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DREAM THREAD Part Pi.Pi!

I've been having dreams lately, but they've been too complex and I haven't remembered enough of a night to write any lately.

A few nights ago I was...someone...at a restaurant/cafe. Manager? Owner? Dunno. Anyway, I had a friend visit so I was treating them to lunch and the waitress was talking forever for the desert, which I remember specifically was a "Pepa Pig Peppermint Pie." So I just went and got us a couple slices of whatever was behind the counter. Later, in another part of the dream either I was billed for the pie we never got or she finally brought it to us. Or both. Seem to have a lot of dreams where I'm managing something that I have no real ability to manage.

That was a theme for the latter part of last night but now I've forgotten that, while some how now remembering the first bit of the dream, that I'd nearly forgotten when I woke up. With the recent anniversary of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy or whatever, I was on some kind of location shoot for a documentary or something and it must have been the 1980s. And there was some kind of producer (it doesn't make any sense, but this is the dream) and I happened to mention nobody has ever done a good costume of that character. At this point Douglas Adams (who died of a heart attack around 2000) is all excited and runs off to get some pictures or notes or something. I think his photo from the back of one of the books and points out that he used himself as the basis for the character I'm talking about. Who also happens to be the basis for the detective Dirk Gently. So there's a bit of a crossover/tie in/Easter egg between the Dirk Gently stories and the Hitchhiker's stories. It was really fun hanging out with Dream Douglas Adams and the rest of the gang.
 
Had one night before last that I was sitting in the passenger seat of the car of a friend of mine when he gets a phone call and starts talking on the phone. Problem is, this guy is originally from Bwoosten (translated: Boston) and does that talking-with-his-hands bullshit. Instead of driving the car. So the car's drifting back and forth over the center line, into and out of the path of oncoming traffic. This annoys me greatly, so I push him out of the car in the process of scooting over behind the wheel. To which he said the word, "Splat," as he was hit by an oncoming car.

Now I'm driving the car, except it still keeps drifting all over the road despite me holding the wheel steady. Come to a curve and turning the wheel doesn't turn the car. So the car jumps the concrete barrier, falls through the air, and lands in an alley between two buildings, one of which is a body shop. Some guy comes out of the body shop and starts yelling at me that I can't deliver the car in the back like that. Truly annoying.
 
Last night's dreams were fairly mundane and egocentric. I would not mention them except the 2 things that NEVER GET TO HAPPEN in my dreams happened in them.

First dream, I'm on some kind of 3 man SWAT/counterterrorism team. We all have M16 style platforms but one guy, that's his backup and he has a some kind of sniper rifle as his primary. And then I'm carrying parts for him--a second barrel and action or something. It really isn't clear. There's some kind of shooter setting up to do a mass shooting from some kind of rooftop turret, so we're maneuvering to get a shot at him. The sniper guy sets down his M16 comes over to where I am and wants my M16. So I go over to where he put his down. He's taking an awful long time to make a shot and I'm getting worried that pretty soon the bad guy is going to either notice us or execute his plan and start shooting at the crowd below. I feel like I've got a pretty good angle so I just start opening up on him. At this point I realize the back of his turret thing has armor too--and he's maybe got a helmet or something protecting his head. So I've got basically his shoulders and arms and a little of his side once in awhile that I can shoot at. And I'm blazing away to no effect. Eventually the team sniper starts shooting too and the bad guy has to abort his attack and go after us. Somehow, he's able to not only rotate his turret to shoot at us on the roof, but he's able to move without having to come out of his armor. I have no idea what the 3rd guy in our team is doing in all this. I think he just didn't have a good angle at the start. Maybe if the dream hadn't ended, he'd have been able to join in. So yeah, the gun had absolutely no (or minimal) effect, but it actually worked. Heck, it worked better than it should have, in that I was amazed I hadn't needed to do any magazine changes for the amount I'd been shooting. And truth be told, there are issues with the 5.56 NATO/.223's stopping power, so if I wasn't able to hit any vital organs, it isn't out of line to think I was hitting but not stopping the guy.

Next dream, I'm fucking. Just screwing the hell out of this girl. But that isn't enough, I've got to push it (and try to make her lose her mind), so I'm real sneaky-like, trying to get a finger up her butt (in preparation for going to 5th base, if you know what I mean). She catches me and wants to know what I'm up to and I sheepishly explain so she tells me she can't find her butt because I'm already fucking her butt. And that's when I woke up from that dream. Again, I NEVER get to have sex in dreams. The closest I ever get is everyone is naked and ready to get going and the phone rings or there's a knock at the door or something.
 
Had a weird couple of dreams this morning. Only remember a bit of the first one: I was sitting in somebody's living room (not mine) surrounded by naked women giggling and tossing live puppies at each other.

In the second one, I was in a house -- mine, fairly nice but not extravagant -- and I'm arranging dry goods in the pantry when I hear the door open. I figure that's weird, nobody I know knows I live here, and I don't know any of the neighbors. But rather than being alarmed, I'm just irritated at having to confront somebody who's probably just walked into my house by mistake. I go to walk out to the front room when somebody bumps into my knee.

It's a friend of mine from Tempe, but he's a dwarf. Now, in rl the guy isn't tall but not a midget either, like 5'5". Here he's barely 4 feet tall. Otherwise the same as he is in rl. I'm trying to question him about WTF happened to him, but he isn't talking, just trying to push me, except he's only pushing my knees. That's part one of this dream. Now he's gone, my front door is still open, so I go through the front room to close it. As I do, I notice that it's no longer sunny outside -- and it hasn't rained -- but it's grey, overcast, getting dark, and the parking lot which should be neatly paved is now the parking lot outside my rl place, which is basically dirt, and it's flooded as if it's just rained.

Then I hear clacking noises along the side of my porch, so I look over and see there are reanimated skeletons walking around on my porch. I go, "Hey! You fuckers can't be here! You're all fuckin' dead and shit! Get your dumb dead asses off my porch!" or words to that effect. So the skeletons want to start a fight, until I remind them they've got no muscles, tendons, or ligaments, at which point they fall apart in heaps and I have to go get a broom to sweep the fuckers off my porch with.
 
Its like a novel in here.

I woke up to the sound of a piano.
I don't have a piano.
But I almost texted a friend to ask if I did. In fact I almost texted 2 friends to ask if I had a piano.
Then I woke up to the sound of something falling and hitting the floor. (One of the cords by my bed usually) and the sound of being texted by a friend and an email from the local hospital about Coronavirus.
I have been home sick with only a common cold but not well enough to work.
I hate drug induced or sick induced dreams. That piano thing kind of has me creeped out.
I'm also sleeping with a humidifier and diffuser next to my bed for the first time. I am sure that is it.

Edit:
I looked at the time stamp of the messages-they were from 2 hours ago.
WTF did I hear?
 
Last edited:
Someone from the next dimension over?

The bit I remember from last night was, I suspect, just a transition scene in a dream that somehow morphed into the dream. I'm with a group of friends. So the model for the dream is probably early 1990s, but I think I'm an adult in it. We're going for a day of adventures, but we decide we need to duck into this restaurant to plan events. One of the guys comments that we always go to this place and I say something on the lines of maybe it is part of the plan for the day then.

The place is...tiered? Terraced? The seating starts high up near the back, where we are, and steps down as it moves in towards the center of the building. Someone announces that they won't be ready to start serving for another couple hours so you can come back or just wait. Up by the kitchen there's some discussion and apparently the problem is lack of wait staff, so if you want to come down you can help yourself to something. All my friends go but I sit tight because...I already ordered? I think I got some food just as they all got back with an assortment of pies and the French silk looked really good, so I decide to chance someone eating my food or taking my seat and go get in line for a pie. I'm trying to remember our table number so I can write it down so the bill will go to us. For a minute it passes my mind that if I just write down whatever number, I get free pie.

Oh, and about the time I'm getting up, I think I spot a girl I had a crush on in high school, sitting right next to us. Of course by the time I get back she's gone.
 
Had an unsettling one last night/early this morning. Dreamed one of my exes and I were getting back together, except I was my current age (44) and she was the age she was when we first got together (26) back in 1999. I was moving into a new apartment that was really nice -- 6 bedrooms, and the living room was an entire library. I was trying to figure out where the hell the kitchen was, except she and her (in the year 1999, 5 years old) daughter kept distracting me by asking me where things where when I hadn't found them myself yet. When it came to daughter asking where the bathroom was, and me realizing I didn't know, I realized I had to take a monster of a piss myself. That's when I woke up, having to take a monster of a piss.
 
OK. This was a long, rambling one. I almost forgot it on waking up, but one bit popped back into my brain and pulled the rest through: You know, when you stay over at someone's house for Thanksgiving/Christmas/a family reunion? It was kind of that, only the father figure was kind of Carl Weathers/John Amos as the dad on "Good Times." (Although me and pretty much everyone else that was there was white.) For some reason they wanted to park the Bluesmobile in front of the house and not only did they have an actual one from the 1980 movie, they had a replica I helped make (in the dream). And for some reason I decided to bring the A-Team van I made (IRL). So we had this big convoy of the Bluesmobile, a replica Bluesmobile, and the A-Team van. I remember checking in the morning that all the cars were still there, since none of them had modern door locks and I was worried someone would fuck with them.

Then, one of the kids I rode the bus with in high school--who was still around high school appearance in the dream--was checking out the van. Of course he immediately banged open the sliding door while I was telling him you can't bang open the sliding door. Because the stock van's door hinge isn't wide enough to clear the back fender flare. Luckily he didn't managed to do much visible damage. There was some thing or another he didn't understand but a bunch of us piled in and took it for a spin. Maybe 2 blocks into the drive, I realize there's, like, a 3 year old kid driving. So we quickly get him to pull over and put someone competent behind the wheel.

When we got back to the house, we found the cat had shit ALL OVER the room a few of us were staying in, so we're trying to clean it all up so as not to inconvenience our host. Then we come down and are sitting around in a living room, killing time watching TV until dinner or whatever is going to happen next. There's some girl around my age, a kid that looks a bit like Barron Trump or that kid from "The Sixth Sense," and me sitting on this couch. And the show on TV is some girl getting up to get ready for work while wearing this obscene 2' long red strap-on dildo that is bouncing all over the place. The kid is just ecstatic over this while me and the girl are kind of looking at each other like "we're adults, we should probably put an end to this but it *is* on TV and it *isn't* our kid..." Finally it gets too much and I grab the remote and change channels. The first thing is some kind of "Swamp Thing"/"Creature from the Black Lagoon" thing, only the production values, the monster looks like he's wearing a crocodile luchador wrestling mask. Of course there's absolutely nothing on and I really kind of want to go back to see what's next for the chick with the strapon, but I know I'm supposed to set a good example.

That's about when I woke up.
 
Mine was pretty boring last night. Dreamed I was the 12th Doctor, so I did what I've always wanted to see the 12th Doctor do -- went Malcolm Tucker on the Daleks. Other than that, wasn't anything to it. Except I think I made the Daleks cry, so that was fun.

EDIT: For reference:

 
Long-ish fairly pointless dream. I'm in college. Only instead of a dormitory, me and a bunch of guys from my college years are living in, like, this big shitty old house that got chopped up into apartments. I don't know if these are as much a thing now, but definitely around the early '90s. Big old Victorian place with long narrow stairways with cheap dirty carpet tacked to it, not enough lights, and everything generally cluttered. Well we go into the room I've been living in and someone else's stuff is there. We have a look at it before heading out to do whatever else we were doing. But later I need something so I decide to head up and see if it is in my old room--up the aforementioned narrow sketchy back stairway--and the new tenant is there. He's pretty friendly and I try to explain to him that he's in my room--although I think there's a subplot about the landlords being dicks and double-leasing rooms. But I'm careful not to tell him how I got in because otherwise he'd realize the key to his room works for the room next to his as well.
 
For the first time in...geez, probably since I was 9 or 10...I had a full-on straight-up nightmare. I have disturbing dreams that wake me up, but never the conventional "nightmare." Even this one wasn't 100% conventional. Call it 95%.

It was more like I was in an amusement park haunted house than an actual haunted house, because I was out in an open, well lit area--almost stagelike--with a dark, sketchy haunted house type set behind me. It was like I had my back to a bunch of people while on a stage, looking at the scenery "behind" me, upstage.

Then it was like the lights changed and an announcer said something and I knew the show was starting. And I'm like "crap," because I know next a kind of Linda Blair possessed demon kid is going to start doing scary fucked up shit in the haunted house area. But I haven't been paying attention to what I was doing and I'm standing in the actual set instead of out in the lighted space. And instead of warming up with the scary Linda Blair kid, they went right with the finale. This black hand shoots forward and grabs my ankle, yanking me to the ground. The hand is projecting from a sort of black vaguely human-shaped mound of...something. Garbage. A cloak. Fur. I can't tell. There's also a kind of black, leathery vaguely human face that may or may not have eyes that is facing me as the shape is trying to drag me off into the room.

I'm able to crawl backwards, but the thing is pulling its way up my body towards my face while I'm trying to get away or shout to get someone's attention but I can't. Eventually I managed some kind of half grunt shout as I woke myself up just before the thing finished me off.

Had some other dreams for the rest of the night. None were really disturbing in any way but I can't remember any of them.
 
Had a weird one last night. Well, sorta weird. I was riding through the city on a smallish motorcycle -- at 5'6" and down to about 140-ish now, I'm not a big bruiser of a dude, y'know -- and then for some reason I pull into this gas station where I've spotted this big fucking behemoth of a bike and decide I'll "trade" for that one instead. (Maybe too much playing GTA, I dunno.)

So I manage to barely get seated on the fucker, as in my feet barely reach the ground, and I god damn well know it's too heavy for me to manage it, but I'm still intent on taking it anyway, particularly when some kid runs out of the gas station, grabs the bike I rode up on, and tears off on it.

So now I'm stuck with this fucking whale of a motorcycle -- and the fucking thing won't start. Great. So off I go, sitting on it, sort of paddling it down the street with my feet like some wild-eyed Fred Flintstone fuck.
 
Had a brief nap this afternoon and had a dream wherein Trump had a new scandal surrounding him. A wormhole had appeared in the sky, and rather than people freaking out about that, people were freaking out over the fact that Trump had apparently forgotten the word 'wormhole', or maybe had said this as a joke, but referred to it as "a frickin' yuuuuje cosmic butthole." Media kept repeatedly running the clip of the Presidential address in which Trump had said those words.
 
I was walking along a beach, it was summer
Suddenly it was a celebration
and I walked onto a navy type ship
1/2 the ship was open as if a cruise ship-a day for public to come on board and take a look around, but 1/2 the ship was sand or actually open to the water, people were riding their bikes, buying drinks.
Of course I had to go to the bathroom or take a shower or something so I found one and of course when I came out of the bathroom or shower I was lost-like the door did not lead to wherever I was-but eventually I found one that worked.
I found a cute bartender to lead me to the beach to go swimming. (I've had dreams similar to this-in shopping malls and high rises, it often involves me getting lost) this is my first "ship" dream (wonder why I'm thinking about ships suddenly? [/sarcasm]
I cant' remember what happened after that-oh I think I was trying to flirt with the bartender-and it wasn't working. I failed at it.

2nd dream-my friend James
I went to visit him in his far off location and he had a gift for me
Probably because I talked to him earlier in the day and asked if there was anything I could send up for him and he said no.
It was a pleasant dream.
 
Lots of little dreams tonight, all strung together like an improv sketch, where they were all completely different, but some little thing at the end of the previous one segued it into the new dream. Don't remember most of them but...popping on the TV last night, a "Nash Bridges" rerun was on before I changed to the channel I wanted. Don Johnson was looking up his old retired partner because they'd had a murder that fit the M.O of the Zodiac Killer. Well my brain somehow latched onto that and I had a dream that this retired cop was helping me track down a Zodiac Killer copycat--on what may or may not have been a military base. He was going to go into this locker room to collar him and I insisted on coming with since, being retired, he wasn't armed. (Never mind that I'm not actually a cop so why would I be armed? Maybe I was a cop in the dream. I dunno.) So we get in there and there's 3 guys in there. And it turns out that it is like "Murder on the Orient Express," where they're all accomplices. We're trying to take them into custody although it's a fairly dangerous situation. Luckily I've got the .357. Unluckily, this is a dream, so of course it doesn't work. The hammer won't cock all the way back, it just flops around. The cop notices this and realizes there's no way the gun will work if we need it. So we're trying to manage this situation and it is getting out of hand. Luckily, it's a .357, so I just bash the hell out of the closest suspect, knocking him unconscious (and, I realize, possibly dead, since this isn't television, where you just tap someone on the back of the neck and they pass out until the police arrive). This apparently gets the other two in line and I hope I was right and the guy on the ground was actually one of the killers because then I'm probably in less deep doo-doo than I currently am. Because it wasn't like he took the first swing, I was just like "shit, we've got to even the odds a bit here."

Then I'm definitely on a military base--and apparently in the military. But I've got some kind of man purse that has not one but TWO personal firearms in it. And The Authorities are searching for drugs or something that was stolen or something. I didn't do that, but I know I'm in big trouble if they look in my bag. There's not 1 but 2 close calls before the commanding officer brings me into his office because he thinks I have the contraband. I cautiously explain the guns and am relieved that he's apparently OK with that. So now we've just got to manage to "search" my murse without any flunkies seeing the guns, because they'd have to arrest me.
 
This morning I dreamed that I was out of Golden Grahams so I had to have granola for breakfast. Which was surprising to me, because yesterday morning I was pretty sure I had one more bowl of Golden Grahams. When I got up for real, I was mildly surprised to see that I still had a box of Golden Grahams, which I just finished off before typing this.

They can't all be amazing. /shrug
 
I have been having dreams, but they've been too strange and disjointed to remember. Or the bits that I do remember, there isn't enough to make any kind of narrative...BUT... I did have a coherent one this morning.

I'm hanging out in a bar with a few Rat Pack/mobster types because apparently Frank Sinatra is my godfather and his birthday is coming up and I want to get him something but don't know what. I tell them I have to leave to go to Catechism (Catholic Sunday School) and they kind of laugh at me and say they thought that was for kids. I realize they have a point and that I've been going for way more years that I needed to.

Then we needed to sneak Frank(?) (someone so I assume it was Sinatra, but who knows in dreams--also where'd the "we" come in?) out of his place before the cops get there. The other guy bustles Frank into his nice fancy camper van while I head for my A-Team van (which is much more decrepit in the dream) just as the cops come screeching in. I go in the driver's side but realize I've left the door on the other side down. Because now the interior is a DC-3 with one of them fold-down step things. Cop pokes his head in and sees I'm the only one in there so he goes back to his car to report and I close the door. Then I realize they can still get in through the cockpit windows (which are now like the bubble canopy on a helicopter--or the bombadier's nose of a WWII bomber). They decide they need to talk to me, so I'm trying to hold the window latch shut while using my key to unlock the controls. I can't find the right key, but I manage to get the keyhole to turn, but then the controls won't work. I've got to push this lever to the right and then push the starter button for each engine after the indicator shows that the fuel is on (and now the van that turned into a DC3 is even more like a B24 bomber or something because it has 4 propeller engines instead of 2). I push the button and the first engine turns over but it won't catch because I used the wrong key so it didn't fully unlock the controls and moving the lever, one of the linkages didn't move with it. This attracts even more attention from the cops and there's only so long I'll be able to hold that door/window shut. To make matters worse, at this point in the dream I realize I don't actually know how to operate a DC3 or a B24.

But at least Frank got away in the other van. And they really don't have much they can charge me with.
 
Had one last night that was like a 1980s movie. I was part of a group of people in some South American banana republic. A couple of us got arrested by the police on trumped up charges, but one good local cop(?) turned us loose on our way to the jail. There was various other corruption and shennanigans during our time there. Eventually it was time to leave. As we're getting ready, me and another guy had to go get some informer and bring him back to go to America for...charges?...and one of the guys went to find the cop who helped us out. He'd been trying to track him down for some time and after he headed out, one of the other guys came by and pointed out that if he was able to find the guy, the authorities had been able to find *him* and that we'd probably be leaving without either of them. Then the charter bus to the airport pulled up and whoever was in charge told us to act like we were knew what we were doing because nobody knew what they were doing so we'd have to be our own experts--basically that the bus driver was an idiot. Pretty much everyone is through the door and piling into the bus but I've got way more stuff than will fit in my luggage--or than that I can carry. A couple of kids held back to help, but I told them to leave because I didn't want to be responsible for anyone getting left but myself. Pretty soon I realized that I was alone and if I didn't leave soon there was a danger that I wouldn't know where to go (because the dream had changed so now it was more like finding your way in an office building or an airport or something than going to a bus that was parked outside). I think I'd just come to the conclusion to just leave everything that wasn't packed when I woke up.

Oh, and the kids were advising me on stuff to take and it was all stupid like "take the strawberries. Strawberries are good. Take the vacuum cleaner, you'll need that," and I wanted to tell them that I could buy a new vacuum cleaner and strawberries. But I was also asking one of them to help me get a winter coat on so I didn't have to pack/carry it.
 
Last night was like some kind of variety/comedy show from the 70s. Lots of little, unrelated dreams. Only one I remember is because RL keeps jerking it back to my conscious: I'm at some kind of cliff with a bunch of acquaintances and tourists. There's like, a 3-5 year old kid on the retaining wall for the cliff and he's being a stupid 3-5 year old kid and ducking under the railing (it's like, a road on a mountain with a big wide 3' high stone wall with a low railing mounted on it). I'm trying to get the parents' attention--or anyone close enough to the kid but I can't get in a word edgewise. Sure enough, the little bastard slips and falls hundreds of feet while everyone drops what they're doing. I'm like "No point in looking down, because he's dead." But somehow he landed in water and someone down there says he's OK.
 
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