In My Brain While Sleeping | monkeyBLOG monkeyDO

In My Brain While Sleeping… A Dreamy Episode Of 30 Rock

Posted on April 19, 2009 by sgottahurt

This dream unfolded as an episode of 30 Rock. I shall try to capture it for you.

INT. WRITER’S ROOM – DAY AFTER SHOW

Last night’s skit about President Obama was a success. All the trades are talking about it.

They’re not speaking positively about it Liz. You said he was a member of the Illuminati.

We were poking fun at the fact that every president is in the Illuminati. We don’t want to appear left-winged all the time. Besides, the Illuminati doesn’t even exist. I don’t even know what they’re all about.

(running into room, disguised not necessarily as a ninja)Did you hear? An eight year-old blogger was assassinated uptown because he said he didn’t like the president’s new dog.

That’s ridiculous, Tracey. Obama would never do that… would… he…

INT. JACK’S OFFICE

Tracey and Liz visit Jack to discuss the possibility of danger.

The both of you don’t really believe the conspiracy theory that the Illuminati exists, do you? Let alone the possibility that our latest president could be a part of that organization? And that he would be willing to assassinate bloggers?

Eight year-old bloggers.

Tell you what. To appease you both and to provide a sense of safety, why don’t we get that makeup artist in here…

The one that turned Tracey into Robery Downey, Jr?

Yes, that one. He–

Jack’s office window suddenly shatters and Tracey and Liz flee, screaming. Jack picks up a found golf ball.

Moonves, isn’t it a bit early for building tee off?

INT. TOOFER’S APARTMENT

Wow, Toofer… this is a really nice place for the salary we’re paying you.

It didn’t come equipped with windows. That’s how I can afford it on my salary. And your welcome, for letting you stay here.

(eating food out of Toofer’s fridge) Thank you.

INT. JACK’S OFFICE

Liz and Tracey try various hiding places while Jack talks to them.

A week has passed, and no serious threats have been made against your lives. Can you finally admit that there is no Illuminati?

Liz and Tracey finally stand up and face him.

Yes. Yes, we can.

(Anonymous voice from speaker phone) That’s sufficient.

You know Jack, Liz and I have learned a lot from this experience. Like not to jump to conclusions when eight year-old bloggers get assassinated. And how to make pumpkin pies. Toofer is a great chef and teacher.

THE END

In My Brain While Sleeping… Lily Allen, Free Tickets, And The Chinese Restaurant

Posted on April 16, 2009 by sgottahurt

Vodpod videos no longer available.

more about “Dailymotion – LILY ALLEN – Smile, une…“, posted with vodpod

So long as I’ve been following her on Twitter (I made it at least a few posts without bringing the micro-blogger up), Lily Allen has been playing a little game with her fans. Every town she visits, she hides tickets and Tweets cryptic clues to their locations.

I’ve already dreamed in Twitter. The next step was this:

When the British songstress visited Detroit, I tried figuring out the hints, but I didn’t bother searching. My dream changed all that.

I was in a Chinese restaurant downtown near the casinos. What’s funny is I don’t know if there are any Chinese restaurants there, and I certainly don’t eat Chinese (I stick to the basics of pizza and Pop Tarts, thanks).

Anywok, for some reason I was the host of said establishment, and there was a short girl with long black hair blocking her face. She was hanging out in the waiting area, and she kept looking in at me, even though she didn’t have a reservation.

Eventually, I realized that she was looking at my podium, and I headed to the front to see what all the fuss was about. There were two blue tickets taped to the wood grain. They weren’t official looking or anything. It was as if they were made in Print Shop or something.

(Not So) Artistic Representation

I peeled them off and Lily Allen rushed toward me, moving the hair from her face. “Congratulations!” she said with her cute accent. And no one in the place budged.

Disappointed with the dining crowd’s reaction, I shouted, “Free computers are hidden all over Greektown!” Everyone leaped to their feet and dispersed, ditching their bills to do so. I was fired on the spot, but it didn’t matter… not the way Lily was looking at me.

“Howzabout we skip me concert and go for a stroll,” she said. And we did.

INGREDIENTS: Too much Twitter… and Jellybean Nerds.

In My Brain While Sleeping… An Anthology

Posted on April 2, 2009 by sgottahurt

I’ve had some doozies of dreams lately. Alone, they probably don’t amount to much, but together… they still don’t probably amount to much. I just think the cast has been strange of late, so here they are, collected as an anthology, separated by photos, natch.

It's a D.L.T. (Duchovny + Leoni + Travolta)

In this dream, David Duchovny and Tea Leoni were still together, and they happened to be the parents of my friend/boss Paul’s kids (his lists are begrudgingly featured on this very site). Does this mean that I subconsciously refer to them as such? WTF do I know?

Anytruthisoutthere, the family went to a campground where the parents and kids stayed on opposite sides. The twisted purpose of the camp was to make the parents forget about their kids as they are set off into the real world alone. Pretty Roald Dahl-type stuff here.

So as the weeks and months go by, the two tykes survive in the world with the help of a magical friend, played by John Travolta, looking exactly like he does above for his role in The Taking of Pelham 1-2-3. As he helps Paul’s kids find their way back to Dave and Tea, Dave and Tea slowly remember that they have kids they need to find. They prepare to leave the campground after six months, and the child-hating neighbors become suspicious. When readying to leave their house (must have been a fancy campground), everyone stares through their front windows at them. It was creepy, trust me.

See what happens when you put Charles in charge.

This was kind of a quick snippet. In the dream, the TripleDoubleU was all in a tizzy because allegedly there was a quick nude scene in an old episode of Charles in Charge, featuring Nicole Eggert.

Way to go subconscious. Make dream nudity as geeky as possible.

"Melanie Chartoff and Neil Flynn were sitting in a tree..."

I was back in high school in this dream, and the Principal from Parker Lewis Can’t Lose(season one coming to DVD June 30th – yay!) and the Janitor from Scrubs were my principal and janitor. And I caught them. Making out. And possibly more. I was having a bad day in the dream (of course), and after bearing witness to their deeds, I knew I had carte blanche. I whistled as I walked the halls, long after the class bells rang.

Meet my brother. He's a Muppet.

In this last bit, I was in a JC Penney for some reason. Everybody was dancing around like I was in some sort of musical. My brother appeared to me in the form of a Muppet and he lead me into the part of the store that basically was Sesame Street. This probably has to do with what I got him as a birthday gift, but still… weird.

INGREDIENTS: Peanut butter bagels, and probably my growing Twitter addiction (don’t believe my addiction… just check out my last three posts).

In My Brain While Sleeping… The Rise Of Cobra (Get Your Mind Out Of The Gutter)

Posted on March 21, 2009 by sgottahurt

In one of my dreams last night, I watched/participated in the new G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra movie.

It began rather inoccuously, meaning it didn’t seem at all like G.I. Joe. There was a compound and the team was being built. It was comprised of a bunch of your movie stereotypes (which I won’t go into because it doesn’t bode well for my subconscious). I remember a moment where a group of us were in a steel-decor room and cardboard boxes full of ammo rested on the center table. The captain or general or secretary (I don’t recall) said “Go!” and everyone lunged for the weapons like they were candy, stuffing grenades, guns, and dynamite in their pockets.

I wore a jacket comparable to this one (based on my real-life coat, also from American Eagle):

Mine had big inside pouches... maybe it's made from opossums (you thought I was going to say kangaroo... No? You didn't? My bad...)

I also think that the compound was somehow connected to a resort, like in the old episodes of Get Smart. The reason I bring this up is because at one point, after a member of my team falls through a concealed trap door, in searching for him, we fall through a similar hinged entrance.

We end up trapped with our fallen friend in a room on the resort side. The windows are shatter-proof and there are no doors. We can’t escape. Then through the windows, we see a couple that I apparently met earlier. They open the window from a latch outside, but they won’t let us out unless we can name who’s singing the song coming from their bedroom TV next door.

Right away, I know who it is: Shania Twain, and she’s doing a duet with Eurotrash superstar (?) Juraveggio Mugaiojdvkiaw… (I don’t know exactly – it was some weird dream name).

I just don't have enough dreams about her.

The couple let us out, and I ran to the TV because it was one of my favorite videos. This guy was singing the duet with Shania:

: Actor: Peter Stormare!

Anyyojoe… my team ends up getting shipped out to do battle with Cobra, and it’s at this point that I realize I watching/participating in the G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra movie and I’m pissed! It took this long to get to any battles?!

There was a car chase that lead to a field with way too many chain link fences. Bullets! Bombs! Explosions!

I was about to get captured/killed when I realized I had one of those hypersuits (whatever the fuck they’re wearing in this preview), and I started leaping and hopping about, between crater blasts and flimsy fences. Something trips me and I land at the feet of a guy dressed like this:

Like the costume on the left, but more in the direction of the one on the right... also, is she smiling at her own reflection?

As I struggle to get to my feet, he removes his mask, and lo! Who is it?

Juraveggio Mugaiojdvkiaw…

I walked out of the movie/woke up because I thought it was stupid.

INGREDIENTS: Working 13 hours (and until 1am), 2 Cheesy Double Beef Burritos, 1 24oz. bottle of none other than Mt. Dew

In My Brain While Sleeping… Housecleaning Pucks And Hamburger Docs

Posted on March 14, 2009 by sgottahurt

I had to verify what my subconscious created in this doozy of a dream, because in another one, my subconscious got it completely all wrong. It works in the second dream because it makes it kinda funny. But the fact that I knew a certain fact in the first one so matter-of-, um, -factly kinda impresses me (humility is soooo overrated).

DREAM SCENARIO ONE

I was playing hockey. It wasn’t a professional game, but professionals were there. (This entire dream happened out of guilt for skipping pick-up hockey last night. In my defense, two friends were not going… I just hope they had enough people… curse you guilt!) Anyhattrick, one of the pros approached me at the end and said, “I heard your house could use a good spring cleaning.” I told him, “Yeah, it could,” and then wondered who he’d been talking to. That’s when he dropped this deal, “I’d do it. For five bucks.” How could I resist? So I handed him five bucks and made arrangements, not even thinking he could be scamming me for five bucks. And he showed up! To clean! The player in question:

"Pretend the puck is dust, and the stick is a broom... that's how I'm gonna sweep, eh."

Martin Brodeur, goalkeeper for the New Jersey Devils. I didn’t know I knew him, or his position, or that he was Canadian, yet my subconscious did (I’m not 100% on whether I knew he was a Devil, but I want to say he was wearing their color scheme). In double-checking my brain, some tidbits I learned about him:

He’s played for the New Jersey Devils his entire NHL career. (I like franchise guys, and the NHL is full of them.)
He’s three shutouts short of breaking Detroit Red Wing Terry Sawchuck’s record of 103 games. (FYI – Sawchuck’s mask was the basis for Jason’s mask in Friday the 13th.)
He holds the second place record (behind Patrick Roy) for the most wins, which he’ll inevitably pass provided he stays healthy.
He holds the record for the most wins in a regular season (48, in 2006-7).
He’s the only NHL goalie to score a game winning goal.

There are many more. And I might have to add that I could be a fan now. What? Don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying I like him better than my beloved Red Wings… well, maybe Chris Osgood if he doesn’t start picking up.

DREAM SCENARIO TWO

I was eating at a McDonald’s (like I often do?) when a commotion started at the register. The friends with me initially ignored it, but when the buzz of excitement started spreading, people were rushing to the front counter. I overheard a girl say, “The stars of Top Gun are here doing a promotion!” So the group I was with got mixed up in the glee and followed. I distinctly remember not even thinking Tom Cruise would be there. I knew it would be Iceman (Val Kilmer) and Goose (Anthony Edwards). Turned out the rumors were wrong. Instead of getting this duo:

I could have cropped out the beer, but I enjoyed the beer being there. Existentialism for today.

I got this duo:

Dr. Ross and Dr. Green inda house! (But not on "House.")

Except they looked like this:

Uh... yeah...

Of course, everyone was excited to see George Clooney, and under normal circumstances I would have been, too. But Anthony Edwards? How often is he out in public? This was my chance to pitch a script in which he would have the starring role. The script entitled “Continuum” was based on a dream I once had that featured Anthony Edwards (how meta). I told it to him while Clooney took orders from dining room patrons, but I figured he was listening to our conversation and would possibly produce/direct the film. The only catch – the script wasn’t written. Edwards would be in town for two more days, so I’d have to write it in that time. That’s when Clooney chimed in, “It could be the greatest script of all time… or the crappiest.” (I knew he was eavesdropping!)

And that was that. To sum up: Martin Brodeur cleaned my house for five bucks, and I had two days to write a script for Anthony Edwards to star in. I have no idea what any of that means.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Shoe Car Shoo!

Posted on March 2, 2009 by sgottahurt

My busy week has lead to restless nights. Last night was no exception. I could not get comfortable (until I was supposed to waking up, ‘natch), and any dream of computer work instantly brought me back to reality. I even scared myself in the mirror when I was up hitting snooze (in case you either forgot or didn’t know – I keep my alarm clock in my bathroom far away from my button-happy trigger fingers).

Aside from the IT nightmares, I kept having dreams about these:

Wonderful for convering unsightly cankles.

Wonderful for covering unsightly cankles.

Except they were giant-sized. And they had wheels. Because they were cars. Between every twist and turn in my pursuit for some decent rest included a dream about the return of the Shoe Cars.

Does it come with a shoe horn?

It was as if they had existed once before, like when the new Volkswagen Beetle was released. My uncles and I were kicking back beers on my grandma’s porch (who knows why this scenario), and talking about how you never see Shoe Cars anymore. Sure, you’d see this all the time (yeah, right):

Also available in the OsCar compact.

But the Shoe Car? As soon as we mentioned it, a new one, colored blue, passed right by. We clanked beer bottles, proud of witnessing the return, or for the sheer luck of catching sight of one. Throughout the rest of the night, that stupid Shoe Car wouldn’t stay away. I might have even seen one outside the window in one of my computer repair visions.

Undreamed of... until now.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Gash Monsters, Flying Pucks, And Robert Redford

Posted on February 26, 2009 by sgottahurt

I had a series of strange dream flashes recently. Here’s the gist of them:

1) The Gash Monster. This one is a little messed up. The opening of the dream started like a pinhole fade-in… except the pinhole was a square. As the blackness pulled away, it revealed a creature comprised of eyes that looked just like this one below:

(Kinda) Artistic Representation

It was covered in gashes (take that word choice however you may), and in every slit (same goes for that word choice) rested a beady, blinking eye. The beast was the size of a couch and shaped like a boar. Its snorting (and endless staring) woke me up immediately.

2) The Floating Puck. In this dream, there was a ten foot cushioned, hockey puck-looking thing in a play area. Some kids were floating above it, but I thought they were flying by jet packs like we’re used to seeing (even though I saw none):

In case you couldn't put "jet" and "pack" together in your mind.

When they started doing flips, it freaked me out. I was worried they’d crash and smash their heads. As it turned out, this puck-thing blasted air which made everyone virtually weightless. At the point I finally stood on it, I had to jump to get started. I lifted a bit higher with each jump, but I was too heavy for it and slowly descended back to the ground. For whatever reason, this made me wake up, laughing out loud.

3) The Giveaway. This is maybe even stranger than the other two dreams. I was in my basement doing laundry, and Robert Redford was also there, going through all of his old awards. He was pulling out all kinds of trophies and throwing them in the trash – even his Oscars. The only one he wanted to keep was from Butch Cassidey and the Sundance Kid (for which he wasn’t even nominated). He told me he’d give me his Academy Award from The Sting (he didn’t win, but at least he was nominated). When he reached into the box, he pulled out a toy of the Gash Monster.

Like this Star Wars creature, but not at all.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Sucking Literally And Figuratively

Posted on February 17, 2009 by sgottahurt

Freud only knows why we dream about the things we do. And maybe I shouldn’t have invoked Freudian psychoanalysis on this weird subconscious wish fulfillment? (Gah, I hope not.)

Basically, there was a new product on the market for owners of Dyson vacuum cleaners. If you felt your little sucker wasn’t original enough, you could purchase decal kits to spice yours up. For example:

Because sure why not.

Nonetheless, I don’t remember if I invented them or rushed out to purchase a Dyson Decal pack, but I dreamt about ’em.

________________________________________________________

There was another dream I had, and I know it was an enlightening one. Basically, I sent an email to a blog, and the authors behind it emailed me back a response like this:

Dear Sean,

We will post your lazily written letter, but shame on your lazy writing.

Editors

The editors somehow got a hold of my cell phone number and they called to give me advice. The advice they gave me was priceless, and I woke up between my snooze-a-thon fully recalling their nugget of insight.

Damn. I can’t remember it anymore.

In My Brain While Waking Up… Sweet Jehovah! A Demon Dog Is In My Hallway!

Posted on February 14, 2009 by sgottahurt

I’m not sure exactly why I do this, but I think it had something to do with me staying up too late and not waking up for work to get money so I could stay out too late or something, but I keep my alarm clock in the bathroom.

Now the only reason I’m mentioning this is because this morning, on my stumbling walk from my bedroom to the bathroom to hit snooze (as per my snooze addiction – the only reason I set my alarm for a Saturday morning), my t-shirt scared the piss out of me.

As I bumped the doorway at an angle I usually don’t (I often bump walls and doorways because I don’t open my eyes much), I spotted the corner of my black tee from last night in the hallway and thought it was a Demon Dog from Ghostbusters. Woke me up instantly.

At 9:37am between snoozes - yes.

Although it actually got my heart racing, I still hit the snooze bar on my alarm clock and laid back down, making sure to change the location and placement of the image-inducing cotton product.

What finally fully awakened me was my doorbell. And the door knocking. And the doorbell again. Oh yeah, there it is – interior door knocking now.

It must have snowed last night, was my first thought, and the incessant attention seeking noise was my neighbor kid wanting to shovel the walk, because sure-as-shit, the area Jehovah’s just ain’t that persistent. They politely knock, stick a pamphlet in the door handle, and move along, proselytizing. And if it was anyone I knew, they would have called in tandem with the racket, and my cellular remained silent. I checked out the window, and yup – two inches of snow on the ground.

Sure I could shovel it, I thought. But it’s going to melt anyway.

Bonus Saturday morning cartoon: