buddy buddy w trump

Nov 26, 2013 10:18am had a dream I was buddy buddy w Donald trump, and asked him if my friend Keith Bergman could get free nights at the trump related hotels while traveling around the country doing stand-up... But trump said "no way" cause Keith allegedly did a trump bit in his act. hohoho

johnny cash's weird, clown horror house in gas city

so this morning's weirdo dream: 

i was riding in a pickup truck with a high school friend. we were driving through gas city indiana, but it looked like a war zone. or detroit. rows of empty houses and urban blight. some houses were just frames.

as we drove along i saw a row of really tall houses. one was tall like a church but it had a room built on top of a spire, and it went out to the left. against the laws of physics and good architecture. i had my friend stop the truck so i could get a photo of it with my phone.

once i got out i noticed all the tall trees around it. none of them had any leaves. the street was just dried dirt. as i'm moving to get a better shot i realize that the house has a large tree running through the center of it that i hadn't noticed. it appears to be supporting the house all the way up to the top spire and weird room.

 then the dream shifts and now i'm a different person, with a family. there are a bunch of kids getting out of the car to look at the same house and i am telling them to stay together. as we get closer to the house i am telling everyone the house has a name, like the 'wilson house' or the 'fountain ace house' but i can't remember.


it dawns on me that i am showing the house to this family, and i am warning the kids to stay away because the house is haunted and it's not safe. and also that johnny cash is the person who owns the house, although he is angry with me for wanting to show it. he specifically told me not to show the house because of the evil that lurks inside.

i lead the kids around to the side of the house, they want to get in and explore. on that side of the house is a large garage door that is covered in clown lights, just like the circus circus sign in las vegas. apparently the house was used for a horror movie involving clowns. eventually johnny cash pulls up, and boy is he angry.
 
the end?

little healer cry - locked in the printer room

This morning's dream: 

we were at some psychic gathering, there were large polished minerals on a glass table. people were crowding around. i saw a 'for sale or trade' sticker on one white marble looking stone. suddenly a little person nudged me. she had light brown feathered hair and a maroon shirt. brown pants. she said she was a healer. i said "heal me" and she grabbed my sides and put her head against me. for a few moments we stood there. then she stepped back and asked if i felt better. i didn't really but i told her i did. my wife and i started to walk away and she smiled. i looked back a few seconds later and the woman was holding her head and crying.

now i'm alone in a room with a bunch of expensive looking printers. one is the size of a car. it's dimly lit. a man comes in and i'm surprised to see him. he is here to do the repair. he presses a button and the top half of the giant printer moves up and creates an opening. he leans in and does some fixing with his tools. i retreat to a smaller room. the man finally leaves and the door locks behind him. i have a cot in the small room and a small radio. it's like i'm waiting for something. suddenly on the radio there is a break in the static and a voice says there are tornadoes outside of Cincinnati. another voice breaks in and corrects the first voice, saying it's south of Cincinnati. the first voice comes back and says "Kentucky, whatever". then a different voice breaks in and says "Tornadoes in Carmel Indiana!" and the lights go out. i'm in pitch blackness. i realize the doors are electronically locked and no one is going to find me. i'm going to starve to death. the fear wakes me up.
 

bits and pieces

I've had bits and pieces of dreams recently, but they are fleeting. Sometimes when i wake up the dream is right there and i make a mental note to type up as much as i can remember. But later, when it occurs to me that i forgot, the mental note is completely disintegrated, and i'm lucky if i can remember anything.

that being said, this week i had a few dreams that are partially intact. there was one where the band was employed by Prince and we had to record black metal songs as he saw fit.

this morning, or maybe yesterday morning, there was something about having (or finding) a huge stash of old 45rpm singles. there were literally boxes and boxes of them. some of them were priceless and i wanted to sort through them, but my wife wanted me to throw them out.

another dream involved a government mandated evacuation of our area (yet it wasn't my recognizable area) and after rounding up 7 kids (!!) that i don't have, i found myself trying to find which books i wanted to bring, then realizing i hadn't packed up all the animals. and we didn't have enough animal carriers for all of them. at some point i screamed that i didn't believe in the fake government catastrophe and would stay here and die with my animals if that came to be. frustrating to say the least.

there was one other dream that had some scenario that i can't even remember now... except the anguish of being stuck in this frustrating scene that never ended. it was like i kept coming back to the same spot and couldn't find a resolution. and that felt like it went on for hours and hours. i can clearly remember that feeling but not the scenario or setting. weird.

miami cop at the casino w bruno mars

Sep 13, 2013 11:16am had a dream i was a miami cop and my cop partner and i went to the casino with bruno mars (and i had to loan him some gambling monies)

heavy metal video shoot

this morning's dream was disturbing.

i was shooting a music video, for an unnamed metal band. we did an open casting call and had 3 or 4 film crews show up as well. in a big greyish blue, 'haunted house' themed room, there were about 40 or 50 metalheads surrounding the 'band' (which i couldn't see). one of the film crew guys took over and started yelling directions. the music started and everyone was pumping their fists and raging into the cameras. then the violence started. i can't tell if they were fighting or stabbing one another, but when the guy yelled "cut!" everyone was fine. there was a brief period where people stood around while the footage from each film crew was reviewed. then someone dismissed all the film crews except the one with the best footage. except this someone was also in that film crew. it was also at this time the rest of the film crews found out they wouldn't be compensated for their time. they packed their gear and left. i wanted to at least see what footage they had, but things were already moving on without me.

they started shooting some b-roll shots. everyone was cleared out of the room except a sword wielding ninja-metal guy. tape is rolling and sword ninja is going bonkers, slashing everything. his big finale was slicing the back wall in half from the top down. when he did, he also split a face in half that was just behind the drywall. it came forward and got stuck as blood oozed out. everyone freaked. but was it real? i was sure it was a fan hiding in the set but later convinced myself it was a prop.

a bunch more stuff happened in that sequence that i can't remember.

later i was sitting on a concrete porch of a house next to a gas station. there were about 8 'mourners' dressed in robes with hoods outside in the grass. a friend came up and asked what they were doing here. i told them they were in mourning and had been here for days, maybe weeks. he said so and so died a few years ago and left in disgust.

the end?

the shopping mall band feat. biz markie

this morning i had a dream i was stealing dinnerware from a Shoneys type restaurant. i was dressed like i worked there, jamming silverware in my apron, filling a cart with glasses, pitchers, whatever, and rolling them out to the parking lot.

later, i met lara spencer from good morning america at the shopping mall. she seemed to be strung out and you could tell she'd been crying. she had a sad story about being dumped repeatedly so i felt sorry for her. later we became an item.

at some point she aged 40 years and we started a band to make a living (all in the shopping mall). the band wasn't making any money but we ran into biz markie who was also looking for a gig, so we asked him to join. the three of us played in front of the fountain at the mall, 24-7. hoping to catch the pennies people were using for wishes, i think.

the end?

every band needs an underground bunker in the woods

dream this morning:

there's a conversation about rain barrels and we're near some cleared farm land. we take a ride deep into the woods on a dirt road. the woods look very much like the ones behind my childhood home. after a while we come to a nondescript black structure that looks like it's made out of solid graphite. i can't see a roof. it's about the size of a small garage.

inside is an elevator that goes down four stories into the earth. there's some popular rock band who took their millions and built it. they are a bunch of professional skaters. they sound like Minus the Bear or whatever that style is called. it's part fallout shelter, part underground fortress and part rehearsal space. everything is flat black and coated with metal or marble. they tell me it's a 'long term construction' and 'friends can come over'.

on the second level down we stop. one of the guys in the band tells me he's been working on this 'sculpture' which is actually a carving into a wall between two elevators. it looks like he started with one thing and then changed his mind. he's asking my opinion. should it be a cartoonish image of a guy chugging a beer? i tell him 'i guess so?' but deep down i think it looks really dumb. i think one of the guys in the band was a huge drug addict (and is dead or off in rehab) and maybe the first version was him shooting up or something, then they modified the sculpture to be about drinking too much. either way it sucks.

we go down to the bottom level. there's an 'underground metal' show going on (pun intended?). i think it's a noisy metalcore band called Basilisk. it's so packed the crowd is halfway up the emergency stairs. i decide to wait until it's over. i run into some Coffinworm dudes and we're talking about how every band needs an underground fortress.

finally the noisy band is done and people are taking the elevators. the crowd thins so i go down the stairs and Monster Magnet is setting up. nobody in this crowd knows who they are, and those that do don't even care. i'm waiting for them to start jamming out in this underground bunker and it gets really cold. it's so cold i think there must be a ghost sucking the energy out of the room. as i turn to mention the ghostly cold to someone, i realize i am in bed, sleeping. my arm is hanging over the ice cold air blowing from a vent . then i'm awake and i can't get back to the bunker. show goes on without me. fak.

the end?

george takei as jane roberts?

Jul 17, 2013 9:38am so i had a dream they were making a big budget movie about the seth material and i was going to be in it, but george takei was playing jane.

the mad scientist wants to live

i had a dream that i was a mad scientist who looked exactly like david bowie. my main focus was research on the undead. i had done very bad things in studying them and may have killed some people in order to watch them turn (although that is based purely on the overwhelming guilt i felt). 

there was a bunch of them in my basement and somehow they had escaped their cages. in the melee, i was attacked and bitten. my strange looking (ann coulter?) scientist wife and i may have unwittingly released the undead on the city. we were on the run. we ended up in an abandoned school bus, tending to our wounds. i decided to take the suicide pills. 

my wife left. (to get help?) i lay bleeding in a fevered state in the back of the school bus... waiting to die. consciousness faded in and out. shifting between reincarnational existences. one was myself yet not myself in a different time, a different band. another one i was black and in prison. i faded to myself in bed, still not clarifying that it was a dream. the focus shifted back to the scientist in the bus.

i was remembering now, memories of the scientist. there was a large open park with hills and ponds. a small bike path ran through it. i was on my  bicycle riding through, and near the end of the trail there was a small house. i saw a pile of sunflower plants and decided to steal them. but it was nearly impossible to ride the bike and carry them all.

i wake up on the bus and my wife is there. i tell her i don't want to die, i think i can survive the suicide pills. i feel terrible though. weak and sick. she looks at me like i'm already dead. like she's already moved on. but my survival instincts are kicking in, i'm going to make it. although i will probably end up on the run for the rest of my life.

then i wake up in my own bed, feeling awful. feeling like i carried the effect of the pills into this life. 'i don't wanna die from a dream pill' i think to myself. 'no one will know what happened... uhhh' and then i wrote down the dream and went back to sleep.

the end?   
 

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?

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?

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.