In My Brain While Sleeping… Only in My Dreams

None of these were full dreams, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t share.

In one dream, I got to meet Debbie Gibson.  She lived in a dangerous town, and she almost sent me to my doom, but when I was sitting next to her, our knees touched.  Knees!

Sorry. This is Deborah Gibson.

Another dream featured the return of Olivia Munn to G4’s Attack of the Show.  They kicked her replacement, Candace Bailey, to the curb, because what else has Munn been up to?

Attack of the Show, indeed.

The last tidbit in my sleeping noggin was about Pauly D and his new hairstyle:

"Call me DJ Mullet."

In My Brain While Sleeping… New Reality Show

I think I watch too much TV. I know I watch too much TV.  So this means I dream a lot about TV.  As for improvised drug use… not so much.  But that doesn’t mean any such acts are off-limits in the subconscious.

(SIDENOTE: What unfortunately seems to be off-limits is anything above a PG-13 rating.)

So anyVH1, I recently had a dream involving these three reality stars:

Kourtney Kardashian - Nicole "Snooki" Polizzi - Audrina Patridge

And we were just hanging out at a night club doing whip-its (not to be confused with whipping hair).  That’s it.  Nothing provocative.  I’m just using this to illustrate my boob tube influenced brain.

Which brings me to the actual point of this post… I can’t believe there isn’t a reality show called The Dog Walkers.

In one of my dreams, the show existed, and it took place in different cities, like The Real Housewives, or MLB games.  But whereas this as a show might get boring:

How many are named Sparky?

This never will:

"Hold it 'til we get home. I forgot to bring bags!"

One more for prosperity:

It's because he can't see, you see.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Belligerent Smurfs

Wino Smurf, er, Champagno Smurf?

This one’s a quick one.  My friends and I were at a concert.  We were drinking a craaaazy amount.  Oh.  And we were all Smurfs.  We were in cartoon form, but we existed in the real world, à la Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Or the upcoming Smurfs movie.  But cel animated.  Not CGI*.  Thank you.

Barfly Smurf

*yes, you better Smurfing believe this is happening…

(SIDENOTE: But then again, CGI could look like cel animation.  Take a gander at this Roger Rabbit 2 screen test.  He’s 100% computer generated.)

In My Brain While Sleeping… Lady Problems (And How)!

Hate the playaz, not the club...

I always loved how the Little Rascals were such small scamps.  I don’t know where I was going with this, so onto the dreams!

I don’t watch The Bachelorette.  I’ve seen The Bachelorette and The Bachelor, but I don’t watch them with any regularity.  Or irregularity.  For all the drinking and crappy eating I do, I’m surprised at my regularity.

Anywhocaresaboutjakeandvienna, for some reason while in slumber, I found myself as a participant on the one-chick version (way to go subconscious…) with this Bachelorette (way to go subconscious?):

Ali Fedotowsky

She’s a pretty girl, no doubt, and in the dream she was in different to me (way to go subconscious again).  As she was sending away one of the other bachelors, that guy started bawling.  He was seriously gasping for air he was crying so bad.  I started making fun of that guy with a few of the other contestants, and they whooped it up while she approached from behind me.

I made a remark along the lines that I would probably cry too, and she overheard.  From then on out, she paid all kinds of attention to me, thinking I was the sensitive type (which I am when watching movies and TV, but not so much in real life) and that they were all meanies.  I don’t know if  I won, but it left me wondering this:

To win this game show, do you need to score?

In the other dream I had, I met Lindsay Lohan.

Please move away from the door and let me leave!

I had the chance to talk with her, and through hours of lunchtime discussion, she had a breakthrough!  She was going to change her life!  She cried (though not as bad as the guy dumped by the Bachelorette), and we went to meet her mom, Dina.  Somehow, my words sliced through to the core of their being, like a hot knife through butter, or a hot knife through a chest for that matter.

They thanked me for helping them heal, and I felt great.

It was when I awakened that realized in reality, they were both co-dependent, delusional, coked out whores, and that no one could ever help them, let alone me.

Inside, I kind of felt like this:

In My Brain While Sleeping… Preview “The Secret Of My Success 2” And “The Expendables” Twist

(Not So) Theatric Poster

Much like our friends and family (but not our nose), we can’t pick our dreams.  Sure we can influence them, but it’s still the subconscious that gets the final say.

For instance, I recently dreamed about a pair of entirely different movies and their REM-rendered interpretations were off, odd, and, quite frankly, awful.

First up to bat – the above teaser poster.  I didn’t envision the look of it (nor the amount of time it took to make it look like passable junk).  The plot of The Secret of My Success 2 came through to me like a whisper in the night.  Well, maybe not a whisper… more like a coughing hack.

The CEO of McDonald’s and his wife were having marital problems.  In stepped me/Michael J. Fox… I/he  suggested that the CEO sing this to his wife:

“Ba-da-bah-bah-bum… I’m lovin’ you.”

Boom!  I/he became a success at McDonald’s!  And it was our little (second) secret!

The other dream involved me seeing a sneak preview for a flick that hasn’t even hit theaters yet – The Expendables.

Suffice it to say, there was a switcheroo in the middle of the movie (a twist filling, if you will), and the bad guys killed off all the Expendables except for two…

Tough Guys: Topher Grace and Jay Baruchel

In My Brain While Sleeping… Peanut Butter Dream Theory

Skippy = Trippy

I’m really beginning to think I have my thumb on the pulse of my weird dreams.


These dream elements are merely that, without narrative.  But each of these happened the nights I went to sleep after eating peanut butter, either on a bagel or in Reese’s Pieces.

The Strange Reincarnation Metaphor

On the list of possibilities of what happens after we die, reincarnation falls below nothing for me.  It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around.  But I have considered, if it does happen, maybe it’s not the path for everyone.

Much like how in this dream I had a variety of snacks growing out of the entirety of my right arm.  My forearm was covered in smaller snacks, like Lifesaver mints and Good & Plenty’s (though not Reese’s Pieces).  The closer to my neck, the larger the treats became, culminating in pretzel rods protruding like crystal spikes from my shoulder blades.  I resembled a candy aisle version of Superman’s enemy, Doomsday:

There's a good chance those spikes are rock candy...

So what’s the reincarnation connection?  All the foods could be snapped off and were completely (and grossly) edible, and most, but not all, of them would grow back.  Like they were reincarnated, you see.  It made sense in that dream sort of way – don’t think about it too much.

Summer Never Ends at the Jersey Shore

Was it necessary for my subconscious to dream up this exchange?

Angelina to Snooki

You are to Cheetos what I am to popcorn.

Whatever that means.

Are they making the same face, or am I cross-eyed?

And that’s the situation… when I eat peanut butter and fall asleep.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Tweaking Existing Toylines

Those that claim to know me might say that I’m a child at heart.  Those that really know me would call me an overgrown child.  According to my subconscious, I have the mind of a child.  I prefer to say I’m living the 13 year-old me’s dream…

This set of dreams involved a pair of toy collections that I’ve previously mentioned on this post, but were sort of blended together.  It was the Lego Batman video game, and though I haven’t played it in a while, that did not prevent me from dreaming that there was a Batman toy collection that was kind of like a model train town set (Exhibit A) and a bit like Playmobil (Exhibit B).

Tiny figurines representing each of the characters could be purchased, as well as scenery components, and you could assemble a miniature Gotham City similar to Exhibit C.  I guess there’s a toy line called Imaginext that’s kind of like what I envisioned (Exhibit D), but I still imagine(xt) something much darker…

Where the other half of the Lego Batman connection ends up has nothing to do with a Lego town (Exhibit E).  It’s more like the Marvel Legends action figure collection (Exhibit F).  Every Lego set you purchased could be put together (or should I say combined because of course Lego sets are put together) with other Lego sets to make bigger predisposed items.  Again, not like Exhibit E, but like how Galactus is assembled in Exhibit F.

You see, Galactus’ head comes with Professor X, and other pieces of him are packaged along with five other figures in that series.  So if you buy all six figures, you can make Galactus.  That’s how the Lego sets worked…

Never mind.

You’re adults… you don’t understand.

In My Brain While Sleeping… You’re Looking At The Creator Of “Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante”

I’ve been on a bit of a drought in regard to dreams lately.  I’ve had a few false starts, such as:

  • A dream about a movie starring The Two Coreys (Haim and Feldman, back in the day in their prime) and they were trying to get their parents to marry each other à la the Parent Trap.
  • A dream where I went on a Muppet hunting safari but didn’t know it.
  • A dream where I realized how funny it is to put “The” in front of various subjects, like The Fonz, The Hamburger, The State, and The Sex.

But last night, I had a vision about a vision like no other… I had inadvertently developed a new art form dubbed:

Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante

Okay, I’ll admit that I don’t know Spanish, and I don’t exactly remember the hack job that went on in my subconscious (although it was kinda close to the above Babel Fish translation), but for you gringos it means:

Shiny Mexican Optical Illusion

Turned out I wasn’t the one that originated the name.  There once was a Mexican artist/philosopher that initially proposed the possibility of what I accomplished.  His theory:

Two images can be created on top of each other.  One will be visible in reflective light, and one will be visible in non-reflective light. – a Mexican artist/philosopher

So in some alcoholic stupor reeking of brilliance, I drew a picture that looked like this in “reflective light” (whatever that means):


And in “non-reflective light” (again, whatever that means), the artwork looked like this:


I drew it as a doodle.  A throw away scribble on crinkled scrap paper.  But someone – the right someone – saw it, and heralded me as a mathematical genius for pulling off the Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante manually. 

In fact, it was a forgotten art theory, and I was thrust into the limelight, not unlike Andy Warhol.  My fifteen minutes were beginning after my scribble was purchased  for $500,000 by an unknown collector.  Duplicates of my work were sold in bulk at mall stores built just for my Shiny Mexican Optical Illusion.  The hype was similar to the interest over those pictures you stared at to see sunken treasure ships and sharks.

But I couldn’t live up to the expectations and failed to duplicate my success.  14:58, 14:59, 15:00 minutes hit, and I woke up.

Here’s the thing… I feel I could duplicate the Ilusión Óptica Mexicana Brillante  in real life.  I only need to figure out to create “non-reflective light.”

INGREDIENTS: Two cold pieces of pizza and a couple pitchers of Blue Moon.

In My Brain While Sleeping… A Trio Of Deliriums

I don’t even know if there’s an interest in the strange things I dream about, but it’s my blog and I can cry write about it if I want to.  I look at it mostly as the catalog I always meant to keep, but um, now do.

Over all the years, and even the months of this site, I know many odd and wondrous things have slipped through the cracks.  I collect here those that made it past the brain fade into oblivion, or the ones I care to share, which honestly are almost all… For example, I exclude those that are merely half ideas or lack narratives, like the dream where I had a motorcycle again (whoo hoo) or owned a gun that was combined with a bullhorn (a loudener, if you will).

For the sake of avoiding specifics on these dreams, I simply made montages.  In one case, it’s a Montag.



INGREDIENTS: Penn & Teller, two elephants (one pictured), a giant spatula, and buckets of fake blood.  It was one of their acts.  It was initially horrifying, then not so much so.




INGREDIENTS: Well, more of an explanation is needed here… there was this baby that had oily (pre-acne) skin, and depending upon how you touched the infant’s back, the child would make musical note sounds like an ocarina.  So as you held the baby in your arms, instead of crying, you heard elevator music, or the stylings of Kenny G.



INGREDIENTS: Spencer and Heidi Pratt and the cast of Kappa Mikey.  Man, those two don’t know the meaning of the word overexposure… and yes, they were in this cartoon.

OVERALL INGREDIENTS FOR DELIRIUMS (OR DELERIA, IF YOU PREFER): Velveeta cheese after beer and Pizza Rolls before beer.

In My Brain While Sleeping… Loud Noises, Where-Wolves, And A Bounty Hunter Makes A Correction Regarding His Name

Since this blog is an open book to all my weaknesses, it’s sorta turned into my (NERD ALERT!) Xavier Protocols.  Of my weaknesses (vanilla-scented anything falls high on that list), loud noises while I sleep smacks near the top.  On the night of these particular dreams, I fell asleep with the television on only to be awakened by a loud lawyer commercial.

Okay, it wasn’t that one, but imagine if the explosions were audible, then you’d get the picture.


Anyambulancechaser, in the first dream, I encountered a new breed of night creatures… the WHERE-WOLVES.  How were they different than werewolves?  Let me explain with a (NERD ALERT!) toy from the remake reboot whatever second Hulk movie:

You see, in the flick, which I have not seen, the dude on the right mutates into the monster on the left.  This toy, called the Hulk Deluxe Mutating Abomination, does not mutate at all.  Instead of either really mutating by adding water, or by simply imagining that it happens, the little guy fits into a compartment on the back of the big guy.  Dumb?  You bet.

Well that’s pretty much how where-wolves worked.  Wolves merged with their host humans so both could exist.  To recombine, humans hovered over the wolves.  Now that you’ve pictured it, moving on…

My other dream involved a (NERD ALERT!) Star Wars character.  Growing up, I knew this bounty hunter…


…as Zuckuss and this guy…


…as 4-LOM.  But as it turned out, the original Kenner toy line had it wrong in the 80’s, and with the re-releases of the toys in the 90’s, they rectified the problem and named each of them correctly.  To me though, Zuckuss will always be 4-LOM and 4-LOM will be Zuckuss.  Until I was corrected in a dream.  This guy…


…showed up to tell me his name really was Allen.

INGREDIENTS: Turkey and provolone on a bagel and a Mountain Dew.  And beer.