I’m tired of being dragged into dreams that are more like bad film classes than actually feeling like I got any rest. Either I need to do something different or take some sleeping pills.
Take for instance the dreams I had last night. One was in third person. The characters were preppy high schoolers. A guy was assigned with a girl to work on a project. He’s clueless and a bit naive and doesn’t understand why the girl was snubbing him. (I don’t even understand why, and I’m supposed to be the omniscient viewer!) Two jealous guys trick the protagonist to go to a park that looks very similar to the one where Charlie Sheen confronts Michael Douglas at the ending of Wall Street. They beat the crap out of him and call the cops to haul him to jail. People inform him that there’s no way he can prove himself innocent of charges that he assaulted the girl (even though there’s no evidence against him).
In another dream, I had ten kids. I kept wondering: Who was the father? How was it possible that I had two sets of quintuplets? How can I take care of them even though I’m a student? Needless to say, this was a scary dream because of the implied responsibility. Yeah, there are people my age who already have kids going to preschool and maybe ten years from now I might decide to have children, but right now I don’t even want to think about having mini-me’s running around.
Links with commentary:
Judge-it – It’s the reviewer’s version of meta-metablogs!
What Muppet Are You? I am Kermit.
What Color Yoshi Are You? I’m orange.
Stupid goldfish. (via Daypop) I was pretty suspicious. I thought it was some sort of script at first, but then I realized that the links were to plain html pages and soon figured the whole puzzel out. Hint: memorize all the cards, not just one.