In My Brain While Sleeping… Camping Is Not A Good Time For Nightmares

This post could have easily turned into a Drunken Recollection, considering the amount of beers downed over my time camping.  As I explained to my sister, when I was on a cruise, I had documentation of how quickly I could finish a drink: every 15 minutes.  She didn’t believe me, so she checked the clock on her phone and timed me.  I didn’t rush.  I casually chatted and played ladder golf.  11 minutes.  I’m not proud.  Well, maybe a little.

Anylowenbrau, both nights while in my tent, I was awakened with a start.  Was it the booze?  Was it the location?  Who cares knows, but both dealt with unstoppable killers.

The first night’s dream started off okay.  It featured the lovely Julie Bowen.


I tried. She changed her number.

Sure, she was breaking up with me, but I was keeping calm.  I remember saying, “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t still love me.”  And she couldn’t.  So WIN!

Somebody was trying to interview me about my latest book, and we kept trying to move to quieter areas in the nightclub.  Eventually, we were in the alley, where my car was parked.  The trunk was open, and a sewer portal was running through it.

The interviewer spotted a mining cap and pick axe and reached for it.  I warned him not too, and that’s when this guy appeared:


Pote Snitkin cleans up pretty nice.

At least that’s the closest approximation of the horror that chased me.  And he would not stop.  At one point, I was on a roof top, and as he darted at me, he ran into a wall and fell over the side of the building.

Feeling safe, I proceeded to climb down the ladder not far from his crushed face and distorted body.  As I neared the ground, he smiled and started sitting up.  I woke up immediately.

The next night, my cousin’s stepson was telling me about this video showing the ghost of Michael Jackson.  People that know me and/or keep up on this site know how I feel about ghosts.  But I was determined not to let a ten year old see my eyes well up.  Luckily, upon returning home, I discovered this explanation of the “phenomenon”:

But it still didn’t help the fact that the second night, I had a dream I was driving around at night and saw a bunch of people running in the streets.  Cars were hitting people and they were flying everywhere.  I saw the UPS guy that brings PC deliveries to our office get struck, so I stopped my car to check on him.  As I did, a big zombie burly guy in a jump suit appeared behind me and shanked me – another one of my greatest fears.

This dream woke me in the middle of the night.  I had to pee, but I had no flashlight.  I went anyway.  It proves I’m a big boy.  I can handle anything.

Except MJ’s ghost…

Not good timing, at all...

Not good timing, at all...