Today I plan to create the longest entry ever seen in my LJ. This is not an easy plan. In order to achieve my dream, I am going to need your help.
Every one of you who comments today, I will edit this post with a five to ten sentence(never exceeding ten) dream I had about you. It will be 100% true, because I never lie on the internet.
So, if you’re reading this, please comment and make my dream come true. Because MLK, Jr.’s never will.
Do you use lotion on your hands?
What about anywhere else?
On your way home from work and/or school?
With a homeless person?
In the backseat of a Chevy Nova station wagon?
With your seatbelt on?
And the heat cranked up to 105 F?
Rate the aforementioned sexual situation
I didn't even know you were talking about sex
This worked out well
You look like you, only you're wearing a top hat and your face is painted in blackface. You're sitting on a porch somewhere and I'm searching through this bag I have with me and it's like the thing is bottomless. Finally I find this bottle of 151 and I try to get you to drink some. You keep saying no, no and holding your hands up in protest. I get fed up and take a drink and it burns so bad I start throwing up all over your shoes. You tell me to shine em or you're going home.
You ever see that one part in Drunken Master where Jackie Chan has to balance all that shit on his knees and keep his arms out otherwise he'll sit on that sharp stick? My dream was like that, only you were Jackie Chan. And the stick was a huge-ass knife. And I was standing really close to you and threatening to push you on the knife. I don't think a fifth sentence is really necessary.
We were at karaoke and you kept making me sing Prince songs, even though I sucked really bad and kept messing up. I think we were drunk, but I'm not sure. We were definitely drinking. Then your boyfriend showed up, but your boyfriend was Hulk Hogan in his yellow Wrestlemania tights. He kept asking if I was a Hulkamaniac and threatening to beat me up. This was after we stopped singing Prince songs, but before he kicked me down the stairs at the bar.
We were riding on a magic carpet, but it was like a sitcom and you'd drawn a line down the middle of it and told me to stay on my side until we got to where we were going. I didn't know why you wanted me to stay on my side so bad and you wouldn't tell me. Then I started wondering where we were going and you told me Egypt because all I ever did was complain that I'd never seen the pyramids before. For some reason this made me very happy.
You still looked like you, but you were a robot. We were walking down a long street with a lot of street lights, but no buildings or cars and I couldn't see how far we'd gone or how far it was until we got where we were going. You kept trying to talk to me in that metal gurgle howl voice and peeling back your skin to show me the robot parts under your arm. I asked what it's like being a robot. You told me it's all right, but you kinda miss being able to feel stuff.
I was looking at the computer and suddenly your picture popped up and it was like a Japanese horror movie. You told me that I was going to die the second I stopped looking at the computer or fell asleep. I couldn't move. And as soon as you said that I had to piss really badly and at the same time I was very tired. I couldn't keep my eyes open. I tried really hard, staring at pictures all the time but it just wasn't working. As I started to fall asleep my last thought was, "Well, at least I didn't piss myself before I died."
Continuing an ongoing theme of alcoholic dreams, we were in a house I've never been to before. Apparently it was your house, because I didn't seem confused and never asked you where we were. You were making some drinks and kept putting in all kinds of ingredients I didn't even recognize. One looked like chocolate syrup but you called it something else, shredded cheese was another one(cheddar, I think), and some more stuff I don't remember. Then you dumped a bottle of gin in it and blended it up. It was all lumpy but you said, "I know it looks gross, but trust me, you'll love it" and I drank it and it tasted like Reese's Peanut Butter cups.
You were over at my house only either my house was smaller or you were even bigger than normal because you had to duck even when you were just standing and this fact was really annoying you. You were already annoyed because you wanted to your bottle opener back and I was searching everywhere trying to find it, throwing things around, digging in boxes I didn't even know I had. Then you took out a cigar and asked if I minded if you smoked. I kinda did, but I said no cause I didn't want to make you more mad. So you started smoking and pacing back and forth, watching me look everywhere for the bottle opener. I woke up before I found it.
We were in prison, like in old movies with black and white striped shirts and pants and those striped prison hats and we were chained together by the foot. We were breaking bricks with sledgehammers and trying to name every album we'd ever heard before. I think we'd exhausted every other topic, so this was all we had. We alternated back and forth, while the one person was hitting the other would say an album. It went on over and over like that until a guard told us we were being insubordinate and shot you. They wouldn't unchain us and they called lunch so I had to pick up your dead body and drag it with me to the mess hall.
It probably mostly has to do with your icon, but in my dream we were at a baseball game. You were eating the longest hot dog I have ever seen in my life. I kept telling you you should break it apart, but you insisted on holding the whole thing. It sagged in the middle. Oh, and it wasn't any real baseball team cause all the players were hot Japanese girls. Hot girls with sticks and balls, giant hot dogs, I think this was the most phallic dream I have ever had. Dreaming of you exposes my love for the penis.
This was back when you still lived in San Francisco. We were hanging out and there was some kind of parade going on. I think it was an S & M parade. All kinds of people were half-naked and walking around in bondage gear. I suggested we check it out, but you weren't really interested. But you went anyway. You were relieved when we saw a cop walking around, cause you knew shit couldn't get too out of hand. But then it was like a movie and the crowd slowly parted and we could see he was naked from the waist down - and masturbating. You asked if we could leave and I said, yeah, okay, this isn't as cool as I thought it'd be anyway.
More icon-related dreaming. Everything was animated and you, of course, looked like that clock guy. We were trying to come up with a good plan to rob a bank without getting caught by Batman. You didn't have your time-altering powers so we had to do things the old-fashioned way. So we made it down to the bank and I was nervous. You could tell I was so you kept telling me, keep going, don't fuck up or I'll shoot you. I asked the lady, who was pretty for a cartoon character, if I could please have all the money and I pointed my gun at her. Apparently our plan wasn't very complicated. She pressed a button that was like a Batman button and the alarm went off. I couldn't shoot her, so you had to and we ran, you pretty much dragging me, but Batman dropped down right in front of us and you tried to shoot me before I woke up.
Sorry but this one is actually really boring. We were just sitting there at a bar and I was like, "Hey, could you pass me that beer?" and you grabbed the bottle and handed it to me. "Thanks," I said. You nodded. "Yeah, no problem." Then I drank some and it tasted like milk.
We were watching this movie in a theatre and it was slow, like maybe Tarkovsky maybe. And I could tell you were really into it, but for some reason I wasn't feeling it at all and I kept trying to talk to you about what we were gonna do afterwards(I think there was a party going on). You kept telling me to shhh but I wasn't listening. Then I tried to ask you if this girl we knew(non-existant in real life) liked me. You told me to just shut up and then stood up and changed seats.
We were at a metal show, I have no idea who the band was but you were headbanging and your hair was flying all over the place. And then they finished their set and everyone bum rushed the stage and started hitting the band and stealing their instruments. We snuck out as fast as we could but then there were cops everywhere outside arresting people. You did one of those jump slides across the front hood of a cop car and I jumped and ran up and over another one. We dashed into some bushes and were suddenly deep in some woods. There was a bear sitting by a fire and he tried to offer us some moonshine. You thought it was a good idea, but I kept trying to say, "No, you shouldn't, you don't drink." Then the cops showed up again.
We were riding one of those two person bicycles. I was in the back and kept trying to shout things at you but you couldn't hear me. You kept turning your head slightly and shouting, "What?!" but no matter how loud I shouted you couldn't hear a word of it. I wanted to know where we were going. Then we were in a race all of the sudden. I started peddling as hard as I could and you were peddling even faster. You yelled, "Pedal faster!" at me. I shouted, "I'm trying." You shouted, "What?!" Some little kid who looked like Eddie Munster and I guess his dad who looked kinda like my dad got past us and they were just about to beat us when I woke up.
I had to go to the dentist because all my teeth were ready to fall out and I was supposed to get some new treatment that was like a special kind of glue to hold all my teeth in. I waited what felt like forever in the dentist's office, and then finally they called me in. I was nervous and my hands were sweaty. You were the dentist and you sat me down in the chair and told me, "All right, there's been a change of plan. Instead of using that glue treatment I'm gonna have to knock all your teeth out and replace em with new ones." While I was busy paying attention to what you said I didn't realize the assistant was strapping my arms and legs to the chair. You put on a mask and took out a drill that was just a power drill and held it up and said, "This won't hurt a bit, I promise!" but I wouldn't open my mouth so you started drilling through my lips.
I was working in an office building. I had on a suit and tie and my hair was short and everything. I was a file clerk and I was busy filing all these forms and things when you came up to me and handed me a black medical bag. "Don't look inside it," you said; "Just put all this shit down and I'm gonna walk this way and you're gonna walk the other way and you're gonna get in a blue car sitting in front of the office. Once you're in the car you can open the bag but don't say anything to the driver." You started walking away and I walked the other way and got in the car and when I looked at the driver it was you again and I said, "Hey I thought you went the other way" while I'm opening the bag and the bag has my head in it and I look up and notice we're driving straight towards a wall.
I had this one back in November after the infamous comment bomb entry and this is totally gay but here goes. We're the Three Ninjas. You and me and some other guy I didn't recognize but wasn't the kid from the movie. I'm Colt and you're Rocky, but we look like us. We're all practicing kicking the stuffed guy to light up the eyes but then the kid who I guess is Tum Tum keeps kicking him in the nuts over and over again and eventually it comes to life. It punches him in the face and his head explodes. We have to fight it to avenge our brother so you kick it in the kneecaps and I jump up and kick it in the neck. It goes down, but not for very long and it's actually starting to kick our asses but then Charles Bronson shows up and shoots it with a shotgun and we're all saved hooray. Fuck I wrote this all in present-tense again.
We were walking in the desert and the sun was shining really bright. But for some reason we were all bundled up in giant coats with fur hoods and snow shoes. I kept bitching about how cold it was and you kept agreeing with me. I could see my breath. You asked me if I wanted some water and I said, "No, the shit's too cold" and you said, "Really? It's warming me up." I said, "All right give me some of that" and took the bottle. I popped the top, poured some in my mouth and it felt like it was freezing my tongue. I spit it out on the ground. "What're you doing, you're wasting it!" you said and took the bottle back.
Sorry my dream is not as exciting as yours is. In this one you somehow got ahold of my LJ password and kept updating over and over again. Sometimes each post only had one sentence and I started going through trying to delete them all but it wouldn't let me and I found out you'd changed my password. So all I could do was sit there and keep pressing refresh over and over again and there was always a new post. And the whole time all I could think was "Man, everyone on my friends page is gonna think I'm such a dick."
I must admit that I have never had a dream about you. I'm very sorry to disappoint you. I could make one up if you want me to. I'm not sure how good it'll be, but you know, I can try.
For some reason you get the privelege of being in my single LJ-related zombie dream. Everything is black and white like in Night of the Living Dead and we're all inside the office of this car dealership. There's one window but the zombies can't break it cause it's bulletproof or plexiglass or something and they're out all over the place. There's a bunch of us in here, like eight or nine and there's no food. We don't have any weapons so someone decides we have to draw straws who will go out and try to distract them so everyone else can try to get somewhere with food. I draw the short straw and I get frantic and keep saying no no no no no and you're like, "Hey, it's all good man. Take this" and you hand me a steak knife. I keep saying no no no no until this big guy takes the knife and calls me a fucking pussy and opens the door and runs out. Everyone else looks really angry at me as they slip out the door and some other guy says "Don't fucking try to come with us" and you're the last one to leave and you say, "Sorry, man."
It's a huge barbeque and my whole family is there. And you. You've got a chef hat on and an apron that says "Cooks Make Better Lovers" and you're grilling up hamburgers. You're very insistent that they're not beef hamburgers but rather turkey burgers. "You'll swear you can't tell the difference," you say. I try to explain that I don't even like burgers and you get a little huffy. "Well, just eat a damn patty then." You've got your back to the grill and I don't know how it happens for sure but suddenly your whole back is on fire and you're running around and people keep telling you to roll on the ground but you're not listening. At first I don't feel too bad, because you were being such a dick about it. But then I see how much pain you're in as you finally start rolling around the ground and I start feeling bad about not feeling bad.
We're driving around and it's the middle of the night and we run out of gas up on the top of a hill. You suggest we just push the car a little bit and then we can coast all the way down the hill and hopefully that'll get us closer to a gas station where we can get some more gas. We get out and start pushing and it's going good. It's pretty scary, cause but we both manage to hop in and close the doors. It's exciting, cruising down the hill trying to brake as little as possible. We blow through a stop sign and then a stop light. We're almost to the bottom of the hill when a deer comes running out in front of us. The car nails it and it's up on the hood and then into the windshield and I can't see where we're going so I slam on the brakes. We stop and get out and we're right in front of a 76 station and the guy working there looks at us and says, "That's one helluva a deer" and you say, "Yeah, yeah it is. How much gas can we get for it?"
It's like we're us, but at the same time we're kids. We're like ten. And we're out in the street playing stickball. Everything looks like old New York from the '70s, how kids are always playing stickball in the Bronx in movies. You're the pitcher and I'm up to bat. "I'm gonna hit you with the ball," I say. "You'll be lucky to even hit the ball," you say. And, of course, you back up your word more than I back up mine. The first ball goes right under the stick and I'm swinging at air. "Haha," you laugh at me. "Shut up, I'm not gonna let no girl strike me out." The second ball is, well, a ball, but I'm so mad I swing at it anyway and totally miss. "You're trying too hard, Andrew," you chastise me. "Just pitch the ball." You throw it and I see it coming and I just smack it as hard as it can and BAM it hits you right in the kneecap. You fall on the ground and at first I'm running towards first but then I see you're crying and I start to walk over there and see if you're okay. When I get there and bend down, "Are you okay?" you grab the ball and tag me and say, "Out, asshole" and stand up and kinda hobble away.
I promise I didn't have a sex dream about you. We weren't in the back of a school bus driven by Tim Curry. There wasn't any funny business going on with ear nibbling or a bunch of kids in uniforms and backpacks watching us. Then we didn't suddenly shift and we were under sheets but floating in space like at the end of Moonraker and it wasn't tough trying to move the sheets around and find out where everything was. And we didn't suddenly enter Earth's orbit and crash down in a pile of misplaced clothes and sheets and blankets when gravity kicked back in. We didn't keep going anyway, even though there was a good chance we could die since nobody was piloting the ship.
We were hitting this kid with some tree branches over and over again and he kept telling us to stop but we were like, haha, fuck you and didn't. We kept doing that for a while until we got tired of it and the kid had pretty much stopped moving. Then we walked off down a street that looked like those old West Hollywood ghost towns and decided to stop in the saloon/brothel. Unfortunately, there was nobody there but this guy with a handlebar mustache behind the bar. He said they didn't have any alcohol, not anymore, but he'd gladly give us a couple of glasses of water. We said forget it, cause there were no girls either and we left. Then some guy with no front teeth came running up to us and told us we should get the hell out of town as soon as possible or find someplace to hide. "There's something unnatural that goes on here at night." "What do you mean, unnatural?" you asked him. And he was just about to answer when I woke up.
We ran into each other at a public restroom. I was washing my hands when you came in. I thought it was real weird, running into you by accident this way. Especially here. I said, "Hey, what's up" and you were like, "Oh hey what's up." Then we left and we were in a mall but it was completely closed and it was the middle of the night. "Well, I gotta get going," you said, but all the doors were locked. Maybe they forgot to lock one, I suggested. And we kept running up and downstairs, through department stores, checking every door but they were all locked. We tried throwing chairs and boxes at them but to no avail. "Well, guess we're stuck here," I said. So we looted the food court and ate a bunch of undercooked teryaki chicken and french fries.
For some reason, even though I know what you look like obviously cause I've seen pictures of you, in my dream you look like Ariel. Only less animated. Still, long red hair and all that shit though. We were in a giant ballroom full of people and I asked you if you wanted to dance. You said, sure that'd be all right, but I'm not very good. I took you by the arm and they were playing something, some waltz, fuck, I had it and now I can't remember what it was. It was kinda brisk-paced. Everybody was up and dancing and you were wearing a black dress and I was wearing a tux but with the bowtie untied. And we started dancing but I kept stepping on your toes and at first you were like, no no, it's okay but I kept doing it and eventually you told me you had to stop dancing cause your feet hurt. I understood, but it was kinda sad.
Everything was blue. Not the same shade, of course, but all different shades of blue. You had light blue skin and dark blue hair and your clothes were so light they were practically white but with just the tiniest hint of blue. Even though this sounds horrible it looked good on you and we were riding in an elevator that kept going up and up and up. Pretty soon all the blue buildings just got smaller and smaller until they weren't even like buildings, but kinda looked like a big picture of the ocean. "It's really pretty here," I said. "Yeah," you said, "You should stay here." And I wished I could, but I knew the elevator was gonna get to my floor soon and I'd have to go back to the world that had all those other colors. "Hey, thanks for riding up here with me, though," I said.
Sorry, but I have to admit I have also never had a dream about you. But hey, we just became LJ friends so you never know, there's hope for everybody.
We're climbing up a giant stairway. Like in A Matter of Life or Death, or, I guess, that dream sequence in The Big Lebowski. You've decided to stop. You're gonna go back down. "Wait, come on, we've come all this way," I say, "We can't even see the bottom anymore." "I don't care anymore. I've had enough." "But we're almost there," I insist. "You don't even know where we're going anymore." "Of course I do." "Whatever man, keep going then." And you start walking down, but I can't decide if I want to go up or back down, so I just sit down and keep looking up then down and seeing you get smaller and smaller.
Not to be the bearer of bad news, but I've never had a dream about you either. Sorry.