whiski_sour: (wtfx4)
I've been having wacked out dreams all week, usually more than one a night.

They've included parades, house parties, planes, dirty text messages, cats, elevators, overflowing bathtubs, fireworks, trying to get to school on time, high school math teachers, drum sets, dirty socks, and featured guest appearances by Aaron Douglas, Danny DeVito, Mike Farrell, Michael Weatherly, Sean Murray, and Wil Wheaton (allow me to clarify that no drugs were involved in the making of these subconscious films and I was not consulted on the casting either).

But last night was the ultimate. Last night was zombies. Not the classic slow moving zombies from Night of the Living Dead. Not the scary, fast moving zombies from 28 Days Later. Not even the zombies from Shaun of the Dead.

Nope, what I got was the zombies from Return of the Living Dead. If you've seen this movie, then you're probably giggling and saying, "Send more paramedics". If you haven't, then I have no idea what you do when there's nothing better on the TV.

I'll spare all of the details save this one boggling part. We decide our best bet is to fly away, so our little group gets on a plane. This very nice British guy and I go to check out the cockpit to find it's occupied by two talking skeletons. I turn to find that my companion has been attacked by two zombies and one of them rips his arm off at the elbow.

Horrible, right?

Yeah, except he keeps making polite conversation with the zombies while they're trying to eat him.

I look back at the skeleton pilots (who were probably doing schtick, I don't remember), look back at the Brit, and he's fine. The attacking zombies are gone, he's still polite, and he's duct taped his arm back on.

Feel free to reread that last bit as many times as necessary.

Apparently, my subconscious was just trying to reassure me that yes, duct tape really can fix anything.

Could you imagine what I'd come up with if I were on drugs?
whiski_sour: (darkside)
For reasons unknown to me, I couldn't fall asleep until nearly four this morning.

And when I did finally fall asleep, I dreamed that I was screaming "YOU ARE AN EVIL MINION FROM HELL!" then laughing maniacally at some old woman. And then I punched her and chased her around a backyard before finally capturing her and putting her into some weird-assed, full body, wire restraint thing.

To be fair, the woman was killing babies and I was frustrated that I couldn't prove that she was killing babies, hence the screaming and punching.

Most people would consider that disturbing.

I'm not most people.

However, since I didn't get to sleep until very late (or early, really) and I'm not often able to sleep past eleven, I feel my bedtime coming on rather quickly.

I wonder who I'm going to scream at tonight.

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Cheshyre

February 2014

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