Weird Dream(s)

[JoeP]

Originally Posted by SharonDee

but she was being tactful about it. (Hey, it was a dream, all right?!)

Are you saying that's when you realised "this has to be a dream"?

[Dingfod]

Heh.

[Ymir's blood]

This morning, I dreamt that Demi had an old mansion and we were staying there for the weekend. There were these glowing red spectres haunting the place.
At first I was scared but when one attacked me I absorbed it. Then I hunted the rest down and got them too

[BrotherMan]

omg demi you must buy a new house so this can be a real thing!

[Crumb]

[Ari]

At some point I'll finish writing a more indepth post.
I had a dream where I willfully phased through walls/things/people. At one point this broke dream universe friction but I was able to reattach and use it to produce moon gravity.
This is not that weird or uncommon anymore.

[Dingfod]

I dreamed I was going to some sort of fund-raising banquet at a high school. The high school principal was Kurtwood Smith (Clarence Boddicker, Red Forman), who called me a dumbass because I didn't know where the gym was.

[lisarea]

ARGHKAKAKAK.

I figured out One Weird Trick to solve a really bad problem. It's a sort of juggling maneuver, where you pop something up with your elbow, then toss it from one hand to another, then elbow hit it again. Or something.

Dang it. I was so relieved, too. I don't even remember what the problem was now, much less how to solve it.

(Once, my sister dreamt the cure for hantavirus, which involved standing at four corners, wrapping some things up in toilet paper, then releasing them in a specific sequence to several named winds. I guess she never remembered the exact formula, though, because hantavirus still exists. She is such a jerk!)

[Qingdai]

Apparently in my dreams the band Døkken or however it's spelled, is also a band of midwives. So don't be alarmed when they cancel a concert to deliver a baby.
BAAABBYY!

I don't recall ever hearing Døkken, but my subconscious may be a big fan.

Although it may be because two of their hits are "Dream Warriors" and "In my Dreams" which I did not know until now.

[Ymir's blood]

Just think 80's hair metal, but don't think about it long.

[Sock Puppet]

Oh gawd, I actually saw them once in the 80s. They opened for somebody I was actually there to see, probably Dio. What I remember most about them was that the lead singer led a high school pep rally type game of "Let's See Which Side of the Venue Can Yell the Loudest." Yes, seriously. I'm not sure how long it lasted, prolly only a few minutes, but in my memory it was like half their fucking set. At least they weren't playing their warmed-over buttrock during that time.

[Qingdai]

I have also seen the Dio, I don't remember who opened for him.
Although an on line page lists Whitesnake and/or Black and Blue or possibly Yngwie Malmsteen. I think it might have been Yngwie.

[Dingfod]

Have any of those bands ever had a hit on the Billboard Top 100?

[Ensign Steve]

God, remember Rockin' Like Dokken?

[Sock Puppet]

I saw Dio multiple times, which is why I guessed it was prolly him. But I did see Yngwie once, so that could've been it.

The other big Dokken tie-in for me was the old mulletsgalore.com web site, which is also where I think I first encountered the term "Butt Rock."

[Qingdai]

Lord, my dad was the first one to tell me the phrase "butt rock."

I don't know if any of those bands had Top 100 hits, Ding. They were sort of their own genre. I don't recall Rockin' like Dokken, either.

Actually I don't recall a lot of the 1980s. Whoo. Hoo.

[Dingfod]

I had a weird dream after I hit snooze on my alarm this morning, a dream that involved a house on a hillside with four story apartments towering behind it, a tornado that went by in the night before we knew there was one, and more. I saw the rotation of the twister on a smartphone app before I saw the actual thing. The tornado caused a huge greenhouse made of wooden frame and plastic to catch fire and burn in a huge inferno similar to the Hindenburg but on the ground, the glow of which I first thought was the rising sun. Still dark, but in the glow, this was immediately followed by a smiling Ed O'Neill wearing a WW2 leather pilot helmet while piloting a small open-topped flying saucer that made Jetson's flying car noises. Ed flew a few circles around the house, smiling and waving at me. He then flew off up by the apartments on the hill above the house, Apartment 4, specifically. The apartment buildings were dark blue with white painted numbers about two meter high on them. Then my dad was palling around with a bartender I know, Dad getting a curly perm in his hair like the bartender. The bartender told me that two of them were plotting to kill my mom with a gun because she wouldn't have sex with the two of them, and that my dad was getting very horny, something I really didn't need to know. Dad shot a revolver at an older couple walking up the driveway because they were getting in the way of a clean shot at Mom. He missed. Mom threw landscaping stones at Dad and the bartender after they missed and were reloading the gun. I recall that the loading gate on the revolver was on the left side toward the bottom of the cylinder. Weird, I know. One stone hit the bartender in the back knocking him down, another hitting the retaining wall made of loose stack landscaping stones of the same variety which mom was throwing. Part of the wall then fell on the bartender, partially burying him. The gun ran out of ammunition and Mom and Dad embraced at the end. I awoke from that about six minutes after I had hit snooze.

Yeah, I know, Ed O'Neill piloting a flying saucer while wearing a WW2 leather pilot helmet. I could explain that if I had still been taking pain medication, but I don't have that excuse.

[Dingfod]

A few days ago I dreamed I was cleaning up some clutter on a desk at work. I found a divider portfolio that was labeled "TIME SLIPS". I asked a coworker what I should do with them. He responded in a poor impersonation of Sean Connery's James Bond, "Those should be top shecret. Do you have a rubber band, Miss Moneypenny?" I responded with my best Bond villain, "No, Mr. Bond, I intend for you to die?" as I shot one at him. Just as I was putting the large rubber band on the folder, leesifer popped her head in the office door and said, "You two, those don't need to be bonded."

[Janet]

Last night I was lying in bed, not quite sleepy yet, thinking about all the variations my delusions had been taking and all the weird things my sleep disorder had made me do. I remembered that for what seemed like several months last year I was convinced that my bed was some medical table/bed in a space ship and I was hooked up to some machine. It suddenly struck me that some of these alien abduction stories might be parasomnia-induced. I already know many ghost stories are misunderstood instances of sleep disorders, but it hadn't occurred to me before that alien abductions might be as well.

Oh, and last night some wizard or something came into my room and put some plastic thing above my window. I'm sure it was supposed to do something, but that's about all I remember of last night's delusion. Unless you count the later realization that I was just staring at the light sneaking in above my curtains and projecting weirdness onto that spot. As you do.

[Dingfod]

I once awakened with sleep paralysis and thought my robe hanging on a hook on my closet door was some sort of demon staring at from the shadows.

[JoeP]

Wake up, sheeple! Don't you think that kind of pseudoscientific claptrap is exactly what the ghosts, demons and aliens want you to believe?

[Ymir's blood]

Has anybody seen my Plastic Thing? I can't seem to recall where I may have left it.

[Dingfod]

Originally Posted by Dingfod

I once awakened with sleep paralysis and thought my robe hanging on a hook on my closet door was some sort of demon staring at from the shadows.

Not a demon, it was Death.

Originally Posted by Dingfod

I was having a lovely dream (the content of which I now forget) when I was awakened by what I thought was someone or something breathing heavily next to my bed. When I opened my eyes, I saw Death standing by my bed, scythe and all. I blinked twice and still saw the image, I instinctively kicked toward this figure standing by my bed. At this, Death seemed to recede to my open closet door. It totally freaked me out. I laid there in the dark, still seeing the shape of Death lurking near my closet. Slowly I could make out the Death-shape was actually my navy blue robe I left hanging on the door.

[Demimonde]

Last night, as I was trying to fall asleep, I kept having tactile hallucinations. I would be drifting off and then suddenly it felt like someone or something was grabbing both my hands, pulling and twisting them. Each time it had some kind of dream component so I felt like I knew who or what it was. I would try and pull away but it would get stronger and more freaky, then I would jolt awake. Every time Contra was on the other side of the bed, the dogs were at my feet or in their beds, and my hands were free of the covers. Very, very weird.

If I was the kind of person to believe in ghosts, I am sure I would have attributed it to that.

In my dream last night, I wasn't myself again. I was a young teenage girl in a small town post WW1 or WW2. There was a veteran I would visit, who was a young man, but confined to his bed from injuries. I am not sure if he was paralyzed or an amputee. I do remember something about him having to use a catheter, which embarrassed us both. I had a friend who came with me, but she sat in a chair in the hallway outside the door and didn't come in.

I was visiting him after school and reading to him. I am pretty sure I was in love with him. My parents didn't like it though and I got lectured about it when I went home for dinner. My sister was smirking at me about it and I kicked her under the table.

[Dingfod]

But, you want to talk about weird dreams, I dreamed this one just about four years ago.

Originally Posted by Dingfod

During my sleep time today, I had a dream, a dramatic theme suitable for a made-for-TV movie. In this dream, a spoiled rich young man who looked just like a young Timothy Bottoms was goofing around with a gun with three friends, ended up killing one of them by accident when the gun went off as he was spinning it. He swore the other two friends to secrecy, then the three of them dumped the body off a bridge into a creek. The Timothy Bottoms guy went about his life as though nothing had happened. He still lived at home with his mother, a petite woman with salt and pepper curly hair, narrow face and a pointed chin. This woman:



Anyway, back to the dream, more about the woman later. The girlfriend of the guy he had killed filed a missing persons report with the local sheriff a couple days later. Then a guy walking down the road smelled his rotting carcass when he walked over the bridge. Investigators poured over the site, but found little clues there. Meanwhile, one of the two surviving friends of Mr. Bottoms character began to feel guilty about what happened, told Mr. Bottoms about it. Nothing happened to him then, but later that day, when he was just about to open the door to the sheriff's office, he was shot by a high powered rifle.

The remaining friend freaked out, told the first dead guy's girlfriend that Mr. Bottoms had done it. They called Mr. Bottom's mother to ask her what to do about it. She told them to come to the house. It just happened that his mother was hosting a party, one that I was in attendance for some weird reason. Mr. Bottoms saw his friend and the girlfriend driving through town toward his mother's house, gave chase with his Corvette. Both cars sped at high speed down a winding driveway down a hill into a broad valley where the big house was located. The couple's car skidded to a stop outside the front door, they jumped out ran up the steps as Mr. Bottoms got out of his car with a high powered rifle. He shot his friend in the back from close range and was about to shoot the girlfriend, but then the door flew open.

It was his mother that opened the door, a thin frail old woman, grabbed the rifle from her son, handed it to me, then slapped her son in the face. He turned and ran across the huge lawn into an open field. His mother turned to me and said "Shoot him." I looked through the scope and sighted in on the running man, but concerned about possibly missing and the bullet traveling into the houses on the hillside, I couldn't do it. She grabbed the gun from me and quickly shot him dead, a head shot at about 400 yards. She then said "Sometimes you have to love them enough to put them down."

Then I woke up. The mother in the dream was a woman I've seen in numerous movies and television series. I could not think of her name until I saw this news story in the Tulsa World saying she, Nan Martin, had died Thursday. I swear I did not know that, but maybe I did without being conscious of it. Weird.