EllGab - Spite Board
Rikki Gins Lounge => Random Topics => Topic started by: Sofia on July 12, 2018, 09:55:08 AM
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A disembodied male voice said, "Remember that woman who was mowed down at a mall? I'd like to see something like that happen to you. I'm practised at 'remote gets' ".
Then a handsome lithe man in his 20s walked toward me in the kitchen, brandishing a large sharp metal object.
Gee, what a "get" I'd be, lol. That's hilarious. Pick on someone your own size, your own age, your own health, and in your own economic bracket or admit cowardice.
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Neato :).
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My mom and I were shopping. We walked into the store from different directions through the lot and sidewalks. Afterward, I stopped to help a lady in a wheel chair. Mom was annoyed on the way out, thought I was dallying. I didn't take the time to explain, I just hurried to catch up with her. She knew I needed to go get my keys, bag and cat so I could ride with her to her place. Instead of going to my car or home to get my purse and keys, I went to where I knew they were, with my cat, they were down the easement inside my old lidded 6 X 12 chain link kennel on the grass of land owned by the store.
I entered the kennel to get my bag and saw the cat. Couldn't find my keys or bag right away. Three big dogs from an unknown residence down the road entered the kennel magically (since all the doors were closed). I worried for my disabled cat's safety. They didn't seem aggressive so I swallowed my panic and shooed them away. They left. I picked up my cat and her heart was beating fast, but she's a trooper. Her side was swollen like organ trouble, more than usual. I set her down to resume looking for my bag and keys. It was getting dark.
Some lady came and told me my kennel could not stay on the easement. I agreed and said I was leaving and would take it down soon. I was frought that those dogs would come back, and bother or hurt my elderly cat, so I asked a lady to guard the part of the kennel they beamed in through. She was nice, but I still couldn't find my keys or bag. Some other lady came in and tried to mess with my many belongings. I told her to stop because we needed to find my bag and keys. She wouldn't stop messing with stuff that was irrelevant, so I started to bite her arm. She said if I bit her, she would call the cops, so I stopped biting her. I didn't bite her. I woke up.
It was just a dream, so I should have bitten her. I don't think ethics apply in dreams.
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My mom and I were shopping. We walked into the store from different directions through the lot and sidewalks. Afterward, I stopped to help a lady in a wheel chair. Mom was annoyed on the way out, thought I was dallying. I didn't take the time to explain, I just hurried to catch up with her. She knew I needed to go get my keys, bag and cat so I could ride with her to her place. Instead of going to my car or home to get my purse and keys, I went to where I knew they were, with my cat, they were down the easement inside my old lidded 6 X 12 chain link kennel on the grass of land owned by the store.
I entered the kennel to get my bag and saw the cat. Couldn't find my keys or bag right away. Three big dogs from an unknown residence down the road entered the kennel magically (since all the doors were closed). I worried for my disabled cat's safety. They didn't seem aggressive so I swallowed my panic and shooed them away. They left. I picked up my cat and her heart was beating fast, but she's a trooper. Her side was swollen like organ trouble, more than usual. I set her down to resume looking for my bag and keys. It was getting dark.
Some lady came and told me my kennel could not stay on the easement. I agreed and said I was leaving and would take it down soon. I was frought that those dogs would come back, and bother or hurt my elderly cat, so I asked a lady to guard the part of the kennel they beamed in through. She was nice, but I still couldn't find my keys or bag. Some other lady came in and tried to mess with my many belongings. I told her to stop because we needed to find my bag and keys. She wouldn't stop messing with stuff that was irrelevant, so I started to bite her arm. She said if I bit her, she would call the cops, so I stopped biting her. I didn't bite her. I woke up.
It was just a dream, so I should have bitten her. I don't think ethics apply in dreams.
Yes, it was totally OK for you to have bitten the lady and it sounds like you got some good ones in before she threatened you with the cops. That's the nice thing about dreams. You can freely do things that you wouldn't ordinarily get away with in the real (?) world.
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Yes, it was totally OK for you to have bitten the lady and it sounds like you got some good ones in before she threatened you with the cops. That's the nice thing about dreams. You can freely do things that you wouldn't ordinarily get away with in the real (?) world.
I'm glad you understand, Rikki. It might not be Biblical, but it's just pretend!
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I'm glad you understand, Rikki. It might not be Biblical, but it's just pretend!
I know, and yet most of the time I let morals and guilt prevent me from having a real fun time while dreaming.
A couple of nights back, I had four fun dream segments in the middle of the night and I actually thought to myself, now how am I going to remember them? Oh...I know, I'll remember by referring to them as 'elements'...that will surely do the trick! So I went back to sleep and forgot about the dreams until later on, the next day. I remember that I had called them elements instead of segments, but that didn't work. I could only remember the second dream segment. I was back in school and I had to get past a number of teachers in the hallway, so I climbed up to the ceiling and crawled past them by grabbing the overhead lights. I dropped down inside a teacher's room and she was sympathetic to my plight and didn't give me away.
It's too bad really, because dream number three was especially good, but I can't remember anything about it. I know that people will say that I should keep a pad and pencil nearby to record the dreams with. The trouble is, if I were to do such a thing, I'd wake myself up for the rest of the night.
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This dream is for you, so pay the price
Make one dream come true, you only live twice
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I dreamt that I was aboard a bus full of people and as we were riding along, word was received that a number of enemy nuclear missiles had been launched against us. All of the passengers had quite a lively discussion about the horrible occurrence. Apparently, there was still time to make it to our homes, because the driver continued along, stopping every so often to let some passengers off. Eventually, there were only three of us left on the bus. The driver, a beautiful blonde haired woman and myself. We came to a crossroads and the driver flipped out. He opened the doors to the bus and ran off like a shot. I took the wheel and asked the pretty girl where she wanted to go. I drove her to her destination and we both got off the bus. We were standing on a lovely green hill. I tried to recall some of the things that the people were saying on the bus but I couldn't. I tried to picture the people on the bus but they were faceless. I couldn't remember anything because that beautiful blonde was beckoning me into the clover.
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I dreamt that I was aboard a bus full of people and as we were riding along, word was received that a number of enemy nuclear missiles had been launched against us. All of the passengers had quite a lively discussion about the horrible occurrence. Apparently, there was still time to make it to our homes, because the driver continued along, stopping every so often to let some passengers off. Eventually, there were only three of us left on the bus. The driver, a beautiful blonde haired woman and myself. We came to a crossroads and the driver flipped out. He opened the doors to the bus and ran off like a shot. I took the wheel and asked the pretty girl where she wanted to go. I drove her to her destination and we both got off the bus. We were standing on a lovely green hill. I tried to recall some of the things that the people were saying on the bus but I couldn't. I tried to picture the people on the bus but they were faceless. I couldn't remember anything because that beautiful blonde was beckoning me into the clover.
Well that's a cliffhanger there.. Part 2. What Happens Inside The Clover. Stay tuned?
Anybody ever have disorganized travel dreams?
Wake up in another land, can't find passport, where is all my stuff? How am I going to get to the airport and where is my horse?
Stressful travel dreams; the only dreams I ever have for years now. Exhausting. I wake up jetlagged :-\
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Well that's a cliffhanger there.. Part 2. What Happens Inside The Clover. Stay tuned?
Anybody ever have disorganized travel dreams?
Wake up in another land, can't find passport, where is all my stuff? How am I going to get to the airport and where is my horse?
Stressful travel dreams; the only dreams I ever have for years now. Exhausting. I wake up jetlagged :-\
@KSM, let me compliment you on your perceptiveness. Alas, I'm afraid there was no part two to my dream. The offer to have me join her in the clover shocked me so much that I woke up. There have been times when I've had fun dream sex but sadly, this wasn't one of them.
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@KSM, let me compliment you on your perceptiveness. Alas, I'm afraid there was no part two to my dream. The offer to have me join her in the clover shocked me so much that I woke up. There have been times when I've had fun dream sex but sadly, this wasn't one of them.
Well, we can't say with any certainty that she wasn't trying to lead you back to the tribe where you would be eaten for dinner. Just sayin' you may have dodged a hypothetical bullet chomping.
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Well, we can't say with any certainty that she wasn't trying to lead you back to the tribe where you would be eaten for dinner. Just sayin' you may have dodged a hypothetical bullet chomping.
Ha! So true.
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Anybody ever have disorganized travel dreams?
Wake up in another land, can't find passport, where is all my stuff? How am I going to get to the airport and where is my horse?
All. The. Time. I'd no idea it was a common theme of others' dreams, though.
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I had three unrelated dreams the other night.
The first one found me walking around in a local shopping mall. I rode up the escalator to an upper floor and there stood that Sig guy from the crab catching show The Deadliest Catch. He didn't quite look the same, he was kind of bloated looking and his face was somewhat swollen. He was surrounded by some friends who obviously weren't crab fishermen because they were all kind of out of shape looking, too. Still, I wouldn't have minded talking to Sig, but as I walked up to him I fell into the next dream.
I had parked my car on a street some ways down from my house, so I got in and drove backwards to my driveway. I put my foot on the brakes and instead of slowing down, it was like I was stepping on the gas pedal. My driveway zipped by and no matter what I did, I was going faster and faster down the street, backwards. All I could thing to do was hold onto the steering wheel and hope that I could keep driving straight. I zoomed up a small hill and onto some stairs of a house. I crashed through the front door and the next thing I knew, I was driving backwards down somebody's hallway. Since both sides of the car were being wedged in by the walls of the hallway, I was able to slow down somewhat, and finally came to a stop. I got out of the car and exited the house. An elderly woman came out, wearing a bathrobe. She said that I had broken one of her arms, and I felt really bad about it. I was very happy to escape into the third dream.
I found myself walking the streets of my beloved town of Monroe, Oregon. It was night, and it must have been some time in the future because all of the houses and buildings were giving off beautiful rays of colored light. Not light coming from inside of them, it was more like the structures themselves were glowing. I walked by my grandfather's pool hall and saw that it had been re-built in all it's wooden splendor. The same with the Monroe house, (my grandparent's house) it had been totally re-created and looked just as it did when I stayed there so many years ago. Everything was closed up though and I couldn't go inside any of the buildings, but I was very happy to see that everything was just as I remembered it as a kid. I noticed that there was no sign at all of the Dollar General store that had been built pretty close to where the Monroe house used to be. I definitely woke up happy.
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Anybody ever have disorganized travel dreams?
Like for instance recently one in which I kept "going home", only to realize when I was almost there or had actually arrived that either I no longer lived where I was going, or had never lived there and had confused it with some other destination.
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Like for instance recently one in which I kept "going home", only to realize when I was almost there or had actually arrived that either I no longer lived where I was going, or had never lived there and had confused it with some other destination.
@Robert Yeah that sounds familiar. I'm always trying to get "home' to the house I spent my teenage years in (about five minutes away from where I'm standing) but when I get there I soon realize I really never had anywhere to go because there's already a family that lives there and for some reason they reluctantly let me in and things are just awkward. If the dream keeps going past that point I have to look for work and start all over. I fucking hate this dream, it's exhausting.
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Well that's a cliffhanger there.. Part 2. What Happens Inside The Clover. Stay tuned?
Anybody ever have disorganized travel dreams?
Wake up in another land, can't find passport, where is all my stuff? How am I going to get to the airport and where is my horse?
Stressful travel dreams; the only dreams I ever have for years now. Exhausting. I wake up jetlagged :-\
Yes, I have.
Another land? No
Passport? No.
Where's my stuff? Yes
Getting to the airport? Airport, no. Other destination, yes.
Where's my Horse? YES! I have that dream frequently.
Oh, yeah. +1 ;D
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I had a number of dreams last night but as I woke up, I could only remember two of them. The first one found me back in school. I was a young, grade school student, sitting in class and there was a rather pretty teacher who had nice, long, brown hair. I can't remember what was being taught, not that it mattered because there was a time shift and I was fast forwarded a number of years into the future. I was still at the school, and so was the teacher. She was quite older, yet still fine looking. I remember including myself in that assessment. (The quite older part, anyway.)
Dream two was yet another 'car gone wild' dream. I was a private investigator and was tailing somebody that had to do with some kind of case I was working on. I remember that it was mega important that I keep up with that person. My job depended on it. But wouldn't you know, we got separated in traffic and the person I was following got way ahead of me. This was a city street and the traffic began to get really packed, bumper to bumper. I thought to myself that the only way to catch up with that person was to avoid the heavy traffic by leaving the city and making my way out into the country. I drove out into the country and By George, I could see my target person way, way off in the distance. I stepped on the gas to gain some speed and my car started going extra fast. It took off like a dragster and there was no use in applying the brakes. There was an intersection coming up and my lane had the stop sign. I was going way too fast to be able to stop and make the turn. All I could think to do was steer myself off the road and onto a big field where I was able to turn in a vast, wide arc. This allowed me to intersect with the road once again, and wonder of wonders, I was directly behind the person that I had been following. I wasn't going fast anymore, either.
Part of my dream as seen from above:
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I had a number of dreams last night but as I woke up, I could only remember two of them. The first one found me back in school. I was a young, grade school student, sitting in class and there was a rather pretty teacher who had nice, long, brown hair. I can't remember what was being taught, not that it mattered because there was a time shift and I was fast forwarded a number of years into the future. I was still at the school, and so was the teacher. She was quite older, yet still fine looking. I remember including myself in that assessment. (The quite older part, anyway.)
Dream two was yet another 'car gone wild' dream. I was a private investigator and was tailing somebody that had to do with some kind of case I was working on. I remember that it was mega important that I keep up with that person. My job depended on it. But wouldn't you know, we got separated in traffic and the person I was following got way ahead of me. This was a city street and the traffic began to get really packed, bumper to bumper. I thought to myself that the only way to catch up with that person was to avoid the heavy traffic by leaving the city and making my way out into the country. I drove out into the country and By George, I could see my target person way, way off in the distance. I stepped on the gas to gain some speed and my car started going extra fast. It took off like a dragster and there was no use in applying the brakes. There was an intersection coming up and my lane had the stop sign. I was going way too fast to be able to stop and make the turn. All I could think to do was steer myself off the road and onto a big field where I was able to turn in a vast, wide arc. This allowed me to intersect with the road once again, and wonder of wonders, I was directly behind the person that I had been following. I wasn't going fast anymore, either.
Part of my dream as seen from above:
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Dream experts would say your vehicle represents your ambition (about something) and the other person's represented their ambitions. So, they might say, your ambition was trying to get beside the other person's ambition (about something, could be any topic.) even if you had to distance yourself a lot as a strategy. I have a lot of vehicle dreams, too.
I recently dreamed my driver's front tire was flat and someone was working on it. Guess I lost my ambition for something.
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Dream experts would say your vehicle represents your ambition (about something) and the other person's represented their ambitions. So, they might say, your ambition was trying to get beside the other person's ambition (about something, could be any topic.) even if you had to distance yourself a lot as a strategy. I have a lot of vehicle dreams, too.
I recently dreamed my driver's front tire was flat and someone was working on it. Guess I lost my ambition for something.
I really enjoy your dream analysis, Sofia. Thank you.
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I dreamt that I was in a grocery store and I grabbed a cart to push around. It was a large cart, the kind I don't ordinarily select to put my groceries in (smaller sized carts are of more use to me) but there I was nonetheless, pushing it along the aisles. Suddenly, the cart came alive and I could tell right off that it didn't like me pushing on it. It reared up it's front wheels and spun around, trying to throw my hands off of it. But I held on tight, though my feet actually left the floor for a bit. That cart was really pissed off and it continued to thrash all around and I could hardly hold on. It bashed into a big display of canned goods and it sent the cans flying in all directions. Fellow shoppers were watching the spectacle in amazement and I was glad that there were witnesses to verify the fact that the shopping cart had indeed come alive. Except, right before I woke up, I had a strange thought that there were probably lots of spectators who were thinking that I was actually making the cart look as if it were going wild, and, come to think of it, how could I prove otherwise?
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I dreamt that I was riding on a slow moving bus, looking out a window at a strange, carnival like town. There were amusement rides here and there. A line of prostitutes waved at me to get off the bus and come visit with them, but I stayed in my seat. Further down the street a man called out to say that he had a genuine murder victim on display and that I could enter a tent to get a closer look, for a nominal fee, of course.
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I dreamt that I was aboard a flying saucer, though I hasten to add that I can't remember a single thing about the flight. I only remember the landing. The pilot maneuvered very carefully over an open area of land, somewhere in Africa. There was a watering hole nearby and I could see a bunch of animals getting drinks there. The pilot brought the saucer gently down to the ground but instead of stopping, the spacecraft kept going down. He had inadvertently landed onto a quicksand pit. We must have sunk a good six feet or so until we came to a full stop. I looked out a side window and all I could see was, what else?... a solid glob of quicksand. I watched as a crewmember got out a strange looking rifle of sorts. It almost looked like a kid's toy. It was very plasticky looking and there were multiple triggers on it. He walked over to the saucer's dome and put the end of the gun into a small hole. It must have been a laser gun of some type because he blasted away all of the quicksand that was covering us. All that was left was a big opening and the deep blue sky of Africa. Some gnus wandered over and peered down at us.
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He had inadvertently landed onto a quicksand pit.
Oh I just hate when that happens.
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Public Domain
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I dreamed there was a convenience store near me, open and selling name brand potato chips.
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I dreamed there was a convenience store near me, open and selling name brand potato chips.
Did they have toilet paper? 😬
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Did they have toilet paper? 😬
No
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No
Darn!
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I dreamt that I was working for the Clintons. You know, Bill and Hillary. I get the idea I was some kind of servant or something. I don't know what kind of schedule I was keeping. Apparently, I could sleep whenever I wanted to because I was small talking with Bill one second, and then climbing on top of a big flat table to catch some zzzz's the next. I wasn't on the table alone for long though. Hillary crawled up onto it and snuggled up to me. I was surprised, especially with Bill being in the room, but he didn't seem to mind. He was happily talking away on a telephone. I was pleased because I have always had a crush on Hillary. I was afraid to move though. I thought that if I made any kind of movement it would break the spell, so to speak.
Right then Bill called me over. He said that he had an important mission for me. They were going to have a big gourmet hotdog dinner later that night and I was to locate at least five different styles of pickle relish. So I said "Sure thing." and headed out the door.
I shouldn't have spoken so confidently because it wasn't all that easy to locate five different styles of pickle relish. I visited several stores and wasn't able to find a single container of the stuff.
Finally, I went into a mega big grocery store. Surely I would have better luck there. This was one highbrow store. There was a full fledged marching band standing in one of the aisles. A cheerleader, dressed in white, stood before the band members, whistle in mouth, ready to signal them to march.
Like any store, this place was broken up into different sections. I walked into a cake section and sure enough, there were people sitting at tables, eating cake. No relish there, of course.
I entered a full fledged restaurant inside the store and spotted a large jar of relish sitting in an area where cooks were busily frying up hamburgers and steaks. No, still not the place where I could find the types of relish I was looking for.
I asked a full sized tiger where the condiments section was. (The place was like Disneyland with people dressed up like cartoon characters.) This particular tiger was standing up like a person and it walked me over to some bottles of ketchup and mustard. And relish! Only two kinds, though. Sweet pickle relish and dill relish. Well, I thought to myself, times are hard and the Clintons will just have to make do with two types of pickle relish.
I looked across the store and spotted a big jackrabbit. It was about two or three times the size of a person. It looked around and did a quick, ninety degree turn without crashing into the stocked shelves. I pictured the person inside of the rabbit suit, pulling all manners of ropes and levers. "Talented." I remember thinking to myself.
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I dreamt that I was working for the Clintons. You know, Bill and Hillary. I get the idea I was some kind of servant or something. I don't know what kind of schedule I was keeping. Apparently, I could sleep whenever I wanted to because I was small talking with Bill one second, and then climbing on top of a big flat table to catch some zzzz's the next. I wasn't on the table alone for long though. Hillary crawled up onto it and snuggled up to me. I was surprised, especially with Bill being in the room, but he didn't seem to mind. He was happily talking away on a telephone. I was pleased because I have always had a crush on Hillary. I was afraid to move though. I thought that if I made any kind of movement it would break the spell, so to speak.
Right then Bill called me over. He said that he had an important mission for me. They were going to have a big gourmet hotdog dinner later that night and I was to locate at least five different styles of pickle relish. So I said "Sure thing." and headed out the door.
I shouldn't have spoken so confidently because it wasn't all that easy to locate five different styles of pickle relish. I visited several stores and wasn't able to find a single container of the stuff.
Finally, I went into a mega big grocery store. Surely I would have better luck there. This was one highbrow store. There was a full fledged marching band standing in one of the aisles. A cheerleader, dressed in white, stood before the band members, whistle in mouth, ready to signal them to march.
Like any store, this place was broken up into different sections. I walked into a cake section and sure enough, there were people sitting at tables, eating cake. No relish there, of course.
I entered a full fledged restaurant inside the store and spotted a large jar of relish sitting in an area where cooks were busily frying up hamburgers and steaks. No, still not the place where I could find the types of relish I was looking for.
I asked a full sized tiger where the condiments section was. (The place was like Disneyland with people dressed up like cartoon characters.) This particular tiger was standing up like a person and it walked me over to some bottles of ketchup and mustard. And relish! Only two kinds, though. Sweet pickle relish and dill relish. Well, I thought to myself, times are hard and the Clintons will just have to make do with two types of pickle relish.
I looked across the store and spotted a big jackrabbit. It was about two or three times the size of a person. It looked around and did a quick, ninety degree turn without crashing into the stocked shelves. I pictured the person inside of the rabbit suit, pulling all manners of ropes and levers. "Talented." I remember thinking to myself.
This is amazing!
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I dreamt that I was having a full fledged party in my living room. Friends and strangers alike were gleefully consuming drinks and eats and talking and laughing with each other. Then I remembered, people weren't supposed to be gathering together, so I stepped outside to avoid the crowd. It was a bright, sunny day out there. I walked down onto my front lawn and looked up at the sky. I saw two big humpback whales up there. They were as high as the clouds and they weren't flying either. They were swimming. From my perspective, it looked as though they were swimming circles around the sun.
But how did I know that they were swimming and not flying? Because some ancient god silently whispered some historical information into my dream mind. Apparently, when living creatures first began to appear on the earth, the atmosphere was thicker, like seawater, so naturally the whales would be swimming around up there. But as time went by, the seawater atmosphere began to burn away and after millions of years, the level of the seawater atmosphere went down until all that remains of it today are the oceans of the world. And the whales went down with it.
I guess I was seeing things as they were, all those millions of years ago.
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I dreamt that I was having a full fledged party in my living room. Friends and strangers alike were gleefully consuming drinks and eats and talking and laughing with each other. Then I remembered, people weren't supposed to be gathering together, so I stepped outside to avoid the crowd. It was a bright, sunny day out there. I walked down onto my front lawn and looked up at the sky. I saw two big humpback whales up there. They were as high as the clouds and they weren't flying either. They were swimming. From my perspective, it looked as though they were swimming circles around the sun.
But how did I know that they were swimming and not flying? Because some ancient god silently whispered some historical information into my dream mind. Apparently, when living creatures first began to appear on the earth, the atmosphere was thicker, like seawater, so naturally the whales would be swimming around up there. But as time went by, the seawater atmosphere began to burn away and after millions of years, the level of the seawater atmosphere went down until all that remains of it today are the oceans of the world. And the whales went down with it.
I guess I was seeing things as they were, all those millions of years ago.
Did it feel fun?
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Did it feel fun?
Yes, very fun. And I felt like I learned something.
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It's been awhile, but I finally had another dream in which I was able to visit my favorite town, Monroe, Oregon. It was dark, and I was casually leaning up against a light pole. I was standing in front of where my grandfather's poolhall used to be. I felt kind of blue because the distinct, wooden poolhall building was no longer there. In it's place, a more modern building stood and judging by the sign, it was now a second hand, odds and ends type of store.
It was around 7:30 pm and yet there was still an open sign on the door so I stepped inside. A man, possibly the owner, approached me and he had a rather surprised look on his face. Behind him, in a back room, I spotted a lady who was nervously buttoning up the top two buttons of her blouse.
"Pardon me," I told the man, "If it's too late, I can go."
"Oh no, no," He assured me. "It's not anywhere near closing time. Please, feel free to look around."
So I did as the man suggested. I walked up and down the aisles looking at stuff. Some other people entered the store as I did my browsing. There really wasn't anything that caught my attention until I came across an old photograph. I picked it up and noticed something strange about it. "I've got to have this," I remember thinking to myself.
I walked up the man and handed him the picture. "I'd like to buy that." I said. "It's a pretty rare photo though. "I doubt I've got enough money to purchase it."
The owner, or clerk, or whoever he was, glanced at the photograph and, willing to bargain with me, said "Yes, well, it is rather unusual, but it's not in very good shape."
It was an old, black and white studio photograph and it showed a long ago man, woman and child and they looked like pioneers. The photograph was in perfect three-D.
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It's been awhile, but I finally had another dream in which I was able to visit my favorite town, Monroe, Oregon. It was dark, and I was casually leaning up against a light pole. I was standing in front of where my grandfather's poolhall used to be. I felt kind of blue because the distinct, wooden poolhall building was no longer there. In it's place, a more modern building stood and judging by the sign, it was now a second hand, odds and ends type of store.
It was around 7:30 pm and yet there was still an open sign on the door so I stepped inside. A man, possibly the owner, approached me and he had a rather surprised look on his face. Behind him, in a back room, I spotted a lady who was nervously buttoning up the top two buttons of her blouse.
"Pardon me," I told the man, "If it's too late, I can go."
"Oh no, no," He assured me. "It's not anywhere near closing time. Please, feel free to look around."
So I did as the man suggested. I walked up and down the aisles looking at stuff. Some other people entered the store as I did my browsing. There really wasn't anything that caught my attention until I came across an old photograph. I picked it up and noticed something strange about it. "I've got to have this," I remember thinking to myself.
I walked up the man and handed him the picture. "I'd like to buy that." I said. "It's a pretty rare photo though. "I doubt I've got enough money to purchase it."
The owner, or clerk, or whoever he was, glanced at the photograph and, willing to bargain with me, said "Yes, well, it is rather unusual, but it's not in very good shape."
It was an old, black and white studio photograph and it showed a long ago man, woman and child and they looked like pioneers. The photograph was in perfect three-D.
OH I was reading quickly and read that as prisoners.
For the post...Like!
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OH I was reading quickly and read that as prisoners.
For the post...Like!
Ha, prisoners would have made for a more interesting dream. They were all dressed in black, (probably because it was a black and white pic.) like clothes people wore way back when. Not really sure if they were pioneers or not. That was just a word that popped into my mind while I was describing the dream. But the three-D effect was great. It felt like I was looking right into someone's living room.
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Ha, prisoners would have made for a more interesting dream. They were all dressed in black, (probably because it was a black and white pic.) like clothes people wore way back when. Not really sure if they were pioneers or not. That was just a word that popped into my mind while I was describing the dream. But the three-D effect was great. It felt like I was looking right into someone's living room.
It would be great to find the photo.
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Kodak Azo paper prints developed in amidol got that 3D look.
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I dreamt that I went to a bar called The Hammer. I ordered three pitchers of beer and had them brought to my table. I filled up a big glassful of the stuff and hoisted a toast to the bald headed bartender who had served me. I drank the beer down in one fell swoop. Then I toasted the other customers who were pale and indistinct, like ghosts. "Nice social distancing," I thought to myself. Another big glassful, down the hatch.
I looked up at a soundless television set up high in the corner of the establishment. A mattress commercial was playing. It showed a man and woman making love on a mattress. Just the mattress, no bed and they were in the middle of a barren, sandy desert. Then the scene shifted to the pair making love in the middle of a busy street. A big truck went across the screen and when it had passed, the man and woman were under water. Still on the mattress and still making love. The words Fall In Love were superimposed upon the screen as the commercial came to an end.
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I was sitting backstage, waiting to be interviewed about what it was like to be a monitor. I knew that I had been in the news of late, especially since I had been given the assignment of vanquishing the Covid virus. I had hoped that I was in the Fox studio so that I could be interviewed by that beautiful woman that sits between Steve and Bryan, but no, in walked Dan Rather. He looked kind of young. He had jet black hair and it was shiny with hair oil. He greeted me and I stood up to shake his hand. I was wearing a pull over shirt with no buttons and as my right hand came up it slipped inside the shirt so that I was offering Dan a handful of shirt to shake. He was tickled by my shirt-shake and noted that he had never before been offered such a handshake. He waited for my hand to get free and then we shook hands. He said something about the interview and how he'd be asking me how I was going to defeat the virus, but we didn't do the interview because I woke up.
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I was in a dark house, pushing a push broom across a wooden floor. I was doing a pretty good for awhile but then I started seeing some wet spots appear. I pushed the broom some more and could see that there was definitely something wet on the floor. I took a closer look and saw that it was blood. I swept some more and turned up some fingers and toes. I looked across the room and saw the dim shape of a body. This isn't good, I thought to myself. I went to the front door to look outside. It was plenty dark out there but I could see a lit room in a house across the street. Policemen were in there searching for something. As I watched, some of the police were crossing the street, headed my way. I stepped back inside and looked at the floor and my blood stained broom. Now what? I wondered.
I heard some shouting outside and walked back to the front door. The policemen were shouting at me, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. I saw a light switch to the left and flicked it but the porch light wouldn't come on. I tried one to the right and it didn't work either. The policemen were shouting louder and I had a thought that they were thinking that I was reaching for a weapon so I raised my arms and fell to my knees.
"Huuugah maranaguhhh!" they shouted meaninglessly. "It's OK, I'm not a threat!" I shouted to them. "Whhhafumudoowah gretch!" they shouted back. They drew closer with their guns aimed at me.
This just isn't working, I thought to myself. All I could think to do was point at my ears and then a give a palms up signal. Thankfully, a policeman spoke and he made sense. "Are you hard of hearing?" he asked. I nodded yes. He walked inside, took a look at all the carnage and then walked back out. "He's been here," he told his fellow officers. "But he's not here now. Probably in another house."
I was very happy to hear him say that. I walked into the house and looked around for my coat. I wanted to join them in the hunt.
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I dreamt that I was working for the Clintons. You know, Bill and Hillary...
I was pleased because I have always had a crush on Hillary....
Right then Bill called me over. He said that he had an important mission for me....
I looked across the store and spotted a big jackrabbit. It was about two or three times the size of a person...
Terrifying.
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I was in a dark house, pushing a push broom across a wooden floor. I was doing a pretty good for awhile but then I started seeing some wet spots appear. I pushed the broom some more and could see that there was definitely something wet on the floor. I took a closer look and saw that it was blood. I swept some more and turned up some fingers and toes. I looked across the room and saw the dim shape of a body. This isn't good, I thought to myself. I went to the front door to look outside. It was plenty dark out there but I could see a lit room in a house across the street. Policemen were in there searching for something. As I watched, some of the police were crossing the street, headed my way. I stepped back inside and looked at the floor and my blood stained broom. Now what? I wondered.
I heard some shouting outside and walked back to the front door. The policemen were shouting at me, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. I saw a light switch to the left and flicked it but the porch light wouldn't come on. I tried one to the right and it didn't work either. The policemen were shouting louder and I had a thought that they were thinking that I was reaching for a weapon so I raised my arms and fell to my knees.
"Huuugah maranaguhhh!" they shouted meaninglessly. "It's OK, I'm not a threat!" I shouted to them. "Whhhafumudoowah gretch!" they shouted back. They drew closer with their guns aimed at me.
This just isn't working, I thought to myself. All I could think to do was point at my ears and then a give a palms up signal. Thankfully, a policeman spoke and he made sense. "Are you hard of hearing?" he asked. I nodded yes. He walked inside, took a look at all the carnage and then walked back out. "He's been here," he told his fellow officers. "But he's not here now. Probably in another house."
I was very happy to hear him say that. I walked into the house and looked around for my coat. I wanted to join them in the hunt.
Huuugah maranaguhhh!
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I dreamt I was at my favorite outdoor coffeeshop in Berkeley. No one was wearing masks, except to order. I was sitting with a friend, a car nut, who had just bought an older Porsche - the exact model with the exact options and color he'd spent months looking for.
One of the local hobos was standing in the street, a step off the sidewalk, over by the newspaper boxes. Usually he stands there and twists metal wire into art objects, using the tops of the boxes sort of as a desktop. Today he had a thin 3 foot long board, and was using it a sort of like a golf club to hit the little rocks, broken glass, and bits of metal one usually finds on the side of the street - blasting them across the street towards the campus.
My friend is very finicky about his car, worrying over every imperfection, no matter how slight. Just as he mentioned the bum and said something about him not being as obnoxious as some of the others, the guy pivots and starts ''golfing'' the gravel across the street towards the other corner. J's car, parked there is right in the line of fire. I exclaim ''look he's hitting rocks towards you car''. ''You're kidding'', says J. ''I'm... not''. J races over, and has a long talk with his favorite bum.
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I was in a dark house, pushing a push broom across a wooden floor. I was doing a pretty good for awhile but then I started seeing some wet spots appear. I pushed the broom some more and could see that there was definitely something wet on the floor. I took a closer look and saw that it was blood. I swept some more and turned up some fingers and toes. I looked across the room and saw the dim shape of a body. This isn't good, I thought to myself. I went to the front door to look outside. It was plenty dark out there but I could see a lit room in a house across the street. Policemen were in there searching for something. As I watched, some of the police were crossing the street, headed my way. I stepped back inside and looked at the floor and my blood stained broom. Now what? I wondered.
I heard some shouting outside and walked back to the front door. The policemen were shouting at me, but I couldn't understand what they were saying. I saw a light switch to the left and flicked it but the porch light wouldn't come on. I tried one to the right and it didn't work either. The policemen were shouting louder and I had a thought that they were thinking that I was reaching for a weapon so I raised my arms and fell to my knees.
"Huuugah maranaguhhh!" they shouted meaninglessly. "It's OK, I'm not a threat!" I shouted to them. "Whhhafumudoowah gretch!" they shouted back. They drew closer with their guns aimed at me.
This just isn't working, I thought to myself. All I could think to do was point at my ears and then a give a palms up signal. Thankfully, a policeman spoke and he made sense. "Are you hard of hearing?" he asked. I nodded yes. He walked inside, took a look at all the carnage and then walked back out. "He's been here," he told his fellow officers. "But he's not here now. Probably in another house."
I was very happy to hear him say that. I walked into the house and looked around for my coat. I wanted to join them in the hunt.
WOW!
I shall no longer sweep the floor as blood and digits might appear.
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Huuugah maranaguhhh!
Whhhafumudoowah gretch!
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I dreamt I was at my favorite outdoor coffeeshop in Berkeley. No one was wearing masks, except to order. I was sitting with a friend, a car nut, who had just bought an older Porsche - the exact model with the exact options and color he'd spent months looking for.
One of the local hobos was standing in the street, a step off the sidewalk, over by the newspaper boxes. Usually he stands there and twists metal wire into art objects, using the tops of the boxes sort of as a desktop. Today he had a thin 3 foot long board, and was using it a sort of like a golf club to hit the little rocks, broken glass, and bits of metal one usually finds on the side of the street - blasting them across the street towards the campus.
My friend is very finicky about his car, worrying over every imperfection, no matter how slight. Just as he mentioned the bum and said something about him not being as obnoxious as some of the others, the guy pivots and starts ''golfing'' the gravel across the street towards the other corner. J's car, parked there is right in the line of fire. I exclaim ''look he's hitting rocks towards you car''. ''You're kidding'', says J. ''I'm... not''. J races over, and has a long talk with his favorite bum.
I hear the hobums are getting very aggressive in some parts.
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WOW!
I shall no longer sweep the floor as blood and digits might appear.
Better safe than sorry. ;)
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I hear the hobums are getting very aggressive in some parts.
I lied, it wasn't a dream.
Funny thing about the hobos, they never bother me. Well, except for the one I punched on Telegraph Ave that time.
I look big and strong, and I put on the game face when I see one up ahead. If you look close, these people are very unhealthy, which means weak, they look like a strong wind will blow them over. Go bother somebody else.
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This reminds me of a story my Grandmother always told me. She grew up in a Railroad town so there would always be migrant hobos coming through. She said even when your husband (or if you didn't have a husband) was at work you should leave a man's hat at the door so it could be seen. It signaled that there was a man of the house and he was home. This apparently made hobos more hesitant to knock on your door to ask for food.
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This reminds me of a story my Grandmother always told me. She grew up in a Railroad town so there would always be migrant hobos coming through. She said even when your husband (or if you didn't have a husband) was at work you should leave a man's hat at the door so it could be seen. It signaled that there was a man of the house and he was home. This apparently made hobos more hesitant to knock on your door to ask for food.
The first hobos had a wide network of signs and markings that warned fellow hobos of what might await them in a certain town or house. At first I thought that hobos came about from the Depression but apparently they have been around for as long as there have been railroads.
https://www.logodesignlove.com/hobo-signs-and-symbols
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The first hobos had a wide network of signs and markings that warned fellow hobos of what might await them in a certain town or house. At first I thought that hobos came about from the Depression but apparently they have been around for as long as there have been railroads.
https://www.logodesignlove.com/hobo-signs-and-symbols
@SpookPumpkin - the sign for "kind lady" is a cat. ;D
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@SpookPumpkin - the sign for "kind lady" is a cat. ;D
😸
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At first I thought that hobos came about from the Depression but apparently they have been around for as long as there have been railroads.
The ones by that name have been around only that long -- actually a little less -- but itinerant workers go back centuries to the first loosening of the feudal system.
Out in the fields there were benefits in terms of specialized goods and services to be had by division of labor, but no easy way to take advantage of them. Someone who had a special skill and/or could produce specialized goods had just a little demand for hir product or service. If farmers benefited from a labor-saving flapdoodle that they could use frequently but would last for many years, to make a living making them would require a great many customers. Before urbanization, these customers were spread over an enormous area. So all you could do would be to walk from one to the next, bartering for sustenance, and carrying the tools for the making of flapdoodles. Still, it was enough of a business to make peddling a living.
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I fell asleep with politics on my mind last night and low and behold I found myself holding a picture of the love of my life, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. The picture began to grow in size in my hands so I dropped it just in time because there, standing before me, was the full sized, living, breathing Xandria, (as she likes me to call her.) First thing I did was ask her about the presidential race and she told me, "Biden 26, Trump 21."
"Well that's good, right?" I asked. She didn't answer but a look of consternation crossed her beautiful face. I cheered her up though, when I told her that she was going to be the first female president in four more years. Then I woke up.
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I fell asleep with politics on my mind last night and low and behold I found myself holding a picture of the love of my life, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. The picture began to grow in size in my hands so I dropped it just in time because there, standing before me, was the full sized, living, breathing Xandria, (as she likes me to call her.) First thing I did was ask her about the presidential race and she told me, "Biden 26, Trump 21."
"Well that's good, right?" I asked. She didn't answer but a look of consternation crossed her beautiful face. I cheered her up though, when I told her that she was going to be the first female president in four more years. Then I woke up.
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Ugly, but LOL!
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It was late at night, jet black out there at the gangster hideout. I was standing by a tall, chain link fence, looking out through it but I couldn't see anything. Mack, (or Mac?) the night watchman strolled out of his guard shack and asked if I could see anything and I said, "No."
"You look a little tired Mack," I said. "How about a cup of coffee?"
The old watchman smiled and gave me a nod. I went into a nearby building and got a cup of coffee out of a vending machine and took it out to poor old Mack, who was laying there on the pavement, dead. Somebody out there in the darkness plugged him, I surmised. Right then, the boss drove up in his big, black limousine and he told me to get in. I climbed into the car but we didn't drive out of the outpost, no, he turned the car around and headed back to headquarters. We pulled up to the curb and a super duper of a bad apple gangster walked up to the car and asked the boss if we were going to get revenge for Mack's slaying.
"Let's fight!" I shouted out with an angry voice.
The hard core criminal leaned down to my window and gave me a nice 'That's the spirit' look.
But the boss said "No."
He kind of threw water on our desire to get revenge, so I woke up.
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It was late at night, jet black out there at the gangster hideout. I was standing by a tall, chain link fence, looking out through it but I couldn't see anything. Mack, (or Mac?) the night watchman strolled out of his guard shack and asked if I could see anything and I said, "No."
"You look a little tired Mack," I said. "How about a cup of coffee?"
The old watchman smiled and gave me a nod. I went into a nearby building and got a cup of coffee out of a vending machine and took it out to poor old Mack, who was laying there on the pavement, dead. Somebody out there in the darkness plugged him, I surmised. Right then, the boss drove up in his big, black limousine and he told me to get in. I climbed into the car but we didn't drive out of the outpost, no, he turned the car around and headed back to headquarters. We pulled up to the curb and a super duper of a bad apple gangster walked up to the car and asked the boss if we were going to get revenge for Mack's slaying.
"Let's fight!" I shouted out with an angry voice.
The hard core criminal leaned down to my window and gave me a nice 'That's the spirit' look.
But the boss said "No."
He kind of threw water on our desire to get revenge, so I woke up.
Never mind revenge, what about that cup of coffee? Would the boss mind if you carried it into the limo?
And is there some way we can merge the two Dreams threads?
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Never mind revenge, what about that cup of coffee? Would the boss mind if you carried it into the limo?
And is there some way we can merge the two Dreams threads?
That was a fun dream, very dark and film noir like. That's why I described it like I did. As far as the cup of coffee goes, I stopped dreaming about it once I spotted the watchman's body. The dialogue in the dream was rather simple and I think that's why I was able to remember it upon awakening.
I kind of gravitated to this thread because it is the older of the two.
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That was a fun dream, very dark and film noir like. That's why I described it like I did. As far as the cup of coffee goes, I stopped dreaming about it once I spotted the watchman's body.
My question about the coffee was because I thought that would be funny. You know, like someone watching that as a movie and then saying, "Never mind about the revenge, is the coffee still hot?"
But I guess after, "Leave the gun. Take the cannoli," nothing like that is funny any more.
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Zippy is dreaming.
http://zippythepinhead.com/Merchant2/merchant.mv?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=ZTP&Product_Code=28-Nov-20&Category_Code=
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Zippy is dreaming.
http://zippythepinhead.com/Merchant2/merchant.mv?Screen=PROD&Store_Code=ZTP&Product_Code=28-Nov-20&Category_Code=
LIKE
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I dreamt that I was singing a song, a nice bluesy type number with actual lyrics and everything. The funny thing was, I remembered it after I woke up. Actually the lyrics were gone, but I remembered the melody. I went about my day humming it, until another song entered my head. The song was Pretty Baby and once it got in there it totally erased my song. If only I could have saved that dream tune. If I could have taken it down, added lyrics and sold it to a well known singer. It would have been a hit.
Here is the song that killed my dream tune.
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I had a dream that my mother invented roll-on deodorant. I asked her why she never told me and if she made money from it. She wouldn't answer and looked like she was going to cry. The only other part of the dream I can recall is that she was putting decorative shrink wrap on pears. They were little sleeves of plastic with designs on them and she'd slip them on the pears then use a hair dryer to make them shrink and seal around the fruit.
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I had a dream that my mother invented roll-on deodorant. I asked her why she never told me and if she made money from it. She wouldn't answer and looked like she was going to cry. The only other part of the dream I can recall is that she was putting decorative shrink wrap on pears. They were little sleeves of plastic with designs on them and she'd slip them on the pears then use a hair dryer to make them shrink and seal around the fruit.
We need a dream dictionary. There's some Freudian shit going on there.
....BRB....
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We need a dream dictionary. There's some Freudian shit going on there.
....BRB....
@ShayP Dream Bible says you're awesome:
To dream of a pear represents feeling good being responsible or making responsible choices. Responsibility or responsible ideas that feel good being good for you. Feeling good being a good person or a responsible person.
I'm going to stop there and not look up shrink wrap; because let's be honest, nothing good can come of that.
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I had a dream last night that I can't remember but when I woke up this morning my pillow was missing.
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@ShayP Dream Bible says you're awesome:
To dream of a pear represents feeling good being responsible or making responsible choices. Responsibility or responsible ideas that feel good being good for you. Feeling good being a good person or a responsible person.
I'm going to stop there and not look up shrink wrap; because let's be honest, nothing good can come of that.
That Dream Bible is wrong. ;D @PolkaDot Well, good person...I'd like to think so. Responsible? Well that's another story. ;)
Yeah, it's best to not look up shrink wrap. Especially since it's a dream involving my mother. *cringe* LOL!
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I had a dream that my mother invented roll-on deodorant. I asked her why she never told me and if she made money from it. She wouldn't answer
Kept mum, huh?
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@ShayP Dream Bible says you're awesome:
To dream of a pear represents feeling good being responsible or making responsible choices. Responsibility or responsible ideas that feel good being good for you. Feeling good being a good person or a responsible person.
I'm going to stop there and not look up shrink wrap; because let's be honest, nothing good can come of that.
More down side potential than roll-on, though?
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I haven’t seen any dream interpretation booklets, a.k.a. Dream Books, for sale in a long time. Did the Internet kill those, too?
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Kept mum, huh?
Well played sir. Well played. ;) ;D
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I haven’t seen any dream interpretation booklets, a.k.a. Dream Books, for sale in a long time. Did the Internet kill those, too?
Immediately after the radio star. :'(
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I dreamt that I was laid out on an operating table, waiting for surgery of some type. I wasn't doped up or anything and in walked the surgeon. Or rather wheeled in because it was a life sized cardboard cut out of President Trump. Actually it was a big cartoon cutout of him and he was wearing a regular surgeon's uniform and one of those sideways white hats on top. I freaked out and tried to hop off the operating table but naturally I couldn't move. I heard someone's voice proclaim that I would be having my appendix removed and also possibly some open heart surgery. I continued to struggle until I woke up.
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To this day I still dream about the really cool double story, red bricked house that my aunt and uncle used to own. In this particular dream, I made my way to the stairway and walked up to the second floor. Much to my surprise there was an elevator there, so I got in and went up even higher. When the elevator door opened I walked into the hallway of a brightly lit hospital wing. I entered a large room filled with patients and nurses. "Oh, there you are," a pretty, blonde haired nurse said to me. "If you'll just sit here." I sat on a padded exam table and awaited further instructions. "If you'll just roll up your sleeve." she said. I glanced around and noticed that dozens of people were all getting shots and then it came to me. Of course...the vaccine! So I rolled up a sleeve and the pretty nurse stuck me with the needle. I smiled because I didn't feel a thing. But then the nurse began to have trouble administering the shot. "Oh come on now Dennis, this is no time to act up." She was talking to the syringe. She began to yank it all around while the needle was still in me and it started to really hurt. After awhile she finally removed the needle and I beat a hasty retreat out of that room. My arm was aching to beat the band and I felt dizzy and feverish. I looked for the elevator and couldn't find it. I wandered through rooms filled with sick and dying people and it smelled like blood, bandages and ether. Finally I found the elevator and went back down to my aunt and uncle's house.
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Know what I call it when we get a new dream entry?
A GOOD DAY!
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Know what I call it when we get a new dream entry?
A GOOD DAY!
Thanks Bart. More to follow. I've been having some really crazy ones of late.
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Know what I call it when we get a new dream entry?
A GOOD DAY!
And what are mine in the other thread, chopped liver?
Actually compared to his, they are. Tonight I'll see if I can dream of some rye bread and pickles.
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Perhaps both dream threads could be consolidated?
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I dreamt that I was living in a strange world where everyone wore robes and all the men had long beards. It was easy to find out what job I had because there was a trial going on. A man was being held for murdering a popular citizen of the town. The trial proceeded with the prosecutor and defense attorney both singing their side of the case. That's right, they were singing, just like in an opera. The jury sang like a chorus, the word guilty and the murderer was brought to me for sentencing. In a grand, operatic voice, I sang that the man was to be released, and returned to his home, up on a mountain. This rather shocked the large crowd of onlookers and there was much grumbling, but I had the final word. The freed man laughed at everybody and then he walked up the mountain. The next morning, he stepped outside his house into bright sunshine. He took a big breath and chuckled some more at having gotten away with murder. Right at that moment, there was an earth tremor and the ground opened up beneath him. He fell screaming into a deep dark pit. Down, down, down he went, until a length of chain, stretched across the pit, stopped him. He was able to sit on the chain and after looking around he noticed that two skeletons were holding each end of the chain.
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I dreamt that I was living in a strange world where everyone wore robes and all the men had long beards. It was easy to find out what job I had because there was a trial going on. A man was being held for murdering a popular citizen of the town. The trial proceeded with the prosecutor and defense attorney both singing their side of the case. That's right, they were singing, just like in an opera. The jury sang like a chorus, the word guilty and the murderer was brought to me for sentencing. In a grand, operatic voice, I sang that the man was to be released, and returned to his home, up on a mountain. This rather shocked the large crowd of onlookers and there was much grumbling, but I had the final word. The freed man laughed at everybody and then he walked up the mountain. The next morning, he stepped outside his house into bright sunshine. He took a big breath and chuckled some more at having gotten away with murder. Right at that moment, there was an earth tremor and the ground opened up beneath him. He fell screaming into a deep dark pit. Down, down, down he went, until a length of chain, stretched across the pit, stopped him. He was able to sit on the chain and after looking around he noticed that two skeletons were holding each end of the chain.
Did the onlookers grumble in song, or was it just...grumbling?
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Did the onlookers grumble in song, or was it just...grumbling?
Just grumbling. Likewise the murderer didn't scream in song as he was falling into the pit.
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I dreamt that I was driving down the highway and my car's motor exploded. I pulled over to the side of the road and called an auto mechanic. He said no problem, that he did all kinds of engine work and that he would even tow the car to my place and do all the work there. Fast forward to my house and the mechanic came up to me and said that he took the motor apart and that he had cleaned and repaired each individual piece. I thought to myself that the car would surely run good now. I eagerly followed him to my carport and there was my motor, only it was still in pieces. Hundreds of parts all laid out on a big tarp. Oh they were clean all right, very bright and shiny. The motor block, wires, carburetor parts, fans and fan belts, everything like new. The mechanic handed me the bill and left. I was kind of shocked at first but then I got excited about reassembling the motor myself, which is kind of funny because I only know the very basic rudiments of car repair work.
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I dreamt that I was driving down the highway and my car's motor exploded. I pulled over to the side of the road and called an auto mechanic. He said no problem, that he did all kinds of engine work and that he would even tow the car to my place and do all the work there. Fast forward to my house and the mechanic came up to me and said that he took the motor apart and that he had cleaned and repaired each individual piece. I thought to myself that the car would surely run good now. I eagerly followed him to my carport and there was my motor, only it was still in pieces. Hundreds of parts all laid out on a big tarp. Oh they were clean all right, very bright and shiny. The motor block, wires, carburetor parts, fans and fan belts, everything like new. The mechanic handed me the bill and left.
Oh, you wanted it put back together? That'll run you a little extra.
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Oh, you wanted it put back together? That'll run you a little extra.
Haha! Come to think of it, I didn't look at the bill. It might have startled me awake.
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Haha! Come to think of it, I didn't look at the bill. It might have startled me awake.
Worthy of a shriek, but I hope that wasn't the case.
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I had a dream in which I found myself working in a plum factory. We were taking fresh plums and smashing them up to obtain plum juice. My job was to reach an arm down a square wooden tank that rose off the floor two or three feet. It was full of warm water. I was supposed to swirl my arm around in it to circulate the water. Not sure what this had to do with plums but it was my job, so I did it. (Interestingly, I had dream foreknowledge that the tank went straight down for miles and miles.) After I was done stirring, I dried my arm off with a towel and picked up a cup of coffee. I took some sips and it was very good tasting coffee. I leaned my head back to drink the rest of it and a plum rolled out from the bottom of the cup and banged against my mouth. It caused me to spill the last of the coffee all over my face. I dried my face and walked over to a group of workers who were standing around, talking with one another. "All right, which one of you put a plum in my cup of coffee?" I asked. Nobody answered so I said, "One person put a plum in my coffee, so since none of you will admit to it, sooner or later you will all find a plum in your coffees. You have all been warned." I walked back to my work station feeling pleased with myself, as if I had told them all off or something.
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I had a dream in which I found myself working in a plum factory. We were taking fresh plums and smashing them up to obtain plum juice. My job was to reach an arm down a square wooden tank that rose off the floor two or three feet. It was full of warm water. I was supposed to swirl my arm around in it to circulate the water. Not sure what this had to do with plums but it was my job, so I did it. (Interestingly, I had dream foreknowledge that the tank went straight down for miles and miles.) After I was done stirring, I dried my arm off with a towel and picked up a cup of coffee. I took some sips and it was very good tasting coffee. I leaned my head back to drink the rest of it and a plum rolled out from the bottom of the cup and banged against my mouth. It caused me to spill the last of the coffee all over my face. I dried my face and walked over to a group of workers who were standing around, talking with one another. "All right, which one of you put a plum in my cup of coffee?" I asked. Nobody answered so I said, "One person put a plum in my coffee, so since none of you will admit to it, sooner or later you will all find a plum in your coffees. You have all been warned." I walked back to my work station feeling pleased with myself, as if I had told them all off or something.
A bunch of Practical Jokers at the plum factory. Good for you for giving those clowns a warning.
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I had a dream in which I found myself working in a plum factory. We were taking fresh plums and smashing them up to obtain plum juice. My job was to reach an arm down a square wooden tank that rose off the floor two or three feet. It was full of warm water. I was supposed to swirl my arm around in it to circulate the water. Not sure what this had to do with plums but it was my job, so I did it. (Interestingly, I had dream foreknowledge that the tank went straight down for miles and miles.) After I was done stirring, I dried my arm off with a towel and picked up a cup of coffee. I took some sips and it was very good tasting coffee. I leaned my head back to drink the rest of it and a plum rolled out from the bottom of the cup and banged against my mouth. It caused me to spill the last of the coffee all over my face. I dried my face and walked over to a group of workers who were standing around, talking with one another. "All right, which one of you put a plum in my cup of coffee?" I asked. Nobody answered so I said, "One person put a plum in my coffee, so since none of you will admit to it, sooner or later you will all find a plum in your coffees. You have all been warned." I walked back to my work station feeling pleased with myself, as if I had told them all off or something.
Reads as if your dream interpreted "a plum job" literally. In metaphor, a plum is a good thing. Your reaching into a bottomless well suggests limitless possibilities. Maybe your dream was saying you were getting something good, and that though it was hitting you in the face, you took it wrongly as a bad thing. The face full of hot coffee may indicate some unfortunate but probably minor and temporary inconvenience that accompanied the "plum", but the people around you (who really represent you, telling this to yourself via dream) don't understand how you're taking your "plum" as a bad thing. When life hands you plums....
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Reads as if your dream interpreted "a plum job" literally. In metaphor, a plum is a good thing. Your reaching into a bottomless well suggests limitless possibilities. Maybe your dream was saying you were getting something good, and that though it was hitting you in the face, you took it wrongly as a bad thing. The face full of hot coffee may indicate some unfortunate but probably minor and temporary inconvenience that accompanied the "plum", but the people around you (who really represent you, telling this to yourself via dream) don't understand how you're taking your "plum" as a bad thing. When life hands you plums....
Kind of glad I didn't dream about prunes.
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I had the odd dream where I was part of some citizens committee and we got a report that a grade school teacher was filling the heads of her students with information that wasn't part of the school's curriculum. We were all filled with a wild zeal to confront the teacher and we raced over to the school, stepped inside and ran up a flight of stairs. Oddly, the teacher and her students were crammed in the hallway...desks, chairs, tables, everything. One of our party hurled an accusation at the teacher and she stood up from her desk. She was remarkably beautiful. Somewhat slim with interesting red hair that was closely cut, kind of like what Mia Farrow had in the movie Rosemary's Baby. She approached our group and sang a song. We were bewitched, bedazzled and bewildered by it. It had a lovely melody and the subject was about the passage of time. When she finished, she walked down the stairs, pausing briefly as if she had forgotten something. I tried to call out to her and say that we were wrong about her teaching style, and that I loved her, but my voice wouldn't work and she continued to walk on down the stairs.
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I had the odd dream where I was part of some citizens committee and we got a report that a grade school teacher was filling the heads of her students with information that wasn't part of the school's curriculum. We were all filled with a wild zeal to confront the teacher and we raced over to the school, stepped inside and ran up a flight of stairs. Oddly, the teacher and her students were crammed in the hallway...desks, chairs, tables, everything. One of our party hurled an accusation at the teacher and she stood up from her desk. She was remarkably beautiful. Somewhat slim with interesting red hair that was closely cut, kind of like what Mia Farrow had in the movie Rosemary's Baby. She approached our group and sang a song. We were bewitched, bedazzled and bewildered by it. It had a lovely melody and the subject was about the passage of time. When she finished, she walked down the stairs, pausing briefly as if she had forgotten something. I tried to call out to her and say that we were wrong about her teaching style, and that I loved her, but my voice wouldn't work and she continued to walk on down the stairs.
"Hey, what kind of horseshit you teaching in this lousy excuse for a s...well, hellloooo!"
<--Wolfie here would have his tongue hanging out. This is just like those cartoons he's been in.
Darn, I left that avatar at Bellgab! Wolfie's not here, that's the real me. Maybe I should rescue Wolfie from there.
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Any of the rest of you ever "compose" original music for your dreams? I do occasionally. Last night at the end, there was a number playing (like background in a movie or play) whose 2-bar theme I remember. It sounded like the stereotypic way a movie might indicate, "We're now in China." But the dream scene had no reason to be set anywhere in the Far East except for the fact that the scene immediately preceding it had been about firework making; it was somewhere in upstate New York. Searching now reveals a China, NY, east of Binghamton and north of the former village of Cannonsville, which was submerged by a reservoir for New York City. Not bad "hits" for a dream, huh?
In the dream, I'd made a last minute decision to go to this fireworks convention. Someone was giving tips on making whistle cases, saying not to sacrifice wall thickness, and demonstrating that a commercial whistle firework was overwhelmingly paper wall -- and that that was a good thing. Then I realized I'd made a rash decision being there with no motel room and having to drive home late at night. Instead, someone found me lodging in the motel's office, where I helped a little girl clean out her things, as she'd been staying there. I found some stuff in a drawer and asked the girl if it was hers, and she said she couldn't remember. That's when the "Chinese" music was playing.
I'm going to have to find a free online version of that program that recognizes music, hum into it, and see if my dream composition was really original.
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Apparently my dreams come complete with commercial product placements.
Last night I dreamed an episode of The Adventures of Superman, set in the era that TV series aired in. I don't remember anything of the plot but that somebody wound up getting dirty and needed to clean up, and that Superman (not as Clark Kent, because few would want an endorsement from him) told him, almost completely gratuitously, "I can set you up with a cake of Lifebuoy soap. It makes you feel slippery, not sneezy." Apparently around that time they'd improved the smell of it so it no longer made people sneeze.
Presumably most of my dreams are commercially sponsored, but I've simply been tuning out the plugs. This time, that's the only part I remembered!
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I like to dream about women and when I do, they usually have blonde hair. But in this last dream I was holding a picture frame in my hands, and in that frame was a photo portrait of a woman with very dark hair. She was quite lovely and right off the bat, I fell in love with her. But there was more to it than that. I could actually feel the picture frame vibrating, like the silent ring on a smart phone. I held the picture up to my face and I was certain that it would come alive and that I could talk to her through the glass frame. But it took too much concentration. Just when I began to perceive some slight movement in the photo, everything went black and I cursed my bad luck, shortly before waking up.
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I like to dream about women
If you ever have any of them in excess, could you please send some over to my dreams? I'll do the same for yours. I don't get them often, but occasionally they'll appear in a bunch.
You'll have to give me directions to yours, but getting to my dreams should be fairly easy. Just get lost, and then look for a fat guy who's as confused as you.
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If you ever have any of them in excess, could you please send some over to my dreams? I'll do the same for yours. I don't get them often, but occasionally they'll appear in a bunch.
You'll have to give me directions to yours, but getting to my dreams should be fairly easy. Just get lost, and then look for a fat guy who's as confused as you.
Dreams are funny.
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I had an unpleasantly sexy dream last night. I dreamed that a couple of black men came on to me. The first was somebody I know in waking life but haven't talked to in a few years, hope he's OK. In waking life he once told me about his own having to smack off a gay guy. Anyway, in this dream I had to get away from him. But then later someone who dream-identified as a black man tried to kiss me. I wrote "dream-identified", because sometimes I get that awareness in a dream that someone or something is such-and-such even though their description doesn't fit. In this case he looked like some, I don't know, space pig man, or pig space man. His body was human, but his head was dominated by a huge nose whose nostrils pointed straight out at me. Like an elephant's trunk but not so flexible. Anyway, I think he used that proboscis to kiss my face before I told him to get out of there.
This was all set as part of a depressing scene that had something to do with WFMU programming. The station in the dream had gotten into video streaming, but half the channels were unfamiliar to me and their contents were boring and unwelcome. I remember one program was a parody of Christmas programming, in which it was instead Easter and some cotton fluff was falling instead of snow. The whole dream gave me an impression of my not belonging there and being glum because of that.
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If you ever have any of them [women] in excess, could you please send some over to my dreams?
But could you make sure they're of age? Last night I dreamed about a little girl, like maybe 9YO, who was apparently deaf and mute, standing, who did a gesture in sign language consisting of bringing an index finger up in a bit of an arc to her lips, which I interpreted as, "I'm thirsty." Not knowing what she wanted to drink or even what I might be able to get quickly, I mouthed back to her, "Water?" She shook her head "yes". She grinned mildly throughout. I got her a cup of water.
She seemed familiar, not from waking life but from previous dreams. I knew I was dreaming, and thought I knew her as a recurring character from dreams. On awakening, I no longer thought that was true, but just one of these dream-familiarity things. But I could be wrong; maybe I've just forgotten that she was in previous dreams of mine.
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I dreamt that I walked into a house with absolutely no furniture and the walls were empty of any pictures, etc. The walls were a faded gold in color and the sun was shining brightly upon them. There was a ghost in there however, and I was sent into the house to make contact with it. I had a strong feeling that it was in an adjoining room, so I hailed it. GHOST! GHOST! GHOST! I yelled three times. Only in the dream, my voice was a hoarse whisper. "ghost. ghost. ghost." I never did see the ghost because I got too distracted with the state of my voice, and then I woke up.
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I dreamt that I was riding a bike through a violent thunder storm. There was lightning, thunder and sheets of falling rain. I was soaked to the gills. I pulled into the back of a department store and made my way through a stock storage area and onto some stairs. Every once in awhile, I'd come to a floor full of lets say, furniture and I'd go around looking at the stuff. Nobody, shoppers and management alike, seemed to mind about a sopping wet guy walking his bicycle through the store. I entered an office and there I was finally noticed. A manager type man took an interest in me and a sales lady associate examined the base of my neck. She announced that I had taken a blow to the back there, that I was probably hit by a falling branch or something and that I'd be suffering from memory loss.
The funny thing about this dream though, was that there was music playing in the background. Not department store music, mind you, but more like soundtrack music in a movie. It was a repeating piano tune and I still remember it as I type.
It went like this:
Da dink, da dee dink dink dink (followed by)
Da da dink a dink a dink dink dink. (and repeat)
Da dink, da dee dink dink dink,
Da da dink a dink a dink dink dink.
(Then the next part was just the same, only played at a higher octave, I believe it's called.)
Da dink, da dee dink dink dink (followed by)
Da da dink a dink a dink dink dink. (and repeat)
Da dink, da dee dink dink dink,
Da da dink a dink a dink dink dink. (Underlined notes were played slightly louder.)
There was also a backing rhythm of two beats playing in the background.
Ooomp Ooomp? Ooomp Ooomp? Kind of like that.
There, I'm glad I wrote this out. I'm sure as the day progresses, I would have forgotten that tune.
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This?
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This?
No, it wasn't the Hitchcock theme. It was an original tune. If I had to really reach, it might have sounded like a vague, piano rendition of The Entertainer, but still not really that close.