Doom Dreams

[Drunk Monk]

I’m at some hotel at their buffet trying to grab lunch. I’m hungry and it’s late, like 2ish and they’re shutting down the buffer (there was more proof to this part about the hotel and who I was with and what it was all about but I forget that now). The maitre d’hotel rushes me in a condescending way when a pause over some exotic fruit and it triggers me. I launch into this huge yelling tirade about how poorly I’m being treated despite my company paying good money for the hotel, yelling loudly and making a scene. The dude flees in terror. I go back and they’ve bussed my plate a put away much of the buffet offerings. Fortunately I find another plate and the two salmon dishes are still there, condensed to one platter, burn there’s still a lot. With intentions to grab all the salmon that remains, I wait for a friend to finish getting some salmon - it’s Nesticles which is ironic because he doesn’t like fish. He’s taking his time so I get some salad which has a lot of pickled garlic in it. My old partner in crime Keith from RM who got himself blackballed like before Jerry died was there - he cheers me on about the rant.

Psych: maybe my blood sugar dropped last night but I don’t think so. I had a substantial dinner but I am a bit pecking now. I’m thinking the hotel buffet was some flashback to traveling to tournaments for KFM, perhaps elicited by my TC visit yesterday. The appearance of Nesticles & Keith we’re because I sent out an email to the JNK yesterday - my first in over a year - updating them about what the concert outlook is now.

[Drunk Monk]

This weekend would’ve been TCEC. Consequently I had a tournament MC anxiety nightmare. 

I’m at the venue and it’s the crunch - when competitors start entering. The venue is huge, a deep pit like the Grand Canyon, but with a floor like white vinyl, no bleachers, attendees just sit on the sloped sides, and it looks hundreds of feet deep. The people handling the gates are not my Dragon crew - they are typical tc vols and they are clueless. They can’t handle the onslaught and have left one side completely uncontrolled. I see a sensei so went to Shaolin with me the first two trips. He’s coming in with his team which strikes me as odd because he’s a sport karate guy. I try to get to him to say hi but I miss him and he slides into the depths of the venue. Then the piddling inane questions begin. They are all simple to answer but take time.

I wake up stressed but mildly amused.

I go back to sleep and am in Lam Kwoon but Lynn has remodeled it so it looks like a bamboo tea house in the tropics. I’m in back with Jason, one of my JNK, who is showing off a tool roll carrying case his wife and kid made for him. We are going through his collection of blades and chatting about them. I ask him about a Logitech blade he has because I had a few of those and if he likes them. Then he shows me a pattern welded Grateful Dead knife with a skulls and roses motif in the steel folds. I look up and realize class should’ve started 15 mins ago. I jump up to take over but the tea house architecture is an impediment. There’s screens everywhere that have to be cleared to make floor space. There are about 50 students and I get them to start moving things. None of us have shoes because now it’s customary to take them off and we’re all in socks. That irritates me. I start putting on my belt but there’s a kink in it. Jason insists on getting that kink out with his tools and takes my belt away. I get fed up and drop everyone into horse stance but now there are only a few left, less than a dozen. No one has skill and I start describing seiping ma (4 corner horse stance). I wake up again amen wonder if the cfs weren’t there.

Psych: I got some unique ptsd.

[Drunk Monk]

Dreamt I was working a Dead show. I’m sitting with a group of old deadhead industry friends but I don’t know who they are exactly. They are telling me about the death of someone - Sarah? Susan? Someone I knew and she has willed me something and they want to know what I want to do about it. We are in some sort of festival tent and there’s a huge pile of odds and ends, mostly altar items, including a large stone Buddha head about 3 ft tall. I keep asking what the inheritance is and they are elusive. Finally, they present me with a small 2-piece purple stone display stand for a statue or something. I’m pleased and tell them I have the perfect piece to display on it. They are pleased too and we part ways. I get up to go and my pants are undone so I have to buckle up and reposition my radio. On the way back to RM, I see a restraint in progress - a patient is being backboarded, but he’s docile. I blend in because I’d been ‘on break’ for so long at this meeting. Some nooBs raise eyebrows but I shrug that off.

Psychoanalysis: Clearly I’m processing the upcoming Bobby show - http://www.brotherhoodofdoom.com/doomFor...p?tid=6410. I just bought some new BDU pants to replace the Kuhl pair I shredded in Yosemite and will try them on today. I also bought 1K of lammy pouches and have a design in mind if I can get my work done this weekend. The nooBs won’t understand it and I’ve been playing a potential talk about it in my head if given the opportunity. We’ll see if I get there. I have great trepidation’s about the changes due to the pandemic, particularly with our psych protocols. Again, we shall see.

[Drunk Monk]

I’m at a liquor store and it has some offerings in a display outside. I find a nice bottle of whiskey, grab it and head into the store to buy it. It’s night and the store is brightly lit. But like Alice, the door is too small. I cannot get my head through the door frame. I get rather angry and try to squeeze my head in to no avail. 

I wake up really frustrated. Still trying to shake off the frustration.

[thatguy]

DRINK ME!

--tg

[King Bob]

Dreamed I was walking along the edge of a coastal mountain highway., sort of like Hwy 17, but only existing in my dream. There was not really anywhere to walk at the edge of the road, so I stepped down into a drainage ditch. I started thinking that if there were a flash flood I would be drowned, and I saw just a trickle of water coming down, so I stepped up out of the ditch to avoid the flood. Then I woke up. So apparently I will avoid some trouble.

[Drunk Monk]

I’m staying at someone’s house as a guest i think and I try to find the room where I’m sleeping. It’s dark or maybe I’m blind, but in this small house I seem to have lost my way. I go to a room where I think I should be but can’t find my backpack. There’s a disheveled bed that I may have slept in the night before, and a child’s bed that I don’t recognize. I go back out into the hall to see if there’s more doors and find a sliding one at the wrong angle that leads to a locker room, or maybe a large bathroom. Some one is in it so I close the door discreetly and return to the previous room. I don’t want to trouble my hosts, whoever they are, and tell them I don’t know where I am. I’m worried they’ll think I’m drunk, or just dumb. I find another door in that room that leads to a master bedroom where there’s a large mastiff sitting on a chair by the master bed who looks back at me curiously. I return to the original room and decide that is correct. Now there’s some other pet there. Remember I can’t see well. I think it’s a cat. I reach down to let it and decide that it must be a cat. 

I wake up having only been asleep a few minutes.

This is clearly due to my lack of sleep and staying in the Golden Nugget by myself. I’m still discombobulated. And my sleep pattern rhythm is all messed up.

[Drunk Monk]

I’m in a large mansion-like house with several people I know. It’s like a class field trip or maybe it’s a group home. I’m an outsider somehow. There’s talk of a meteor shower and I go outside alone. It’s pouring stardust, like powdery gold. I leap and dance in it. I let it hit my chest, my face, everywhere.Everything is glowing Golden. I climb a pine tree that covered in magical glowing gold like cave crystals, to rap on a 2nd story window of a friend (a gal I know from RM who just announced she’s starting a masters program in psych on Facebook),

The viewpoint changes to hers. She sees me in the snow - no meteor shower - acting like I’m tripping. I’ve had a break with reality and I’ll likely freeze to death. She goes back to sleep.

I wake up troubled.

Not going to psychoanalize this one. Too disturbing.

I will say I think I read that there were meteor showers last night. And that the vision and sensation of Golden stardust was beautiful.

[Greg]

Draconoid meteor shower is currently going.

[Drunk Monk]

I’m at a festival in a huge RM tent (I dream a lot about festivals, don’t I?) A nooB vol tries to tell me something but I don’t understand. Then I see it - a couple who has their baby in a clear plastic bin container with holes poked in it for air. I tell the nooB that there isn't anything medicslly wrong and he should talk to them if he has concerns, but I wind up talking to them. The dad is absent. The mom is high and defiant. 

Cut to a hospital waiting room. We’re still talking to the mom and she sneaks a toke. Cut to the dad’s campsite. It’s just a tarp with some trash - empty fast food bags. 

Cut back to RM - the mom is pissing me off. Everyone wants something done but no one is doing anything: I threaten the mom with CPS, telling her we’re in the legal right to take the child away because she’s on drugs. 

I wake up stressed.

This is a pre-OSL Dream. The CPS play is the darkest apart from a death and I’ve been involved in those a few times. I hate them. The container is because our living room is full of them - Stacy emptied our shed of stored books because of the atmospheric river. The fast food was because Tara picked up Betty’s for lunch yesterday.

[Greg]

I'm in some parade or street but I'm right next to Barack Obama. I try to get a picture with my cel phone but there is some filter on the camera that I can switch off that is pixelating his head. The picture is unrecognizable. I keep trying things to remove the filter but nothing.

Then I'm looking at my car which is Volkswagen Beetle, on it's side in a giant swimming pool. The Beetle has a terrible paint job like it was originally yellow but someone has tried to make it blue. The car moves in the pool away from me. I can't figure out how it moves until I see the two sharks pushing it.

[Drunk Monk]

I'm at a festival campout with my krew - the show is over and I'm packing up my tent. I'm talking to Herbox, a dear KF brother, JNK founder and fellow Grateful Dead lion dancer alongside me and the cfs. We are chatting about life and such, and Nico, the cub of two powerful JNK friends, is playing as we are collecting our things. We bid adieu and I head off to find my car. But it's gone. I realize that some sort of structure has been set up where I thought I parked it and that it must have been towed. I find the tow lot - it's a sloped dirt hill filled with cars. I use my remote key to try to get Darth to beep, but no luck. I'm sure it's there somewhere but I'm getting worried that the battery to my remote key is running low. 

I wake up mildly stressed and somewhat nostalgic. 

Psychoanalysis: Still processing post-fest life, obvs

[Greg]

I must have dreamed I posted the following and never did.


Why does my credit card keep getting declined at Chinese restaurants in my dreams?

[Drunk Monk]

I must have dreamed I posted the following and never did.


Why does my credit card keep getting declined at Chinese restaurants in my dreams?

Why do my credit cards keep getting declined in my dreams specifically at Chinese restaurants. I also don't appreciate the water streaming out of a circuit breaker and into my face.

Psychoanalysis: Clearly I am the Chinese restaurant and I don't like what your subconscious is implying. 

Maybe it's my circuit breaker is streaming into your face too? No, I'm not comfortable with that either. 

Can we go back to tQ dreaming about my cummerbund?

[Greg]

I feel my dreams have been misquoted and misinterpreted. Also, ewwww.