In My Brain While Sleeping… Drugs, YouTube, Annoying Hosts, And Soup

Okay… I wasn’t going to post this dream, but it hasn’t stopped me before.  You may wish that I’d stuck to my guns, but I misfired.

The bulk of the dream consisted of the introduction of a new drug called something like Avilify.  Basically, by taking this pill daily, your body maintained a homeostatic temperature that kept you comfortable whether you were in 110° F or -10° F (sorry, but I don’t know Celsius).  Another feature of the product was you only needed six hours of sleep per day.  You couldn’t sleep more and you couldn’t sleep less.

avilify-copy1

Ask your doctor all about it! Because we sure won't tell you what it does in the commercials!

While this is all fine and dandy as far as dreams go, the part I’m leary to bring up is… well, Ryan Seacrest and I became friends.

How that came to be was I was the head of marketing for Avility, and he was to be the spokesman.  We ended up making YouTube videos of him mocking celebrity advertisements, like the film Crazy People did.

Example: 

ryancampbell-copy

What my Grandma used to make me eat.

In effect, his popularity soared even more, and I made crap loads of money.  Avilify changed my life!

In My Brain While Sleeping… Friday The 13th Reboot (My Version)

Hello.  Sean here.  (So am I.)

Oh yeah, that’s my brain.  Say hi.  (Hi.)

In the midst of my many snoozes, it occurred to me that the new Friday the 13th remake isn’t sticking to its source material.  (How’s that?) 

In the original film, Jason Voorhees was not the killer.  His mother was.  (Should you have put a spoiler alert?  Someone may not have wanted to know this.)  She avenged his alleged drowning while in the hands of irresponsible, sex-crazed teens.  Starting withthe second film, he avenged the death of his mother.  In the third film, he starts wearing the hockey goalie mask (it’s based on one from the 50’s Detroit Red Wings).

If this film is a sequel, it’s ignoring the last few films in the series, whereas if it’s a remake, it’s ignoring the first film.  If it’s a reboot, then how does Jason come to be?  Well my dreams may have found the answer.

He's such a cut up.

He's such a cut up.

  • The first dream between snoozes involved a golf cart on a log raft that tipped over and sunk into Crystal Lake.
  • The second dream involved a girl crossing the lake with a boy, and then boy jumped out and swam to shore.  More ridiculous versions of this continued until my conscious (and subconscious) met…
  • (NOTE: I was going to reference as many versions of the dream as there were sequels, but quite frankly, they were pretty repetitive… just like the films!)
  • In the final dream that woke me up, Jason Voorhees came to be like this:

On one side of Crystal Lake was a fat camp, and on the other side was a sports camp.  A chubbier girl would meet with one of the guys and they would get it on in the sports camp.  The guy was a real dick and he’d laugh to all his friends about how she keeps coming back for more.  Through the summer, she loses no weight, and in fact puts on more… because she’s pregnant.  When she reveals this to the boy, he breaks up with her.  All his friends sabotage her boat while they argue.  She asks him for a keepsake and he gives her one.  At the center of Crystal Lake, her boat becomes waterlogged.  As she sinks, welcoming her death, she clings to her keepsake – the boy’s goalie mask.  Jason is the supernatural son she never had (?) and he seeks revenge against anyone who visits his lake, while wearing his daddy’s face mask.  The end.  (Or is it the beginning?)

Tah dah!  (Tah dah!)

What a weird dream, btw.  (Any time!)

In My Brain While Sleeping… Sex Dream Fail

I’m not that lucky in life when it comes to the ladies, so you’d think my subconscious would make up for it at night, right?

I was living in L.A. again, working at a super-sized version of Best Buy that felt a little more like a Costco, so maybe it was at a Costco that had a Best Buy-styled electronics department.  Anywarehouse… it was before the holidays, and I was helping a woman locate a copy of “Little Miss Sunshine.”

As I rounded the discount bins, I spotted her:

Gosh, golly, gee, she sure is purdy

Gosh, golly, gee, she sure is purdy

I made some comment that the woman I was helping was looking for one of Amanda Bynes’ movies (she wasn’t in “Little Miss Sunshine,” but see my previous posts about my failing mental functions), and she perked up and walked right up to me.  Well, she sort stumbled toward me.

She smiled that winning grin: “You’re hot.”

I was taken aback by her candor.  “Well, so are you.”

The shopper reminded me that she needed to find that DVD for a Christmas present.

Amanda stepped stumbled closer to me.  It became clear to me she was more than a little tipsy, and since she’s seems like such a sweet girl in real-life, I’ll sugar coat her speak from here on out: “I wanna fudge you.”

The woman’s jaw dropped.  Who knows what my face looked like.  She sidled up to me and slipped her arm around my waist, resting her head on my shoulder.  “Will you take me home?”

The woman rushed off to complain to my manager, and my manager being the awesome manager he must have been (or maybe he was a complete apple), assessed the situation and sent me home.  So I resided to the fact of driving Ms. Bynes back to her place.  As we made our way to my vehicle, she announced that her mother and brother were with her, and I’d also have to drive them.

En route to her abode, she stared at me from the passenger seat, hazy and wobbling.  Her mother and brother argued in the back seat.  Upon arriving at their apartment building, we ascended a wide spiraling staircase to find that they had no furniture – only matresses spread out all over like some heroin den.  She invited me inside.

At this point, I already began the betrayal of myself, and sought out to only get her cell phone number as she lead me to her Serta perfect sleeper.  “Yeah, I’ll have to get your number so we can hang out sometime.”

As she rested on her springed laurels, she started saying a string of numbers.

“That’s too many for a phone number.”

“I’d put good money on it that your better than Justin.”

“Justin?”

“Timberlake.  I bet you fudge better.”  (NOTE: That sounds grosser than it should.)

“How about I give you my number, and then you can call my cell and I’ll have your number.”  I fiddled with my mobile and started reciting my ten digits.

She stood up and leaned her back against the wall.  She slipped the strap off one of her shoulders revealing her right muffin.

“I should really get going.”

And I woke up.  Brain, why do you forsake me even when I’m sleeping!?

INGREDIENTS: Four tall Coors Lights and half of a three-day old cajun crust pizza.

JusWondering… Tony Danza – Better Oscar Host Than Hugh Jackman?

This could have been In My Brain While Sleeping, but it may have occurred to me more as I was waking up: Tony Danza, famous for playing characters named Tony, should host the Academy Awards this year instead of Hugh Jackman.

Not to knock Wolverine off his high horse, but I think it’s time for this amicable, consummate entertainer to get his crack at another day.   Sure, “The Tony Danza Show” had it’s many flaws, but what about “Taxi” (the show not the flick)?  Who can forget the gender battleground that was “Who’s the Boss?”  And then there’s, um, always “Hudson Street“…

Plus, he’s been in film, and that’s a requirement to host the Oscars (David Letterman squeaked by with a cameo in “Cabin Boy“).  I’ll always remember Tony’s stunning performance in “She’s Out of Control!”

So in the end, do you want this?

When you can have this?

Reporter lady – what do you think?

In My Brain While Sleeping… Watchmen Anxiety

In case you’ve been living under a rock or in a coma (which in the cases of you really being a hermit or a recently awakened patient, then I’m sorry about the sarcasm), next March may or may not be the month that “Watchmen” gets marched out (see what I did there with the, um, doubling months thing).

There’s still a lawsuit pending between Fox and Warner Bros. over the rights to the story, but little did I know how much this affected me.  All night I dreamt about this movie.  My brain tried to convince me it was going to be crappy, too.  I saw images of the film being projected on screen as though it were still a comic book graphic novel.

It was comparable to this:

(from DarthsandDroids.com)

(from DarthsandDroids.com)

Or even worse, the first “Hulk” flick

What follows at the bottom of the post is the most recent preview for “Watchmen.”  It can’t be bad, can it?  Like “Sin City 2” “Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow 2” “The Spirit” level bad?

All I’m saying is Fox better not fuck this up for me… I don’t know if I can take more nights of tossing and turning and seeing the Comedian so sad (he’s the guy with the moustache at the start of the preview).  The kicker is Fox doesn’t even want shared profits – they don’t want it released!  Fox owes me for cancelling many-a-splendid shows, such as “Arrested Development,” “Firefly,” “Futurama,” “The Tick,” and “Profit.”

They sure as hell better not cancel “Watchmen.”

In My Brain While Sleeping… Sacrilege X-Treme!

Yesterday, I had a snow day.  Yes, adults can have them to… when they’re lazy.

Michigan had a huge snow fall, so all I did was sit on my couch all day, laptop in, um, lap, reading and milling about.  I almost forget to eat about midday, and when I stood up from the couch, my legs weren’t ready to work and I’ll fell back again.  They were sleeping… I guess they were just being lazy and took a snow day too.

Anyhardsalamisandwich, I finally ate a hard salami sandwich and returned to the couch for the rest of the eve.  At a very late hour (10:30ish if I recall), I opted for some cake (see below).  Not too long after, I brushed my chompers and opted for bed.  (Did you know that I brush my teeth with a hair brush?  I goes much quicker.  Ha!  No, I don’t.  I fooled you.  But I do use a swatch of human hair.)

In my slumber, I had a mess of messed-up dreams.  Here’s the snippets I recall:

  • Vampires.  It was fucking scary as hell, and all I know is I was one too.  There were various forms and sizes that you could only see if you were a blood-sucker, and it answered my question of, “why would anyone say they wouldn’t want to be a vampire?”  I’ve been asking my friends this lately, and some say they want to die (to which I said a stake would work) and some said they didn’t want to outlive their loved ones (to which I brought up the benefit of turning your loved ones undead as well).  But srsly… this one was wicked.  It woke me up in the wee hours of the morning, like at 1am.
  • Dog Baptism.  I don’t remember much other than the brouhaha surrounding the church when this plan was going down.  It was a golden retriever (a Sandy shout-out), but I’ve never had one.  (We had two mini mutts, a mini schnauzer, a cairn terrier, and mini daschund – little dogs, little poop + no crotch shots).  I feel like the walls started crumbling down as beams of light shone through the stain-glass windows.  It could have been reporters for all I know.
  • Spaghetti Sauce Made With Ice Cream.  A friend was showing me how to replace butter and milk in a recipe for spaghetti sauce (as you can guess, I have no idea how anything is made).  He used a lot of French vanilla ice cream and threw black and bell corn pepper into a container of it, then he mixed it with an equal amount of tomato sauce.  It looked nasty, but I never got to taste it.  A few things to note here: I dream way too much about spaghetti.  Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy it, but it’s not like I’m obsessed with it.  And why is this sacrilegious?  It’s a waste of perfectlygood French vanilla ice cream… which I’m obsessed with.
  • Unnatural Childbirth.  In the future, a woman swallows a device called Point A.  Point B is then placed on a rolling poll, much like I.V. drips, and positioned accordingly between her legs.  Point C and D (which look like Point B) are placed to the left and right of her womb.  Point E is under her table, and Point F is on a movable arm above her belly, like a light at the dentist.  A doctor managing a computer checks the coordinates and engages the devices.  A portal appears beside him which contains the child.  He scoops the small one out, snips and ties the umbilical cord, and hands the baby to the nurse.  He disengages the portal and hands the newborn over to mother.  No cesarean section nor vaginal tearing.  It’s not really sacrilegious either, but do you think this kind of technology will get an easy pass from fundamentals?  Doubt it.

INGREDIENTS: Pepperidge Farm Fudge Stripe 3-Layer Cake that was best if used by December 10th, which was the third item I tried to eat in the last two days that was expired.  The others were a plastic box of lettuce and a bag of grilled chicken (I planned to make chicken and salad when I bought them two weeks ago).  Oddly, the lettuce smelled like ass although it didn’t look rotten (for being a week overdue), and although the bag o’ chicken expanded like it had botulism or something, it did not smell, so I ate it.  (In case you didn’t know, I you buy a bag of any food and it expands, that means bacteria is growing inside… it’s some report I saw… I think…) 

Back to the chicken for a second – since I wasn’t in doubt (although I was, but it was minor), I didn’t throw it out.  I put it in the mickyfor two minutes, and since I had no idea what to eat it with since I had no lettuce, I threw shredded mozzarella on it and Italian dressing anyway.

Now back to that cake – even though it doesn’t say so (check the pic below), I’m beginning to wonder if it was actually devil’s food cake.

Too rich for my boiling blood... in hell!

Too rich for my boiling blood... in hell!

In My Brain While Sleeping… The Bald And The Bug-tiful

Hubba Bubba (A gum created in 1979)

Hubba Bubba (A gum created in 1979)

Is Xenu in here?

Is Xenu in here?

Any dream involving a portion of the cast of “That 70’s Show” should be kind enough to include Mila Kunis.  This dream did, but the Brothers Masterson did they’re best to keep her from me.

 

I was visiting New York City, and I was wondering Times Square.  I stumbled upon a falafel shop and Danny and Christopher Masterson were manning the window.  They had aprons on and spatulas in their hand.  I approached and saw Mila in the background, slaving away at the fryer.

“Hey fellas,” I began.  They nodded like they knew me.  Mila rushed toward the front, but they held her back.

“Help get me out of here!  It’s a trap!”  (I think this comes from watching “Empire Strikes Back” over Thanksgiving weekend on Spike.)

The Brothers Masterson slammed the windows shut, and there were no visible doors.  As I hurried up and down the street searching for an entrance, I ran into him – Mr. Demi Moore himself, Ashton Kutcher.  He had a knit cap on and tried calming me down.

“Relax,” he said.  “I’ll help you get in there, but you have to do one thing.”  He paused.  “You need to find me a cool new hat.”  He took a step back and removed the winter garment from his head, revealing this:

...yikes...

...yikes...

It suddenly started raining hats, like in that car commercial where it rains shoes.  I found a nifty green pimp hat, handed it to him, and we were off on our way.

Turds of a feather...

Turds of a feather...

Then I was suddenly a cockroach.  But I could walk and talk.  I sounded sorta dopey, as did my one other buddy, Ralph.  It was a lot like “Joe’s Apartment,” which I have not seen since 1996, and coincidentally one of the roaches in that shares the same name.

My roach pal and I were caught in some kind of laboratory we were trying to escape, a la “Secret of NIMH.”  Adventures were had, and it culminated in a final battle with the scientist.  He was all that stood between us and freedom.  Ultimately, every cockroach but me enveloped him and devoured him, like how Professor Screweye died in “We’re Back! A Dinosaur’s Story.”  Since I could not find video of that – this will have to do:

In My Brain While Sleeping… My Job As A David E. Kelley Show

fyvushfinkel

The second job I ever had was at a medical center for a major hospital (my first job was at a toy store).  I worked there just over six years, and the staff saw me through two graduations and a move from Detroit to L.A.  In this dream, I had returned to the facility (which no longer exists in real-life).  It was in the same location but major remodeling updates had occurred, such as having wood floors throughout, an updated kitchen, and forest green walls with better than average art hanging on them.

I remember walking through as if it was filmed, and it felt like a David E. Kelley show (“Boston Legal,” “Ally McBeal,” the awesome “Chicago Hope,” “Picket Fences,” “L.A. Law,” home sex movies with wife Michelle Pfeiffer).

I was the generic perspective guy through whom the viewers relate.  I kept checking out the new looking digs, expecting a big homecoming, trying to run into people that might have remembered me.  I saw a few doctors and medical assistants I knew, but they were busy heading between rooms.  Otherwise, through the back hallways, I encountered new faces that were basically upgrades of people that came before.

The show jumped into action once I reached the front desk where I worked as a customer service rep.  My uncles, Fred and Richard, were doctors for some reason, and Danny Glover (pictured below) was a special guest star.

The scene went like this: Doctor Uncle Fred brought me the billing sheet for one of his patients.  The patient had a co-pay of $5 which my uncle knocked down to $3.  Doctor Uncle Richard stepped in to pay the remainder, to help the guy out.  I guess he was an old friend of the pair that had fallen on hard times.  The man also had his two moppet sons with him.

Danny Glover, a fellow CSR, took issue with it.  “I don’t care if it’s hard times or not!  You have to do what you must!  You stop buying the fancy things you don’t need.  You make bread instead of going out and buying it.  You fish instead of going on vacation!”  After the patient left, someone informed Danny that the man lived in a car with his sons.

Cut to: Fyvush Finkel (pictured above – a Kelley recurring player).  He’s an older doctor that’s just been told his wife of 50 years is leaving him when we meet him.  Also, she’s stolen all his belongings and money.  He clutches a forest green wall in disbelief.  The hallway he’s in seem to converge and narrow as he stumbles down it toward his office.

Cut to: me at the front desk trying to remember how to do things.  When I was there before, it was all on paper.  Now everything was digital.  A patient came in that had a specimen to deliver with a message.  As I looked for the old forms we took messages on, the patient revealed the specimen was anthrax.

Then I woke up.  The end.

INGREDIENTS: Late night Taco Bell run, for sure.

danny_glover

In My Brain While Sleeping… Two New Inventions

Necessity is often credited as the mother of invention.  Allow me to add alcohol-induced dreams as another mother.

FIRST INVENTION: ROCK RIGGER

constructiontrucks

One four awl!

One four awl!

Why drag bulldozers, dump trucks, and cranes to a house about to be torn down, when you can pull up with a ROCK RIGGER!  The Rock Rigger comes equipped with a drill on its crane, which neatly ploughs through a diliapidated home’s roof (and if there’s no roof – even better!)  Next, rocks, stones, concrete… whatever’s in the hauling bed, move up the crane’s conveyor belt to be spilled into the second floor.  Once filled, the Rock Rigger backs away and waits.  And waits.  And after waiting awhile, the home should collapse under its weight, and voila!  No more house!  (BTW, the crushed houses looked awesome in my dream.)  Then you’d bring in the other vehicles for clean up… it’s so simple!

SECOND INVENTION: EYE IN THE SKY

It's like a dream! (It was a dream!)

It's like a dream! (It was a dream!)

With nanotechnology (or some other smart sounding thing nobody really understands yet), the EYE IN THE SKY will allow the user to access a plethora of entertainment and general use options… in your brain!  Stare into the heavens – or at a wall – and select with a point of your finger whatever application may suit your needs.  Via the enhanced contact lenses in your eyes, menu options will appear for phone, GPS, music, and more!  (WARNING: Do not use when driving, walking, sleeping, eating, swimming, dancing, typing, shooting, or throwing, as it may cause nausea or interference.  Most definitely will cause headaches.)

INGREDIENTS: An early Burger King feast, followed by buckets of Miller Lite

In My Brain While Sleeping… I May Have A Drinking Problem

I’m almost as hooked on the snooze bar as I am the booze bar, but as of late, I have not recalled many of my dreams.  This morning – a whopper, a flopper, and a doozy.

SCENARIO UNO

Do not go Freudian on me.

Do not go Freudian on me.

I was the eldest lad in a family of seafarers.  The brood’s Papa was a maritime cop, and he must have had it hard (who wants to have any job that begins with maritime?).  Every night it seemed Mama would wait for him to get home to serve dinner, and every night he’d be late (you’d think Mama would have learned).  I remember working on a crossword puzzle in a magazine.  I also recall the entire decor looking retro 70’s, or maybe it took place in the 70’s.  (Hello “Life on Mars.”)  Anyway, when Papa would get home, the first thing he’d do was pour a glass of whiskey on the rocks.  Then he’d dunk a banana in it.  He called it the Cop-a-Cabanana.

SCENARIO DOS

Hot chocolate chips!

Hot chocolate chips!

I don’t drink coffee.  As I’ve stated before, my cup of tea is Mountain Dew.  In my brain, I must live for Starbucks.  For some reason, while in line to get my iced mochachino espressosaurus rex, the announcement was made that Starbucks was being bought out.  That this shocked me in the dream shocks me now.  The reason for the buyout: too many people that bought their coffee were losing their jobs, and thus poor Starbucks was going down.  The purchaser: Mrs. Field’s Cookies.  They also bought out Arby’s for who-know-why.  My question was, “How could Mrs. Field’s succeed where Starbucks failed?”  The answer: No matter what, everyone eats cookies.

SCENARIO TRES

I couldn

No Photoshopping here.

This was by far one of the most disturbing – not in content, but in juxtaposition of content.  Stitch (the alien experiment to the left) was boozing it up and chomping down cigars faster than George Burns, Bill Clinton, and Monica Lewinsky put together.  (He kind of reminded me of the smoking chimp.)  And that’s fine.  It’s well within Stitch’s personality.  But to note: this dream was in cartoon form, and this is where things spiraled into time for me to wake up.   Across the room, Stitch spotted an inflatable doll.  He stumbled towards it, placed his head between its legs, and bit.  Pop! 

Needless to say, I had it enough with the snooze bar. 

…We’ll see about the regular bar.

INGREDIENTS: Cajun chicken sandwich, soggy bar fries, and mucho de boozo.