Black Cat Bone

harvey k-tel wrote:I wonder if your dream friends would have died if you weren't able to give them Liberty.

Probably would've just played dead.

So my wife and I are at the movies and these foreigners (Americans) seated nearby are talking and laughing a little too loudly and get a shhh! from a few rows ahead but they continue making noise. To teach these foreigners some manners this tough yakuza-type Japanese guy gets up and so everyone in the theater can hear he starts loudly cursing at them right in their faces. But then from the small group of foreigners bravely rises this out of shape nerd dressed in a ridiculously baggy Batman costume to confront the "yak". And it looks like it's curtains for the hero nerd when suddenly from scattered seats all around the theater rise other stupidly costumed nerds. And then rise other yaks. A yelling and pushing melee breaks out between the two groups in front of the movie screen. I then realize this is all a put on like a Rocky Horror flash mob event and I'm loving it. I have a big dopey smile on my face when I myself am confronted by a yak. But because I now know it's all a joke I'm not worried when the tough guy reaches down, grabs my shirt front and pulls me up from my seat and flips me into the row ahead. Then I woke up - on the floor.

I'm hanging out with Mike Myers and (the late) Maurice Gibb, as one does. Maurice looks exactly like he did in this clip; Mike looks pretty much like Wayne Campbell.

Somehow, between the three of us we decide to rob a bank, just for a lark - using a sword. (I do have this sword in real life. It was purchased for me from a hotel gift shop in Madrid, circa Christmas 1974. It actually looks pretty impressive, provided you don't know much about swords.) The three of us go to the bank - it's a HUGE bank, taking up much of the first floor of this HUGE office building - it looks almost like an airport terminal in there. I realize that this caper of ours absolutely cannot work, and I'm pretty sure my famous accomplices know it as well - and yet it feels like we just can't back out now, we have to go through with this silly thing, or at least give it a try. Carrying my sword rather as one would a walking cane, I go up to one of the many tellers and say something along the lines of "this is a hold-up"; cool as a cucumber, the teller says "I'm sorry, sir, but you'll have to speak with Mrs. ________ about that [presses button under the desk to alert the cops] - just stand over there, and she'll be with you as soon as she's available."

Leaving my sword on the floor in front of the teller window for some unconscious reason, I go and stand "over there" with Maurice and Mike and we wait politely, knowing perfectly well that we are doomed. Looking out the windows we can't help but notice police and bank personnel stationing themselves at every building exit, with stern and determined visages and postures.

At the far end of the bank, I see an interior door leading to the rest of the first floor of the building. Inexplicably sensing some vague chance, I yell "RUN!!" and we do.

We run to the elevators, sure that the fuzz are already following us, throw ourselves into an available car and press "5" and "DOOR CLOSE". At the fifth floor we get out and cleverly run to the stairs and down to the second floor (figuring the cops will be busy looking for us on the fifth floor). So far, so good, but now what? The only exits out of the building are on the first floor, and the police are watching all of those...

We carefully sneak down the stairs to the first floor and try to scope out the situation. Suddenly we see my boss (and dear friend) Dave, carrying some bags and about to leave the building. Somehow Maurice and Mike know Dave too, and a light bulb goes on over our collective heads - we'll exit the building with Dave, acting like everything's normal. It's so crazy it just might work! We approach Dave, greeting him, making small talk etc. etc., going out the door casually as you please. Halfway across the parking lot, the paranoia reasserts itself and I yell "RUN!!" again, and Maurice and I sprint off leaving a confused Dave in our wake and also losing Mike, who runs in a different direction.

Maurice and I run and run and run, into a residential neighborhood of nice middle class houses, and obviously there's no Plan B, no Plan Anything, we're just running aimlessly through this neighborhood. 'Long about this point I'm thinking that the SECOND stupidest thing I did today - after deciding to hold up a bank with a sword - was to run away. I never even brandished the sword! I probably could've bullshitted the police easily enough - pointed out that the sword was just something from a hotel gift shop, the blade isn't sharp and the tip is covered with a plastic protector - I'd just been showing it to my friends here, and forgot that I was still carrying it when I entered the bank! I'm sure I could've persuaded them that the teller misheard me, and why on earth would two wealthy celebrities like Maurice Gibb and Mike Myers be having anything to do with a bank robbery anyway? and so on. But it's too late for that now - now I look guilty as hell - I am guilty as hell! - and they have the weapon with my fingerprints all over it. They probably know by now who I am and where I live, and they're gonna be asking my 87-year-old dad a lot of questions and he's going to be bewildered and heartbroken... (Not to mention that I'm also pissed off about losing this sword that I've had for forty-four years!)

Right about then (Maurice and I are still running for our lives), my phone dings and I fish it out of my pocket. There's a text from Dave. "I still need to pick up my clothes from the cleaners" it reads - clearly, he expects this to matter to me somehow, and I try to puzzle it out as I run but I'm flummoxed. Maybe he's still in the parking lot waiting for us to come back so he can give us a ride?


Then I wake up. (Which is more than poor Maurice Gibb can say!)

Bloody hell Charlie! Less cheese?

The other night I had a dream that I was directing an erotic film in a tuberculosis hospital.All the stars were gaunt, grey and clad in flowing white hospital gowns. On all fours, a woman being humped from behind reaches orgasm and hacks up globs of phlegm onto the floor. Around her everyone else does the same and fills the sputum buckets.
Bizarre.

Did the dream take place in Oklahoma by any chance?

i dreamed I was in a city when a group running a marathon passed by. Excitedly I joined the back of the pack, but lost my way and took a wrong turning. A helpful passer-by pointed where they'd gone, but I couldn't find them. So I went shopping instead.

Last night I had a dream my stepmum had a baby (she is 70). She gave it to me for a couple of nights and I put it in a zip up sports bag in the spare room and forgot about it. I suddenly remembered and ran over to it two days later freaking out. Initially it was blue but then I fed and warmed it and it started coming to life. Unfortunately it had terrible nappy rash and pressure sores. I asked my (real) Mum who was randomly there what I should do. ‘Forget about it’ she said, which seemed like terrible advice.

Thread should just be called dreams. All dreams are weird. All.

Last night I had a dream that I had a cider drinking competition with brotherlouie. Then I went to see Duran Duran, who were awful, and there were only 20 people in the audience. They kept having costume changes between songs, and coming out dressed as Scott of the Antarctic and Richard Arkwright and all sorts of nonsense.

I was in what seemed to be a posh house or maybe hotel where a bunch of celebrities were gathered for some event which involved interviews. I called dibs on interviewing Burt Reynolds but I could only think of dumb questions like what were his favorite action movies and questions about being a man, and I got shouted down anyway and didn't get to ask him anything. Later I notice Rob Halford eating with someone at a small table and I wait until he's alone to go up and talk to him. Unfortunately just as I start to approach him he gets up and walks into a restroom so I'm standing behind him while he's taking a whiz and telling him how much his music means to me, and he's basically ignoring me. Later, "Cars" by Gary Numan starts playing and I'm enjoying it but kind of self-conscious 'cause I don't know what Rob Halford thinks of the song.

Last night I had a dream that I was waiting at the airport to go on holiday to Japan on my own, but Baron didn’t want me to go so he said he had indigestion and I shouldnt leave him. I gave him some Tums and got on the plane.

REM Sleep Behavior Disorder
https://www.webmd.com/sleep-disorders/g ... r-disorder

I haven't been diagnosed by a doctor yet but according to the internet I have it. And my wife has me laughing like a fool - while I'm asleep - on her smart phone.

I have been having the most vivid dreams ever and I laugh, kick, hurl myself out of bed, feel poked and prodded. It's kind of a gas, actually, but it could mean Parkinsons Disease in a few years - - or not. The internet says to move my bed away from windows and to sleep alone in case I start punching or kicking my sleep mate.

I was on a group trip to visit Emperor Hirohito, only he was in a wheelchair and was head of state in the Czech Republic. Angela Merkel was our goddamn tour guide.

I dreamed I was back in the house where I grew up having a chat and coffee with some friends. At the same time my father was digging up the back yard complaining about the stench. He said something about how I had once taken a shit back there and it still stunk and that I should come and help him. I left my friends and went outside and the stink was really putrid. I picked up a shovel when suddenly it felt like someone shoved me hard, two-handed in the back and I woke up. The physicality of the shove felt as real as a real shove in the back. That, and actually smelling that smell, I think, is a symptom of the REM Sleep Behavior Disorder.

Night before last I dreamt one of Baron’s cousins was furious with us because we polished the floors of her house with beef fat made from a cow that was endangered. Then my Dad tried to drown me

I had a dream that Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran was making an ice sculpture portrait of me and he was sat astride the ice really going at it with a big hammer.

Minnie the Minx wrote:I had a dream that Nick Rhodes of Duran Duran was making an ice sculpture portrait of me and he was sat astride the ice really going at it with a big hammer.

Filth!

It was strangely erotic! Though I recall he said he was ‘having to take a longer time to do my nose.’
He can talk, the big nosed twat!

I dreamt last night that we were at the NY JU and Mrs Prof was crying because she didn’t want to be there, so Prof took her to a Blues Brothers show. Eventually everyone arrived and started drinking vodka at 10am. I said this was too early, even for me. Husker Du were there and said that they had been posting on BCB for years but nobody knew it. This was pretty amazing stuff and we all cried .