Here's something you might be interested in.
People that analyze dreams are insane. There's really nothing there. You have a bunch of crazy thoughts, (or normal thoughts), and when you sleep, you can't really control them.
I had a girlfriend in 11th grade that was mad at me one day. It was because I did something she didn't like, in one of her dreams. She had all kinds of books that analyzed dreams. I'd occasionally flip a book open, read the crap written, and make fun of it. I told her it's almost the equivalent of people that are into astrology, and believe that garbage.
I had a Heather Thomas poster in my room in high school. She was in a Jacuzzi, with a pink bikini, and her thumb pulling the bottom part of it higher. I'd sometimes have dreams I was meeting her, and I'd ask her out on a date. She would then say, "Dude, you're in high school. I'm not going out with you." I'd wake up all angry. A few times, I'd ask her out, and we'd be having dinner somewhere, and I'd say to myself, "Why is Heather Thomas sitting here to dinner with me? I don't even have a credit card. How will I pay the bill? Is this a dream?" And...once I'd ask myself that question, I'd immediately wake up. And then I'd be mad at myself for waking up. I mean, where else would I have a chance to have dinner with her?
My older brother always liked to tell people his dreams. And, it always sounded like some weird Dungeons & Dragons thing -- with swords, castles, and creatures he had to battle. I'd have to tell him, after 15 minutes of his story, that I just didn't care. Or that he should lay off the drugs.
People that have bizarre dreams, I don't think they realize, when you explain them, it just sounds weird. Of course, when you were there, it "seemed real." Okay. Fine. I get it. But, don't bore the people in your office about it.
There's a comedian that does a bit about walking into a really great story a co-worker is telling. Then, finding out at the end, it was just a dream. He yells, "Why did you just waste 30 minutes of my time? You were talking about the car going over the cliff, I was all into it..."
My older stepbrother loves talking about dreams. He thinks it can tell a lot about the person, and what is on their mind. He also thinks they're interesting. So, I'll occasionally tell him when I have a weird dream.
Since I didn't have anything to blog, and I just woke up, I figured I'd write about the weird dream I had.
I was on Venice Beach. I'm not sure why. I haven't been there in years. And, I see actor John Goodman walking near a pier. I run over, and ask him if he'll write the forward to this book on comedians that I'm writing.
The weird thing is...in real life, I'm not writing a book on comedians. Maybe it was on my mind, because I've been talking about comedians a lot with my friends lately. I dunno.
He doesn't really seem into the idea. And, I'm really trying to sell him on it. He pulls out a cigar from his pocket, and lights it up.
Now, when I went to a play he did in La Jolla, I remember he was smoking a huge cigar backstage in the dressing room. So, maybe that's where I got that from.
The weird part of the dream, is this. As we're talking about it, all of the sudden, it's Michael McKean that I'm talking to. He's the guy in all the Christopher Guest movies. He was the singer in Spinal Tap. He was Lenny, of Lenny and Squiggy, from Laverne & Shirley.
He said to me, "I may do funny movies, but I'm not a stand-up comedian. Why would you want me to write the forward?" I said, "Well, publishers just want a big name. They'd rather have you write the forward, than some standup comedian that is less famous." I then started praising his work in Laverne & Shirley, which is odd, because I didn't think that show was all that funny. I'm not sure why I didn't tell him how much I loved Spinal Tap, and his bizarre performance in the recent "The Grand," about poker players.
I then woke up. And, what I can't figure out is...why I was walking with Goodman one second, and he turned into Michael McKean.
And, why in my dream, I just went with it. I didn't say, "Hey, wait a minute! What happened to John? How did you get here?"
In your dreams, things like that happen, and you just roll with it.
I'll probably forget this dream by dinner.
Maybe I'll call my stepbrother, and make his day with all the details of it.
People that analyze dreams are insane. There's really nothing there. You have a bunch of crazy thoughts, (or normal thoughts), and when you sleep, you can't really control them.
I had a girlfriend in 11th grade that was mad at me one day. It was because I did something she didn't like, in one of her dreams. She had all kinds of books that analyzed dreams. I'd occasionally flip a book open, read the crap written, and make fun of it. I told her it's almost the equivalent of people that are into astrology, and believe that garbage.
I had a Heather Thomas poster in my room in high school. She was in a Jacuzzi, with a pink bikini, and her thumb pulling the bottom part of it higher. I'd sometimes have dreams I was meeting her, and I'd ask her out on a date. She would then say, "Dude, you're in high school. I'm not going out with you." I'd wake up all angry. A few times, I'd ask her out, and we'd be having dinner somewhere, and I'd say to myself, "Why is Heather Thomas sitting here to dinner with me? I don't even have a credit card. How will I pay the bill? Is this a dream?" And...once I'd ask myself that question, I'd immediately wake up. And then I'd be mad at myself for waking up. I mean, where else would I have a chance to have dinner with her?
My older brother always liked to tell people his dreams. And, it always sounded like some weird Dungeons & Dragons thing -- with swords, castles, and creatures he had to battle. I'd have to tell him, after 15 minutes of his story, that I just didn't care. Or that he should lay off the drugs.
People that have bizarre dreams, I don't think they realize, when you explain them, it just sounds weird. Of course, when you were there, it "seemed real." Okay. Fine. I get it. But, don't bore the people in your office about it.
There's a comedian that does a bit about walking into a really great story a co-worker is telling. Then, finding out at the end, it was just a dream. He yells, "Why did you just waste 30 minutes of my time? You were talking about the car going over the cliff, I was all into it..."
My older stepbrother loves talking about dreams. He thinks it can tell a lot about the person, and what is on their mind. He also thinks they're interesting. So, I'll occasionally tell him when I have a weird dream.
Since I didn't have anything to blog, and I just woke up, I figured I'd write about the weird dream I had.
I was on Venice Beach. I'm not sure why. I haven't been there in years. And, I see actor John Goodman walking near a pier. I run over, and ask him if he'll write the forward to this book on comedians that I'm writing.
The weird thing is...in real life, I'm not writing a book on comedians. Maybe it was on my mind, because I've been talking about comedians a lot with my friends lately. I dunno.
He doesn't really seem into the idea. And, I'm really trying to sell him on it. He pulls out a cigar from his pocket, and lights it up.
Now, when I went to a play he did in La Jolla, I remember he was smoking a huge cigar backstage in the dressing room. So, maybe that's where I got that from.
The weird part of the dream, is this. As we're talking about it, all of the sudden, it's Michael McKean that I'm talking to. He's the guy in all the Christopher Guest movies. He was the singer in Spinal Tap. He was Lenny, of Lenny and Squiggy, from Laverne & Shirley.
He said to me, "I may do funny movies, but I'm not a stand-up comedian. Why would you want me to write the forward?" I said, "Well, publishers just want a big name. They'd rather have you write the forward, than some standup comedian that is less famous." I then started praising his work in Laverne & Shirley, which is odd, because I didn't think that show was all that funny. I'm not sure why I didn't tell him how much I loved Spinal Tap, and his bizarre performance in the recent "The Grand," about poker players.
I then woke up. And, what I can't figure out is...why I was walking with Goodman one second, and he turned into Michael McKean.
And, why in my dream, I just went with it. I didn't say, "Hey, wait a minute! What happened to John? How did you get here?"
In your dreams, things like that happen, and you just roll with it.
I'll probably forget this dream by dinner.
Maybe I'll call my stepbrother, and make his day with all the details of it.