazy neighbor pops her head in and says "i can't believe you didn't give them the money. harumpf"

what?

herve villechaize sings

to be listened to before bed every night

BEELZEFUZZ "Hardluck Melody"

lost in europe

so yesterday i had a long dream sequence that involved a scavenger hunt (which i hate) and it somehow ended with me ALMOST getting the last items before being attacked by john goodman's eye-patch wearing character from "O' Brother Where Art Thou?", big dan.

today i dreamed we were in europe. we were in a toy store that was a very old converted church. the toys were stacked to the ceiling, all kinds of japanese rare collectibles. i had set my backpack down and when i came back to get it, everything was gone. my passport, my money, my clutch tickets and my H2 recorder were gone also, along with the normal stuff. i remember telling myself it was ok, i could get another recorder, but then i thought of the files i lost. someone came over to see if i was ok. i told them what happened and i looked again and my money and passport were back in the bag.

then i realized i lost my wife somewhere. of course i knew she probably lost me and went back to the hotel, but i didn't remember which train we took and i didn't know the language. for what seemed like a very long time i was wandering around trying to remember where to go, and what to do. i started asking around and someone suggested i take this roller coaster train. i began waiting for the train and generally being worried when i heard my mom's voice. she was below the waiting area in an outdoor restaurant, telling an apparently very funny story to some germans. everything about the train station and restaurant was wrought iron with dark wood planks, benches and steps. she didn't seem surprised to see me, but i was relieved to see her and be able to speak english again.

then i heard my name called out and saw mr. corey webb shopping for records. apparently there was a record store nearby and i went to talk to him. he was trying to convince me to buy this giant book about def leppard and some of these rare vinyl items. after waiting in line we got our def leppard books and european records and walked out front where my wife was waiting. she was pissed.

the end?

left behind, mega-casino & brann's baby carrots

had a dream i was left behind at a gas station on tour. thanks to some friendly truck drivers, i was able to get a ride to the nearest mega-casino. it was big, like the death star. they had the original guns n roses back together doing a residency. i was milling around in the super-mall inside the casino and saw duff mckagan carrying his bass to their practice room. somehow i stumbled into brann dailor (Mastodon was doing a residency too). he seemed under the weather so i gave him a bag of baby carrots. we talked for a while and he gave me tickets to the show. then i was off to find the luckiest slot machine, but i woke up instead.

hills, houses on huge columns, my old jambox, alfredo and kitchen dookie

another weirdo dream... we're on the road, but this time with Mothership. the dudes have booked a show somewhere, and it's hillbilly heaven. with tall, rolling, actual hills. really steep ones. all the houses  are built into these hills using what appears to be ancient roman columns. and depending on the angle of the hill, some of the homes are supported by 50 feet or more of these segmented, giant columns.

"they don't look safe at all" i said.
"they prolly aren't." someone replied.

between the hills with crazy column houses is a low area, with a basketball court and a gravel parking lot. i'm down there on a picnic table hanging out with the Mothership dudes. i am listening to my old school jam box with the cassette player and the Q95 sticker on it. it still has the ink from the marker when i 'customized' it. i don't know what we're listening to but it's time to order some food. i'm told it's ok to leave the jam box playing on the picnic table and am led to the underside of one of these ridiculous houses. someone has set up some card tables and they hired some guy to go pick up food from the Olive Garden.

"i'll have what i always have, fettucine alfredo. big salad." i am really sure about my order, and i appreciate the Michelob light, but i need to use the bathroom. upstairs, in the house, i'm told.

i end up in the kitchen of this house on giant columns on the side of a steep hill... and there is a toilet next to the stove. "i'm not going to shit in there." i say to the kid who lives there. "where do you shit, right here? really?" he kind of frowns and points to a giant basket next to the refrigerator. the basket is full of potato sized, dolly madison starcrunch looking dook.

i decide to get my jambox and leave. then i wake up and have to poo.

the end?

kobayashi's chinese ghosts: worst gig ever

another terrible dream...

dtp is getting geared up for a tour with our friends lo-pan and chris cornell and reverend horton heat. i am packing my personal stuff but i can't decide what to bring, i have movies but there are too many to choose. finally it's time to leave. we get to the venue but i find out we're not playing the first date (why are we there?), it's only chris cornell and jim heath from rev horton heat. before they play i'm talking to chris cornell, who's dressed in a black, elvis style, giant collared shirt, but he's ignoring me. jim heath is very friendly and let's me check out his guitar, which is not actually a guitar but a trombone(?). i pulled it from the case and played it without the mouthpiece (for sanitary reasons?). it sounded like a little kid fart.

fast forward to the next gig. it's just dtp & lo-pan now, and we're playing in what looks like a chinese restaurant owned by professional hot dog eater kobayashi (who is japanese). the floors and tables and chairs are all white. the columns holding the very high ceilings are white. the stage is at the far end, it's about 4 feet tall, and about 50 feet wide, all white. 

after we are set up, rob informs me that he has re-written all his parts and will start playing the new parts at this show. i try to tell him it's not the right time and we should go over the sections if he wants to try new stuff, but he's sure it's going to be fine. 

well, it wasn't fine. no one could properly hear and the songs, all three of them, explode into actual nightmare train wrecks. the kind with the awkward silence and furrowed brows after you stop playing. at some point i start jabber-jawing with the crowd to lighten the mood, but there's only about 10 chinese people eating in there and they are stone faced... and not moving. they are all wearing white. my wife responds to my not funny remarks and there is a back and forth dialogue that somehow manages to make us look even more pathetic.

it's so bad that i leave and am immediately zipped away to a weird suburban neighborhood. i'm driving. i see a guy mowing grass who looks like my uncle paul. i pull in this driveway and walk to the backyard. the guy is gone but the mower is still there, so i start mowing. i'm mowing and thinking and it's sunny and beautiful, but eventually a different guy comes out and asks me what the hell i'm doing there. i'm mowing my uncle's yard, obviously. he says it's his house and no one by that name lives there, and tells me to get lost. so he chases me off. i get in the car and apologize before he attacks me for mowing his lawn.

eventually, i'm back at the chinese restaurant gig. kobayashi is very upset and his band is supposed to play last, apparently he shreds heavy metal guitar solos as well as sucking down hebrew nationals.

i am trying to find out why lo-pan isn't playing. i start searching the place and find a window at the top of a small stairwell. it looks out over a grave that is built up with a japanese shrine. giant steps leading to a glass covered casket. i assume this is why our set turned to garbage, ghosts. they don't like the venue so close to their resting spot.

 i go backstage and everyone is there, smoking heroin out of giant glass pipes. i tell them kobayashi is serious and that the ghosts are possessing people, but no one listens. $2 a hit, they say.

eventually lo-pan is onstage ready to play. i'm feeling good now that the show is going to redeem itself. but it doesn't. the dudes look like they've eaten entire jars of pig tranquilizers. pupils dialated wide and staring into space. nobody is moving except the now visibly angry kobayashi, who tries to start moving their gear.

i decide to save the day. i jump onstage and magically i have a half stack plugged in and i start jamming. and it sounds really good, like slayer playing the grateful dead. except none of those dudes are jamming along, it's just me, my awesome guitar jam bouncing off the high ceiling of a chinese restaurant. kobayashi, jumps onstage and grabs the guitar neck. he's cursing me in japanese. i yell that he didn't tell us about the ghosts. that makes him do a double take. (they know!) but he doesn't believe in them, so it's no excuse for a horrible, horrible show.
 
the end?

finding the baby rabbits in the casino

Apr 16, 2013 8:53am had a dream we were in a massive casino, and i had to find the baby rabbits. they were hidden somewhere and i wasn't having any luck. so i sat down at a massive slot machine and instantly won $60,000. and i actually said, "i'm glad this is real and not a dream, huh huh". everyone was mad that i gave up finding the rabbits.

whiskey is the drink of choice for bodyguards

this morning's grand dream(s)

i was watching a tv show. it was a weird "desperate housewives" type of drama about 4 sex crazed neighbors (three ladies and a guy, all married) who got their rocks off watching each other masturbate. of course i wasn't aware of this at first. the guy was basically stalking and using  binoculars and ended up outside a window or sneaking on the house while his neighbor had her private time. eventually each neighbor somehow got involved and caught each other but instead of surprise or outrage, they laughed and crawled under the blankets together. "seems a bit racy for prime-time" i said to myself.

next i'm in a wood paneled series of rooms before a big party. it feels like the 1960s but the decor and clothing look more like the 1930s. i'm being led around and shown all the art and posters on the walls by my hostess and apparently new best friend (we'll call her Maude) who looks like an even more curvy and voluptuous marilyn monroe. she's wearing a sparkly evening gown with a long jacket over the top, with puffs of fur around the sleeves and neck. i'm excited to be at the party and amazed at the cool statues and old timey furniture but i feel underdressed because i'm from the future. she assures me this is not a problem and laughs as the guests begin to arrive.

guests roll in, celebrity after celebrity, camera flashes going off and posing for pictures, except i have no idea who these people are. all of them are introduced to me by maude. they seem to be interested in asking me about the future but maude keeps dragging me away to meet another one. after a while i realize some of the guests aren't celebrities or press but actual old school gangsters. they have a different look. they're all chain smoking and they all have the same type of hat.

eventually the party kicks into high gear and the main doors appear and are opened. there is a large ballroom with two floors, the upper floor with stairs leading up on each side, everything is stained wood. there are people everywhere, drinking and smoking and looking like dick tracy or betty boop. music seems to be playing and it sounds oldey timey. i think people are dancing downstairs.

maude leads me over to meet her 'man', who looks like another older gangster and who is appropriately named Don. don welcomes me and we clink our drinks together.

eventually i make my way over to a crowded corner of the upstairs. there are stacks and stacks of old comics and magazines, everything in near mint condition. old toys, action figures, an amazing array of incredible items and my eyes go wide. when i say old, i mean brand new, because i'm somewhere in the past. i tell don he should let me take some of these to the future to sell them, but he says "if it were only that easy". then i saw a signed comic by an r. crumb type of artist. when i inquire, i am told the r. crumb artist is actually there at the party and promoting his new line of comics. i want to get a signed copy but i need some air. so i head outside.

out behind the building i realize we are on the end of a wharf. there is a parking garage attached to the side opposite the water. part of the ballroom upper floor includes a deck over the water. i see a row of limos and some gangsters standing around and end up in a conversation with one. eventually he says, "whiskey?"
"sure", i say, as he pours me a glass full.
"whiskey is the drink of choice for bodyguards." he says before downing his glass. the others start to chuckle. somehow i realize by bodyguards he meant assassins and i take my drink down in big gulps.

they get caught up in a conversation and i walk towards the water, i see a dark shape moving towards the men. as it gets closer to the surface i can see it's a man in scuba gear with a harpoon gun. before i can alert the gangsters he shoots one of them with the harpoon and they return some bullets. but it all ends as a big net drops down and wraps him up.

now people are yelling and running. i can't see any cops but i know the party was busted. i'm running back in to find maude and don but i wake up.

i know there was a lot more to the dream but this was all i scribbled in the notebook.

the end?

fish in the garage, floating house trailer

latest dream: was trying to get back to the garage of a high school friend (who we'll call skeeter). skeeter had little aquariums with fish and frogs on shelves in the back by the work bench. i had some fish there, somehow, that i had forgotten or left behind. i needed to get them for some reason. it was life or death.

flash forward. i'm giving a presentation on some  university campus. i'm outside near the bicycle parking. people are gathered around and i am trying to finish quickly because i need to get the fish in my backpack to the garage.

flash forward. i'm in some major home improvement store. i need to get supplies for something and need to get the fish out of my backpack, the container is leaking. jeff martin is there, he insists i take this dust covered book full of record label addresses (which i insist is outdated). but i take it anyway, so he doesn't get angry.

flash forward. i'm in the van and it's after a show. i realize i forgot the fish and check on them, the container is out of water but they are somehow still alive.

flash forward. i'm back in the garage and running to the back. i get the fish into the aquarium but the other fish that i left there look dead. i see his beta's are having a live birth but skeeter is unaware. somehow i accidentally let all the frogs out. i try to catch them but they are everywhere, under the big dark blue van behind me, under the workbench. skeeter tells me not to worry about them.

at some point later i am dreaming another dream. it's night time, we're in the middle of a grassy field with a small river winding through it. there is one spotlight off to the left. hundreds of old people are gathered around and barb and i are mixed in there.

suddenly there is a house trailer floating above the opposite side of the river. a small rope ladder leads up to a door. everyone starts clamoring to get on the ladder. i'm being pushed and pulled from both directions and i start yelling and throwing punches. whoever is at the front can't get the door open and the house trailer floats back and the ladder breaks, but it doesn't fall. i have to turn the ladder into a metal staircase using my mind but first everyone has to get back on the ground. this seems to take forever.

the end?

bot fly larvae & cough medicine

i've been sick as a dog for the past week. then i had this dream this morning.

i was in a kitchen that was different but similar. i took about twice the normal dose of cough medicine because i was feeling so bad. i went to put the pitcher away and when i looked down at my arm, i saw a little worm sticking straight out of it. it looked like the worms you might see when biting into an apple. i grabbed it and pulled it all the way out. the worm was a dull yellow with a black head. it was dead and stiff as a board. on the butt end of it was a clear plastic looking wrap, covering a string of identically round piles of worm dook. about 8 of them. the hole in my arm where the worm had been was pink and deep.

when i went to throw the thing in the trash, i looked at my other arm and there were about 20 of them. all sticking up and out. then i checked under my shirt and there were more. some had been squished when they came out. i was in a mild panic, trying to get to them all. they were starting to fall on teh floor. i knew that the cough medicine had been too much for them. i also knew they were bot flies who never matured but continued to live under my skin after our trip to the amazon.

barb came home but as soon as i tried to tell her about it she held up her hand in my face. "gross! don't even talk about it" the end?


this vide captures how i have been feeling on cough medicine