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[Disposable Ninja]

... so.

I fucked a decapitated zombie woman in a dream last night.

I... I think I have problems.

ADDENDUM: Ruel from Wakfu was there too.

[Büge]

[Silversong]

I had two oddly long and detailed dreams last night.
The first was about the coworker who likes to make me miserable, and her plot to take control of the office by hiring hitmen to take people out. I think I was fighting them with the receptionist.

Second was about me and my friend Kristie in like a hotel during a con trying to get cosplayers to evacuate while fighting zombies that we had to decapitate with katana while trying to get to the roof to do something apparently really important. I don't know, I woke up before we succeeded. We did however get to the roof, and I had to kill a kitten just in case it was a zombie kitten. :(  (It should be noted that I do not get into the whole zombie media culture.)

[Mongrel]

I also had two dreams. The first was relatively harmless and mostly involved repeated visits to a large rambling complex of victorian-era rowhouses, with endless bricked up passageways and old disused units. While Starr and I were getting lost and trying to meet the locals, we started bringing poopnuts along with us. We tore a strip off an old blue-striped blanket and tied it on him as a little necktie so that we could find him easily amongst all the other cats that wandered around. Eventually we got ourselves invited to supper at some apartment or other and poopnuts showed up with another cat. The other cat kept showing up and we figured out he'd had a son (IRL poopnuts is neutered). The son looked just like him only a little bigger (poopnuts is already a pretty big cat), with big jowly side whiskers, and more ordinary yellow eyes (poopnuts has pretty blue ones) a lynx-point cat had clearly been involved on the other end. Because of the sidewhiskers the cat looked like an old english cavalry commander so we called him Colonel.

The second dream was a more ordinary sort of LSD trip (the kind I usually have, but usually forget), that started out with long space trucks (like the ones in that one Bebop episode) used as star-blazer-esque weapons platforms. There was a small arid moon that orbited a larger planet, which I was exploring, it was full of bizarre people, like Mos Eisley as designed by Moebius. Back in orbit, the small planet looked like a Mark Tedin painting with a cartoonish gnarled sort of brainy texture riven with veins of tiny pewter and copper-coloured metallic cubes (these were the built up settlements). Eventually I discovered the whole moon was a weapons platform, but the big planet it orbited started to vanish from existence while a sinister plan of some kind went into effect. I went to a old bookstore to get orders from the Princess of Space who commanded me to destroy the moon at all costs, but there was an art show on, so I had to try and get away from Richard Branson who kept trying to sell me on the benefits of doing heroin. Eventually he slipped some onto an hors d'oeuvre so I got high anyway and woke up.

[Romosome]

So I have an online class right now. This week the teacher posted a pre-quiz to prepare us for an actual logical fallacies quiz that would come later. We took the pre-quiz on our own merits, made a post about it, and then nothing. I had to post on the discussion boards to make sure that I hadn't missed anything and that we were still just waiting.

That was in real life. Last night, in my dreams, I took the quiz I was waiting for.

I took it in person after waiting around in an office to petition into the class, something I already did. The quiz itself which I arrived late to was a nightmare. It was a series of fill in the blank contextual words taken from what seemed like two pages of potential entries and the entire thing was a crazy struggle against Visual Language Not Working Right In Dreams. It was like my fight dreams where I couldn't punch only this time I couldn't write. But I did anyway, I struggled to scratch out barely legible words I cannot even remember and read sentences that changed halfway through to try and figure out context. The whole thing was like being dyslexic. In the end, I think I started winning.

Also my teacher was walking around dressed as Gaston for some reason.

Later, in another dream scene, I was exploring which is normally one of my favorite kinds of dreams. While the rest of it fades, I remember exploring side-passageways in an area entirely covered in tile, like a public shower or swimming pool type area. Basically I ended up taking a waterslide that was intended to be a totally decorational waterfall. Only...not. Dream logic is weird, and in the dream, I remember seeing the spots where the water I was being tugged along with split off into dark, unlit passageways with rough walls which I knew headed down into some dangerous industrial part of the building I shouldn't go, and I remember thinking it was stupidly dangerous for those to just be openly connected like that with no barriers. So I navigated these forks and paths by sticking out my feet to brace against the narrow walls and halt myself from time to time, before being spit out (nearly falling out) into the back-wall waterfall of a restaurant. The whole place was still covered in white tile, it was just a big room with tables and food, like some kind of simplistic nethack dungeon. There was at least one other person there. There was piping hot sushi (?) everywhere, and I was worried about my hands being dirty from riding around in god-knows-where-it's-been-water but I was hungry and there were chopsticks.

So after risking certain death by riding around and almost being sucked into holes that led nowhere I grabbed a bowl full of fresh eel and avocado rolls and walked around eating them with chopsticks while looking in the tile hallways for a bathroom to wash my hands in.

The problem with dreams here, as you might be able to tell from my writing, is that the more your brain calms down and becomes focused and rational after waking the less it remembers. Retrospective logic just obliterates details of the dream. Hence, the parts I remember vividly seem half-crazy in the way they're phrased as directly written.

If I had to interpret this one...I've got tasks I'm worried about, challenges, but I'm ready to face them and confident I can overcome despite the difficulty.

(also I'm hungry)

[NexAdruin]

This story is really gruesome. I share it only because it horrified me and when something horrifies you there is something that makes you tell others and hope that they understand, somehow, as if sharing the experience will make it less horrifying. If nobody reads it that would be fine with me.

Seriously it's pretty fucked up.

[Mongrel]

This morning:

Me: I kept dreaming about cheese wheels last night
Starr: Clearly there must be something Freudian about that
Me: I probably want to fuck a giant cheese wheel

[Büge]

I had this weird dream last night about a Metroidvania starring WWF wrestlers. It used a "tag team" system like Castlevainia III, and if you unlocked Chyna, you got to visit the secret level.

[Mongrel]

if you "unlocked" Chyna, you got to visit the "secret level".

Now that's Freudian.

[R^2]

The category on "Jeopardy!" was "Benjamin Franklin".

The $100 answer was "A skilled inventor, this man came up with the spectacles, the glass armonica, and a stove -- named after himself."

The question was, of course, "Who is Benjamin Franklin?"

The $200 answer was "He served as an ambassador to France during the American Revolution."

The question, again, "Who is Benjamin Franklin?"

The $300 answer was "Poor Richard! He didn't write his own almanac; it was written by this person."

The whole category was like that. The contestant who answered just "Who is Franklin?" got withering stares from Trebek.

[Ted Belmont]

So uhhh

I had a sex dream about Hillary Clinton

[Büge]

I dreamed I won $10,000.

[Silversong]

I dreamt about shopping for socks. I was pretty happy about it, too.

[R^2]

Well, you would be.

[Mongrel]

Starr posted this one elsewhere today:

This morning I dreamed I was running a rescue op saving Ulysses' pigman crew from the island of Circe. At some point, I got caught.

Her goons, a handful of bald-shaven middle-aged guys in white priestly robes, tied me into a chair in an empty dark room. They were laughing about it, saying "You're going to regret this for a long while," "Like maybe two, maybe three days at most, lol" "Depends on which end they start burning first." With those reassuring words, they shut me up in there in complete pitch blackness.

After the obligatory seeming eternity, in which I had fallen asleep cramped and leaning sideways in the chair, I was woken up by a scraping noise and muffled voices, and a bright light. It was Circe, along with some goons, who brought in a second chair and a folding table. One goon placed an old-fashioned miners lamp and a brass pitcher of water on the table. Then the goons filed out, presumably to leave Circe and me alone so she could interrogate/browbeat/soliloquize me before killing me in a gruesome and suitably villainous way.

Instead she just said, "You look like shit." I was thinking of smarting off to her but then out of nowhere, came some gimmicky inspiration.

"Soooo...." I started. "You caught me. I was helping the pigmen but really, perhaps I could help you. See, what I really came to these islands for was to find the Fountain of Youth."

"You don't say? Well, I reassure you that I've lived here for oh, about two hundred years and walked every speck of dirt at least three times and never found anything like that here."

"Two hundred...are you pulling my leg? Srsly? Pull the other one, it's got bells on. Even Solon didn't live that long, and he was the cherry of the Historian's fruitcake. You may be drinking its waters right as we speak!" I tilted my chin towards the brass ewer. Of course, she never offers any of her victims a merciful swig, I thought.

"Solon who?" she frowned. Then she leaned forward, hungrily searching my eyes for truth. "Exactly how much DO you know?"

I leaned back in my chair, resting on the loops of rope around my wrists. "I know for a fact," I said with dramatic conviction, "that there is not only one Fountain of Youth, that there are in fact three." Behind my smug smile, I briefly panicked. What? Where are they? Will she buy it? Where was all this BS coming from?

"Tell me more," she said, holding her cup up and looking more closely at the lamplight reflected on the dark water.

"We-e-ell," I sighed, pausing to come up with something plausible. I drew a blank. Her midnight-black eyes bored into me. Rather than break her stare, I spaced out behind fixed gaze and tried to clear my mind. Instead, a comical youtube short featuring Leonidas' head pasted on some footballer's body came to mind. "Okay, you know how Alexander the Great of Macedonia conquered the throne of Persia, right?" Blank stare. "Well maybe it hasn't happened yet, but the story goes that Alexander led an army of 20,000 elites across the sea and deep into Persia, defeating the Persians and their allies at every battle. Even though he was outnumbered. His fighting men healed from their wounds with record speed. They knew so many strategies and techniques of fighting, it was impossible to outflank them or match them. And some people said for generations afterwards, they were immortal.

"Their secret was that Alexander's fighting men were the same men who defended Macedonia from the Thracians and Scythians and won Philip his throne. Of course, by the time Alexander marched off to war, some of them had to be fifty, sixty years old. But if you look at the pensions for Alexandria of the East, even fifty years after the war there were soldiers from the original Eklektoi still taking a pension. It's something he found in Persia, before the wars. Some secret held by the Immortals of Darius himself.

"As it turns out, at the bottom of the Caspian Sea is a hot spring. They send a diving boy to the depths once a year to gather a single cup of the hot water, and haul him back up using an iron chain. Then they kill him, and slit open his belly to empty his stomach into a second cup. So precious is the water, they say, that nobody can resist taking some for themselves. So they have to slay the boy, to recover the stolen water and keep the secret intact. But what I was told, was that the reason they must slay the boy, is by the time he is pulled back to the surface, he is only a tiny newborn baby. And that baby has dropped the cup into the depths, and started crying, and taken in some of the spring water. So that the only source of magic water they actually have, is inside the tiny baby.

"So potent is this spring, that the user can take only one drop at a time, and must wait and watch what happens before taking the next drop. The effects vary based on the user's original age, his health and general constitution, and even the size of the drop. It is also known to be more potent at night, under the open sky. So for generations, the kings of Persia would order their royal guards to lie out in a vast courtyard under the full moon, and a Magus walk between them, letting a tiny drop of spring water fall into their mouths off the tip of a rose thorn.

"And so it was that Alexander found the secret and used it on his own elite soldiers. A fisherman sailing down the Euphrates saw them all lined up along the beach, mouths open, and a purple-robed priest walking among them and giving each a drop. Each time he did this, a few would become too young to fight, and were rotated back into the baggage column or kitchens. So over time the 20,000 became fewer and fewer, but it was hardly noticeable because each man had three generations' fighting prowess in him.

"He learned of this from a diving boy who had unusual cleverness. This boy, instead of allowing himself to be lowered into the abyss with the rejuvenating water, caught a reef and instead let the chain lower only the cup into the depths. Marking the length of the chain, he swam far away and made his escape through the mountains. Armed with this knowledge of the spring's exact location and depth, he presented himself to Alexander and led him to the spring. He retrieved a flask of water for the general and demonstrated its use on an old nanny goat. Unfortunately, Alexander killed him on the spot and confiscated the flask, which was enough drops to keep all of his men the same age for generations. When Alexander himself died, he was the last one who knew exactly where the spring was.

"There is another spring, one not nearly as potent, but far more accessible. It's on a lost island. The occasional sailor who becomes shipwrecked there is found decades later, looking as youthful and strong as the day he left port. It breaks his heart when he sees that his family are all old and wizened, or dead a long time ago. Some say it wasn't the water itself, but a type of fish swimming in it that bore eternal youth in its flesh.

"And a third spring, although this one is not nearly as secret, or as pleasant. It grants immortality. It is under the steaming vapours of Delphi, and can only be accessed through the atrium of the Oracle. Sadly, the immortal waters do not keep the body young and healthy, but allow it to grow old and sick."

I stopped there, apparently running out of ideas. Circe blinked. "And?"

"Well, that's it. Any of those would do. Want to help me find it? Well, we have to go to Greece first. Who doesn't want to go to Greece? So lovely..."

And then I woke up.

[Büge]

Wow. All I dreamed about last night was a goldfish that had swum up my bathtub drain and grew too big to swim back.

[McDohl]

Speaking of my bathtub drain, last night I dreamed that I was pulling out hair clogs from hell from my bathtub drain.

[Silversong]

I blacked out as an airplane crashed to the ground in an airport. When I came to, we were sitting in two white Ford pickup trucks attached one before the other, with bits of 'airplane' shape stuck around them like an eggshell.

[JDigital]

Well there's your problem.

[Mongrel]

I don't remember how things started but halfway through the dream I was part of an expedition to Antarctica to find some lost tribe of dinosaur men and ended with me stuffing a smirking ship captain into a cardboard box and beating the crap out of him for being an asshole and deliberately violating the maritime code by refusing to render assistance to a ship in distress (and stealing supplies).

All of my dreams are pulp adventures, really.