11.24.2005

I , Salad Fingers, Made Alfred Hitchcock Who He Was

I had the funniest nightmare the other night. It wasn't the scariest dream I've ever had, by any means. But at the time I was experiencing it, it wasn't really all that pleasant. Once I woke up, however, it was much funnier than frightening.

The funniest thing about it was that it was inspired by Salad Fingers, the cute, odd, and kinda creepy animations which, strangely enough, were inspired by their creator's dreams. Check them out:

Spooons
Friends
Nettles
Cage
Picnic
Present

So anyway, in my dream, I discovered that the creator of Salad Fingers, David Firth, had actually based the character, Salad Fingers, on ME. I was Salad Fingers, to him. Oddly, upon realizing this, the entire world I lived in took on an eerie dream-like state (not surprising, perhaps, since I was dreaming) much like the world Salad Fingers himself inhabits.

But Mr. Firth had created Salad Fingers with very malicious intentions. He had it in for me, and his animating of me as Salad Fingers was his way of manipulating my world and causing misfortune to befall me. In the dream, I was existing in a partly flash-anitmated world, while also able to see the real world and Mr. Firth animating me, along with his entire family - who all hated me as well (I don't know why). I don't even know what David Firth looks like, but he and his family were in my dream nonetheless, and so my subconscious apparently just invented a human image of what I would perhaps expect him to look like. In my dream he was short, slightly stocky, perhaps even a tad chunky, with pale skin, guppie-like eyes, and curly, dirty blonde hair. (Had you asked me, while awake, what I would imagine him looking like - that is NOT how I would have described him - so I don't know where my subconscious came up with this guy to play the part of David Firth in my dream - but there it is).

Anyway, as I'm being manipulated into odd misfortunes in my gloomy flash-animated world in which Mr. Firth has trapped me, Alfred Hitchcock walks in to the room where David is sitting at his computer animating me. (I am viewing this as if they are giants appearing above me in the sky, while I'm bound to my world of computer animation - perhaps I'm peering out at them from a computer monitor...) Alfred Hitchcock speaks to David Firth, and I hear him say that he owes his entire career to me.

But he wasn't crediting me for his success. Mr. Hitchcock was BLAMING his career on me. I realized that this was an Alfred Hitchcock from a thread of reality in which he had NOT found success as a film director. Recognizing an opportunity, I somehow manifested myself as a real person in the room with them and began a sales pitch to Mr. Hitchcock.

I told him I knew a thing or two about photography and composition, and that I could help him set up his shots. I then gave him some ideas for memorable camera shots, which were actual cinematic moments he was famous for. And I then realized that these had actually been my ideas to begin with - and he had taken credit for them and gotten famous.

Of course, this set forth a time paradox, and sure enough - He did indeed owe his career to me - but as it turned out, it was his success that I helped create, by giving him the ideas to direct the films he had directed decades ago. And, upon waking, it was true - Alfred Hitchcock is now indeed a well-known director - thanks to me, and the dream I had the other night, in which Alfred Hitchcock visited me from the past, got some ideas, and altered this timeline.

11.19.2005

Odd Dream...

I had such a crazy dream. I was in some sort of dorm/apartment, it was mine, I was working on some arts and crafts of some sort, but the room was really oddly decorated. Very dim and colorful, I think perhaps what I want to get in my own room eventually. Anyway, I feel like I'm in some sort of weird parallel universe where I'm actually single, in some other college I have no idea about, in some dorm I have no idea about, but all of a sudden Paula (my current ex) comes into scene. I don't remember what we talked about, but I just remember feeling uneasy and continuing with my arts and crafts.

After a little while, I ran out to some festival/party that was happening outside the dorm, but it was like the summer festival in Japan during the evening. I somehow came back with some goldfish that I won and put them in my room into the aquarium that I happened to have. I again left the room and had to get through a lot of people, I kept running for some reason, I felt like I was running away or running to something. I finally made it to some sort of tennis court far from campus. Apparently it was a course many of the college students played at, and I proceeded to watch some people play into the late night. When it was about time for closing, I realized I had no bus to get back home, so I met a couple hot asian girls that happened to go to my school. They seemed interested in taking me home with them. It was a very weird conversation, too. I said that I needed a ride and it was late so I couldn't get back by bus, then the two girls smiled at me and told me they would take me home on the condition that they take me out somewhere and back to their place before I go home. I agreed and they grabbed me from my shirt collar playfully to lead me to their car. The End.

Interesting, to say the least. I have no idea why I dreamt this, but it certainly confused me enough to blog about it.

11.18.2005

Guest appearances..

Ok,
So madonna was in one of my dreams, for the second time, and she was totally my friend , love that!
Also, for the second time last night, I was on a great adventure in a taxi and ran into a huge group of people from my class in high school, people i have totally forgotten about. I even talked to them and they responded about real things going on in their lives;new babies,jobs, etc, people looked different, it was weird. i got back in the cab, bc I had lost my friends catching up with my old classmates and my cab fare was up to $49...I think I found them...the rest is blank..

A little background, alot of my dreams take place in huge arenas, coloseums, water, long winding hallways, many different paths, etc. Mainly pretty fast and confusing with alot going on around me.

11.15.2005

Tonga's Bathroom Woes

(Hi I'm new, Tonga invited me. Please bite/don't bite at your discretion)

This was one of those just-before-you-wake-up dreams and I'm struggling to write it out before it becomes a fuzzy memory.

There's a phone ringing in my apartment and it's Tonga calling to ask me to come help her out. Her bathroom is flooded and she can't get it to stop and she's panicky. We live in the same complex (in the dream, not IRL) so i pop down to her place where I find her in her huge bathroom frantically trying to push the water on the floor out of a window nearby. It was more like a sliding glass door then a window. But she was using her hands to try and push out the water which was standing about an inch thick on the floor. The room was tiled, large and more like a gym shower area than a bathroom.

I remember asking her why she didn't have a bathtub like mine because the shower area was just part of the whole room. I also remember feeling jealous that she got such a cool, big bathroom. Mine was dinky and had just a normal size tub.

Anyway, I looked around the floor and noticed there were fall leaves all over the place (but not near the shower area) and I asked her if it was possible the clog was due to the proliferation of dead wet leaves all over the place. She answered, "Hmmm... maybe." To me it seemed entirely logical that the leaves were the culprit but it seemed to come as a surprise to Tonya. But it didn't seem weird to either of us that the leaves were in the bathroom in the first place.

Weird.

11.12.2005

Dead - With Pleasure!

I had an extended dream last night in which Jay and I were Vampire Chasers. We weren't hunting and killing them, just chasing them in our SUV (á la Tornado Chasers) to get as close to them as we could.

It wasn't a nightmare, although the dream was very exciting and suspenseful at times. During the course of the dream, several of our friends were taken by vampires, and some were transformed and appeared later in the dream as vampires. Unfortunately, I don't remember the finer details of the bulk of the dream, but I do remember how the dream ended.

We parked our SUV on a country road where it disappeared into a very dark wooded area. Jay waited at the SUV while I ventured into the woods. The woods were so thick, that no light could penetrate the thick canopy of leaves. After a few dozen yards, I was feeling my way through pitch-blackness, and eventually came to a path which followed a draw leading away from the road. I turned to head back to the SUV, but before I could get to it, a procession of vampires came up the road towards me, cutting me off from Jay and our Vampire Chasing vehicle. I recognized several of the vampires as former friends, and one of them was Cynthia Stevenson (who played Joy Lass in the Showtime series "Dead Like Me"). She gave me a knowing smile, but I couldn't tell if it meant I know you're not one of us or Welcome to the fold.

Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I slipped into the procession and accompanied them down the dark path. We came to a large old barn which loomed darkly over us in the moonlight. It was the lair of the vampires, and the home of the Master. They called it the "warehouse." We went inside, and my mind was racing, waiting for the first opportunity to escape before I was discovered, a non-vampire among them!

We climbed several flights of stairs, and seated ourselves at a long table in a dimly lit room near the Master's chamber. Six or seven other vampires, most of them African-American and one Latina vampire, were seated at the table with me. Their skin all had a bluish glow, but I couldn't tell if that was because they were vampires, or because the room was lit with a hip, mod, 70s bluish-green light.

A pack of cigarettes was sitting on the table in front of us. We were all talking about going to the store to buy the Master another pack before he woke up. The Master's brand of cigarettes was F Rothethuk, printed with a very hip, mod, 70s design and typestyle with metallic brown, blue, and green packaging.

I was pronouncing them F. Rothethuks when an intellectual-looking vampire across the table, a black guy with black plastic frame glasses, picked up the pack and said, "I believe it's pronounced Frothethuk.

We all totally cracked up over him correcting my pronunciation - and then at the way I had been pronouncing the pack: effrothethuk. The laughter hadn't yet subsided when another vamp brother at the end of the table grabs the pack and says in a snooty faux French accent, "Actually, it's pronounced Beaujeaulais."

Well, this totally got us laughing even harder - so hard we could hardly catch our breath. But I managed to say, "Actually, I think one can pronounce it whatever one's perrogative is." This resulted in roars of laughter as the vampires pounded their fists on the table, tipped back in their chairs, and begged us to stop so they could catch their breath. And I thought to myself, they know I'm not a vampire, but they think I'm cool, so it's all good!"

Then I woke up.

11.11.2005

A long, long time ago...


I had this dream almost two years ago, well before the release of Star Wars Episode III. Here it is recounted in all of it's glory...


Sorry, but I couldn't find a bigger picture of Gary Busey. Actually, I had to reduce this one. I know you're pissed, but it will pass. That picture is pure two-dimensional intrigue. Why, for example, does he have such monstrous teeth? You could tile an entire bathroom with those things. And didn't I read somewhere that the moon landing was faked on Mr. Busey's nose? Thank God the picture is in black and white, `cause, you know, what if those colossal choppers were green? Or what if there were red and purple lights coming out of his nostrils?

Anyway, the main reason I set Gary Busey grinning at you like a 16-month old child with a soiled diaper is because of a dream I had one Saturday night. No, it was not a wet dream smartass. Those usually feature Marty Feldman or a one-armed dwarf. No, for some reason (more like for NO reason), my head had invented new scenes from a StarWars movie. My twisted mind gave me a third person perspective view of a handful of lightsaber wielding freaks running along a catwalk while dodging laser blasts. When they reached the end of the catwalk, they dove through a closing door (yes, it was probably a 'blast' door). My third person perspective resumed again on the other side of the door as the mutant Jedi took stock and caught their collective breath. "Anyone missing?" one Jedi asked. And, .....wait for it...., "Gary Busey," another Jedi answered. The name of some other poor missing soul was mentioned as well, but it was someone unimportant enough to leave no lasting impression upon my waking brain.

I guess the mental-movie-preview ended there, since my dreaming head did the unexpected segue thing, and I found myself in the mall, browsing at NerdShack. The store was packed with StarWars collectables, you know, the kind of thing only a hardened geek would love or purchase..... so, for some reason, there I am skimming the aisles aimlessly (my sub-conscious was probably looking for the Gary Busey Jedi doll *Move the lever in his back and his teeth grow!*). I remember fucking with a mutant stormtrooper helmet that had a large white spike sticking out of the top like a WWI German helmet. But the next thing I know, one of the store clerks is asking me to please come with him to the back of the store. Now since the clerk didn't look like a Marty Feldman dwarf, I figured I was being detained as a suspected shoplifter. Sure enough, when we reach the EMPLOYEES ONLY area, I get the "Empty your pockets" shit from the clerk. Since I haven't been stealing, I tell him to get fucked. As he picks up the phone to call the Mall Mounties, my alarm starts blaring and wakes me up.

One of my last thoughts as I'm slipping between sleep and awake, the thought that seems most important even now, is that it must truly and completely suck to spend the last moments of your unimportant, unmemorable life trapped on the wrong end of a blast door with Gary Busey.