I've only had like 3 dreams in the last 5 years. Or I should say, it ain't that I don't HAVE them, I just don't remember 'em. They happen, I'm sure...........but when I wake up it's all blank. So imagine my surprise when I woke up this morning and remembered perfectly the dream I just had. I was beginning to think I just didn't have a soul anymore. Or that my brain was going rogue and being an asshole by rationing out my dreams for his own sick entertainment, maybe to get me back for all those years of filling my skull up with smoke. Apparently I can still dream, though.
I don't know what was different last night from any other night, but I wish it would happen more often because my dreams are hilarious. I'm really missing out. Maybe it was the fact that I killed a whole bottle of champagne last night. Why? Because my father-in-law couldn't get the cork back on. He didn't want to waste it, but also didn't want to help finish it off, a combination that put me in a tough spot since everyone knows I'm morally opposed to people wasting perfectly good alcohol, with the obvious exception of the time me and my brother stood on a rooftop by a major street in the middle of the night, shook full beer cans and threw them in front of cars and watched the people swerve in horror from the mini-explosions of Lone Star. Those were simpler times.
I really hope that's not the actual solution to my problem, though. Champagne. How embarrassing would it be to explain THAT shit on A&E Intervention? The bald guy is giving his little speech, "I just see a whole bunch of people who love ya to death, and they feel like they're losing ya, and they wanna fight to get ya back. So what's gonna happen is they're gonna talk and then you're gonna talk and then we're all gonna watch it back on my forehead. So Sandman, why did you become an alcoholic?"
"To make dreams come back for make feel good."
"...........This is the alcoholic kid, right? I thought we were doing the paint huffer next week? Can somebody get this kid outta my face, why is he climbing on my back?!"
"Happy New Years! Happy New Years, Dr Phil!!!"
So it starts with me walking through my old middle school, only it's some 17-story hyper-realized grand ballroom version of my old middle school, which for some reason is always the way I dream about old schools I went to. It's probably better that way, since my middle school was a certified shithole with more cops than teachers and a daycare center. So I'm winding my way up the spiral staircase going to computer class (which we all know shoulda just been called Oregon Trail 101) and I pass by this room with some old asian guy standing alone dancing back and forth with himself. It's extremely creepy, so logically I go in to get a better look, which is what we all do when we see a mentally ill person dancing with an imaginary partner. He immediately stops dancing, swings around, and it's George Takei. The asian guy who played Dr. Sulu on the original Star Trek. Now........that's a strange thing for anyone to dream about, but I happen to be a 23 year old who's never watched one episode of Star Trek in his life, much less the 1960's version that was hot when my pops was a pre-teen. I literally only know who George Takei is because of one Simpsons episode, and the William Shatner Roast on comedy central. That's it. I had to use wikipedia just to spell his name right. So now he's two feet in front of me in my dream, and he's giving me a real uncomfortable stare, and finally he says, "Do you want to hear a song?" How can I say no? He proceeds to sing "What's the Story, Morning Glory" by Oasis, which I assume was only in the dream because I had heard it on the radio yesterday afternoon. He sung the whole song, and then I woke up. The End.
If you don't know who George Takei is, you're probably wondering why I even wasted the time to type that out. But if you know who George Takei is, and you've heard him speak, then you know why I've been laughing nonstop about this all day. In the car, laughing. On the toilet, laughing. At the mall, crackin' the fuck up. It's a funny ass visual. "All your dreams are maaaaaaaade..........." I'm laughing right now writing this sentence.
So now I've decided that if I ever get rich, I'm gonna get George Takei to sing "What's the Story" to a camera and sell me the tape. He can name the price. Whenever I'm having a bad day, I'll just pop that hoe in and all will be right in the world. Religions are built around less.
Hope everyone got through hangover day in one piece.