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

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





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…


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?






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.



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.


In My Brain While Sleeping… An Anthology

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)

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.

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..."

"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.

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… 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.


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.



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… My Job As A David E. Kelley Show


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.


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.



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!


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.


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.


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.


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.

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… Product Placement

Richard Chamberlain

Not pictured: Richard Chamberlain... Pictured: floating child head

In a high rise, um, high above Gotham, Bruce Wayne and I were speaking with a third party about investing in the future.

“Stride bubblegum,” Bruce began.  “It’s the taste of the future.”

“And the future is now,” I added.

Bubblegum was growing in petri dishes, and our guest wasn’t sold.  As it turned out, he didn’t have the funds to cover such an investment.  That’s when I pulled out a Capital One credit card.

“It’s the credit card of the future,” Bruce uttered without further prompting.

I merely nodded this time.  As our potential business partner contemplated his next move, an alram sounded through the city (I guess the bat signal wasn’t enough.)  Bruce excused himself.

Soon, there was a giant Shogun Warrior (by Mattel) roaming Gotham’s streets.  I wondered, “How will Batman defeat this monstrosity?”

With a Bat Gundam of course.  (This could happen.  Check here.)

BONUS: Halloween advice from a dream over the weekend – if you want to make a bowl of M&M’s last longer, try cutting them all in half.

INGREDIENTS: Ten hours of surfing the 3x2xU since I was out of town all weekend, coupled with a GladWare storage container full of five-day old Kraft spaghetti.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Short and Sweet

I’ll cut these odd, recollected flashings to the point:

The Short:

Just like them, except more thumb-like

Just like them, except more thumb-like

There was a pair of thumb-shaped people.  Each of them were about two-feet tall, one man, one woman.  They dressed in the style of traditional (stereotypical?) Dutch people.  The weird thing was the guy had to stay laying down, otherwise his organs would shift and kill him, and the lady had to stay standing for the same reason.  They were on a news report in my dream that stated, “They’re perfect for each other.  He can pick up low things, and she can grab things that are high… well, two-feet high…”


The Sweet:


Not pictured: me, spaghetti

I was hanging out with Posh and Becks.  We were at their house, in which everything was pure white – the fancy carpet, the leather couches, the marble end tables.  Posh was leaning over the end table, leafing through magazines.  Becks was relaxing across one of the couches (I think it was the love seat, but I didn’t want to put that… oops… at least I didn’t put he was shirtless… damn!)  I was sitting on the floor across from Posh, at the end of the coffee table.  We were all eating spaghetti for some reason.  Finis.

Yummy... wait, what?
Yummy… wait, what?

(Above pic from Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster)

Bonus spaghetti: Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!