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.