I Googled wake up call. This picture of Charlize Theron showed up as a result. I used it. Welcome to my train of thought.
I know Thanksgiving is far behind us, but I wasn’t writing this blog actively then, so I need to say this now: I’m thankful for my job. Now, I could be big about it, and be thankful mostly that I have a job, but let me be small. I’m thankful for my job because I pretty much start whenever I want (I try to be there before 10am), and I can find time to work on this – my master-of-stolen-minutes-work.
That having been said, sometimes I do have to be responsible and wake up early. On occasion, I’ve even had to be at a client by 7am! The night of this dream, that was the case.
So in this dream, there was a study that was conducted, and I was privy to the results. The study’s tagline:
Who has the most recognizable voice in the world?
I’ll save the results for after the jump… Read More
As usual, what the fuck is wrong with my subconscious?
In this particular dream, I met Don Rickles and after hanging out for a few drinks, he let me in on a top-secret project he was working on. He told me that he and Garry Shandling had an upcoming talk show set to debut on FOX called “It’s Garry!”
It would take place in a boxing ring within a smoky environment, and there would be only two chairs facing each other, like Tom Snyder’s old Late Late Show. Rickles would man the pull-down boom mike and would act as the trainer; Garry would portray different personalities for each interview, with names like Harry, Jerry, and Barry.
I guess it might look something like this:
It’s been a while since I’ve edited me some photos…
I would totally watch this show, and not just because I invented it without trying…
(SIDENOTE: Here’s Garry in his original uncomfortable environs…)
Oh the celebs he could get!
This by far has to be one of my strangest dreams… and that’s saying a lot.
It involved the old entertainment powerhouse Blockbuster:
Why don’t keyboards have cent signs anymore?
You see, they sent out emails and letters asking any and all of their former customers one specific statement:
If you have a credit card that you are not currently using, please allow us to max out its cash advance. We will cover all the monthly payments and the interest. We are only doing this to have liquid assets. For participating, you will have unlimited free rentals until we’ve paid our debt on your card.
In a bizarre way, it seems logical. But could anyone really trust Blockbuster after their whole No Late Fees debacle? Wow, what a difference 27 years make…
This is one of those dreams that I shouldn’t share because, quite frankly, it made no sense. So here we go! (With pictures! (And videos!))
I was a writer on Saturday Night Live.
And I was proud about a skit I wrote in which adults were trying to pass each other holding on the top pole of a swing set.
But then they ended up having Krazy Glue hard hats on and stayed in place.
I ran into President Obama at a shopping mall and told him the skit’s premise. He did not find it funny.
Oh yeah… did I mention it was Lingerie Day? All over the mall, women were only wearing lingerie.
And how could I forget to tell you it was coincidentally also Free Ice Cream Day?
But to get free ice cream, you needed a ticket from a sponsor. Every sponsor I checked in with ran out.
I decided I was going to eat ice cream anyway since there was so much leftover. As I moved in, a friend that was working gave me permission to pig out.
That’s when I shared my theory on food portions:
When free food is provided, you should take a fair portion first. Once everyone has gone through the line, you can take a second helping of a higher portion. This does not apply to pizza. More pizza can only be taken in the third round.
That’s about when I overheard a man tell his wife: “You told me not to think!”
My punchline: “She had to tell you not to do that?”
I’d like to think if he was still there, this was his response.
Then I awakened to this song playing on the radio:
You know how when the team you thought was supposed to be doing fantastic is only doing so-so, it affects your psyche? Well, it’s really doing a number on my subconscious.
My Detroit Tigers are in the midst of getting out of a slump, but somehow, my brain while sleeping didn’t quite have the answer.
Apparently, in my dream state, to break any curse the team must be reeling from can only be broken by making ace pitcher Justin Verlander…
“I don’t like where this is going…”
…out of these:
Well, not just one LEGO guy. Out of many LEGOS.
Aside from having the idea of crafting a LEGO version of #35, I also recall realizing that LEGO has never released any playsets based (pun intended) on baseball. They’ve done other sports before:
Only one of these sports is “real.”
Why not America’s pastime? At least other people have taken up the mantle:
Fuzzy pic for so much work.
Is that a famous park? Yes.
So we’re left with two questions:
- Why doesn’t LEGO have any MLB sets?
- Why did I dream any of this?
What do these three dudes have in common?
It's a coincidence all three of these films are about drugs.
They all appeared in a dream! (Thank glob it wasn’t… well, just thank glob it was what follows.)
I was in some mall, in the outskirts of the food court near Game Stop. I was vaguely aware it was Easter Sunday for some reason, and I found a couple other people who seemed to be waiting for something. So asked them if they were there to play soccer like I was, and they were, so I joined them.
Not too long after, Paul Rudd showed up. He double-checked if we were the group, and once we answered, he kept his face buried in his cell phone.
James Franco arrived next. He wasn’t that interested in mingling either, otherwise I would have asked for him to autograph something for my mother (she loved him on General Hospital.)
The last to make it was Ewen McGregor, and he was the most social, despite keeping his sunglasses on. I don’t remember much else besides this except for the thought that I awakened with:
On the soccer field, would I call him Ew for short? That sounds too much like “you”…
Perhaps he’d answer to Mac?
It’s time again for that age-old question:
Could this novelty scale I dreamed about ever exist, and if it did, would it sell?
In a nutshell, the novelty scale is like a combination of these two items:
Essentially, it would work like this:
- There would be a pool table with a mathematically defined set of numbered balls on the table.
- You’d step on a scale at the end of the table.
- The balls would scramble to the nearest pockets (courtesy of magnets?), leaving behind the balls that added up to your weight. Kind of like how the above thermometer works (courtesy of magnets?).
There are plenty of weird people out there with money to burn. So… any takers?
New Slogan: "Mitt Romney in a knit mitt hat, for you... for us."
I can’t wait for all this to be over. There is no reason that I should have any dreams about politics, let alone Mitt Romney.
In this dream, he was not wearing the above hat, which is a pity. But he did go into a rant about the auto industry here in Detroit.
So far, so goof.
The biggest part I remember is his big promise, and big blunder.
He promised to get James Patterson to stop writing so many books…
Just a "pattering" of his works.
…so Stephen King would write more.
King of the Fountain... Pen
You see, in my brain…
He confused Michigan with Maine.
(SIDENOTE: Patterson is not from Maine… he’s from New York. But that’s close.)
When I awakened from this subconscious adventure, I was left with echoes of one question:
Where the fuck did this dream come from?
The star of this nocturnal transmission:
Babs, Ever The Stalwart (not an anagram, but it looks like one)
I don’t watch The View, but I’m constantly aware of it. If it’s not featured on some random website, then Joe McHale skewers it somehow on The Soup. But I watch that show on Wednesdays. I didn’t have this dream anywhere near Wednesday…
Anybabawahwah, I should at least be flattered by my subconscious. It was her birthday and she was hosting a party, The 50 Most Invited People. I was one of the 50 most invited.
But so was one of my nondescript associates (it was someone I knew, but I don’t know who). This person’s idea for a birthday present was to buy her scratch off lottery tickets. This person’s reasoning:
You know, it’s a gift that could keep on giving.
I was wracking my brain
while sleeping. What do you get a woman like Barbara Walters for her birthday?
Then it hit me – donate to her favorite charity in her honor. What was her favorite charity, you ask?
You know... because of her tree thing.*
There dream exclusively featured Gabourey Sidibe, a.k.a. Precious (she will forever be tied to this role like Jon Heder is to Napoleon Dynamite).
She played on my softball team, and she brought
some an amazing talent. She had a fantastic bat that warranted unlimited homers over the fence.
Which worked out immensely well, seeing as how she had great difficulty running. We tried her at first, and we tried her in right field. But it just wasn’t working.
So then it occurred to us – deep, deep centerfield. It worked like a dream. She was a dream. It was… a dream.
I think she's even wearing high heels. You go girl.