I’m going to keep a dream journal. Which, I realize, sounds like a whole lot of fun if you’re, say, a young girl in junior high. You know what I say to that? Well, maybe I am! Or not. The point is, I have discovered a device which has given me Timothy Leary meets Hunter Thompson type dreams.
Let me explain the wonders of the Amazing Tempurpedic Swedish Memory Foam Pillow (ATSMFP). We just got a pair of these at our wedding shower, and they are amazing. A bit odd at first, kind of like sleeping on some tightly rolled-up T-Shirts. But I sleeeeeeeeeeep so well on them. As the wedding gets closer, the quality of my sleep has been declining. No dreams. But now, using the incredible ATSMFP, I’m back on dream street.
I’m having dreams like I did in third grade (the one with the kangaroo and the flying hammerhead sharks and the Pool of Mystery)… You should have been there.
Anyway, I need a dream journal now, because the last two nights have involved the following items:
A plot for a new novel, which is unrelated to…
An island resort in a tsunami, with Moses and Gandalf dueling to see whose magic is strong enough to fight the waves…
A little tavern where Madonna was putting on a show, and I could get free tickets for dressing up in a banana costume with a Jack-in-the-Box helmet, but Madonna didn’t give me the tickets even though I danced some kind of jazz ballet thing, so my fiancee went back in with me and we argued with Madonna.
Also, I’ve been reading a lot of Irvine Welsh lately, so there were many Scottish people involved.
The moral of the story is, using the ATSMFP is like a safe and slumber-y way of doing acid. But I’ve never done acid, so I can’t be 100% on this. But, as I said earlier, I have read a lot of Irvine Welsh, so vicariously, I’ve hung out with a lot of losers who do a lot of Scottish drugs. I read on Neil Gaiman’s website today that he uses moleskine’s notebooks, so I’m going to order one to see what it’s like for dream journaling.
The wedding is fast approaching, and I’ve got to buy a few things, including an MP3 player, among other expenses. So of course, my car has started acting up, my printer has stopped printing, and time is getting short. But we’ll make it. We always do!
Dreams are children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy. blah blah blah.
Idle brain? me? Idle? Would an idle brain be able to think of a witty reposte like… uh… like…
Idle brain?! Me?!