True Pop-Punks

I was waiting in a line in a very well lit and expansive cave with my girlfriend. I recognized a lot of the people in the line from a medical marijuana clinic I once worked for (reality). The cave was not a clinic. Most of the people in the line were sitting on the floor because it was taking a long time. There were quite a few chain link fences around.

There were three stereotypical punks standing in front of my girlfriend and I in line: leather stud jackets, hair spikes, whatever. One was a tall guy, one was a girl, and the last one was extremely short and probably pretty young. The little one kept giving me the stink eye, until he finally started blue streaking me for no reason, Sid Vicious style. I was annoyed and slightly amused and asked his fairly indifferent companions to 'muzzle their runt'. I got a pretty big kick out of this in my dream and think I probably laughed out loud in real life. The little guy did not take this too well and spat at my girlfriend. I remember thinking/saying 'OK, fuck this' and calling security. Security showed up - looking a bit too much like Carl Winslow - and I explained the situation. He promptly stated he would have to throw all three of them in jail, and the three punks were very upset. Security asked if that would satisfy me, and I said that it definitely would.

Jail was literally a large pit behind a chain link fence in the cave, and when I went to look at the punks in jail, they were busy performing That Thing You Do by The Wonders. The tall guy was playing a marching bass drum, the girl was playing a guitar, and the little guy was the vocalist. I remember thinking 'Who the fuck gave these assholes instruments while they were in jail?'

Two and a Half Men Cause A Family Reunion

I was in a leadership role for a television show - maybe a producer or director. I was inside a large house with the rest of the cast and crew and our premier was going to be competing with a special announcement from Two and a Half Men. I was confident that we would beat them in the ratings.

The doorbell rang. When I opened the door a younger version of my now 10 years passed grandmother was there. I don't think it was absolutely true to what she looked like, but more like an older version of my mother. She was very pretty, none-the-less, and had an extremely bright red sweatshirt on. We hugged, and I told her I was surprised to see her because she was dead. It was dark outside, with a dark purple hue to things, and the sky was glowing orange like I was close to street lamps or a fire. She told me that because I was 'going back a few days in time' she could see me for a little while and wanted to know if I was alright. I told her about the premier and that I was excited. She was happy for me, and continued to meet my girlfriend and tell her I was nice.

I don't know how I feel about any of this.

OLD: Advice from Lord Baltimore

I was recently reminded by my friend Krishna of a dream I recounted to him. I don't remember the context of the dream - I only remember the end.

The dream involved some sort of cliffhanger scenario. I was watching myself in a car(?). The scene faded to black, and a quote appeared as if I were watching a movie:

"Needs more salt." - Lord Baltimore

I think I woke up because I was extremely confused. I'm fairly certain neither salt or Lord Baltimore had anything to do with my dream.

Bros Before Books

I was in a high school English class with my friend Jon K. that was being taught by David Schwimmer. Jon was writing between the margins of the 'in-class use' books - as in using them like notebook paper - and putting them back on the shelf. When Mr. Schwimmer found out he freaked out and had certain trusted class members - former high school classmates Annie K and Christina B. - write a "Who and Why" explanation on the chalk board and they both accused me because they think I'm an asshole. The rest of the class agreed I probably did it. I was shocked because I didn't know so many people didn't like me.

I proved it wasn't me by comparing my writing to the writing in the books. No one could deny my handwriting was very different. I was happy to be off the hook, but I knew Jon was getting closer to being caught. He was quiet in class though, and I did not think anyone would tattle on him.