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

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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

(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… The Future Is Fast And Its Music Is Questionable

The dream took place in a future world where time moved even faster than now.  People spoke in short two phrase/syllable sentences to communicate.

I was asking a girl to go to a concert with me, and it went something like this:

Me – “You me?”

Her – “Am gone.”

Me – “Hear muse?”

Her – “Who?”

Me – “Wi-Phi.”

Her – (she paused, but not for long) “O.K.”

Now, you may be wondering who is Wi-Phi in this future world.  Answer:


"Hold on for one more century..."

But they looked a little more like this:


I never remember... should I take the red pill or blue?

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.”


“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.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Sabotage Live!

This one was a doozy.  It started with Jerry Mathers having his own talk show, named after the remake/update of his old show.  Problems were occurring on set between him and the crew, so they replaced him with Willie Aames.

Buddy... is in charge now bitch!

Insert: Buddy... is in charge now bitch!

Things weren’t going that well for him once he took over either.  He had all kinds of demands and rage fits (in retrospect, I’m beginning to think the crew was the problem).

How they decided to sabotage Willie was to have Subway sponsor a fund raiser he was hosting at a cancer center.  The catch: Subway canned their $5 Foot Long campaign for a new one…

There Willie Aames is... get him!

There Willie Aames is... get him!

Seriously… this was my dream.

INGREDIENTS: Peanut butter on a bagel, way too much blog reading

In My Brain While Sleeping… “The Baby That Ate Whole Food!”

My girlfriend is a professional night time parking lot cleaner.  What this job entails exactly, I’m not sure (other than the obvious).

I’m unemployed, so I take care of her infant son (or is it ours?) who is about, oh, twelve-inches-tall-with-his-legs-curled-up old.  He wears a one piece pajama suit the color of mint chocolate chip ice cream, minus the chocolate chips.  He barely knows how to use any of his limbs, so it shocks me the day he asks me telepathically:

“Can I have I bite of that burger?”

At first, I look around.  There’s no way the baby said something.  Besides, do you know what it took for me to get this burger from Applebee’s Carside to Go without a car?

“Yeah, it’s me.  I can speak with my mind.”

I looked the baby in the eyes, and he raised his eyebrows to prove it.

“Okay, so even though you may be able to speak in thoughts,” I told him, “you don’t have any teeth.  Plus, I don’t think you do a good job digesting what you get as it is.”

“Try eating what I do, and see what happens to you,” he warned.  “My gums are the toughest gums you’ll ever meet.  Go on and stick out your finger.  I’ll bite it clean off.”

I believed him, so I cut off a piece of the burger and fed it to him.  He chewed with such delight that his smile made his eyes almost disappear behind chubby cheeks.

“Now let’s go get some chili cheese curly fries,” he suggested.

I chastised him.  “Don’t think with your mouth full.”  Then I got up and grabbed my coat and his blankets and carriage.

INGREDIENTS: Game 1 of the World Series… and two hours of Lego Batman: The Videogame

(CAVEAT LECTOR: For the sake of keeping the dream retelling from going completely off the deep end, I omitted the part where the baby just turned into a floating head.)