I win...

In having one of the sickest and weirdest dreams ever last night. Suffering from extreme jetlag, I have been taking these "natural" sleeping pills that my dad gave me to get over the hump. What they may not explain on the bottle (I have no bottle, I just keep these little drops of wonder in a matchbox), is that these compressed cocktails of herbs induce some crazy-fucked-up dream within dreams. Last night was one example of an odyssey that seemed to take place over a matter of many days, but based on my repeated wake-ups through the night, it only took a matter of one-and-three-quarters of an hour.

I guess I could sum up my dreams in a couple of seconds. Basically, I was recruited by the Wu-Tang Clan, specifically RZA and Method Man, to clash with a rival gang of faceless hooded figures (who scarily resembled Lord Voldermort). I was given a sick sub-machine gun, and I iced fools. The battle was going well, and we were kicking ass. Then, our battle took a turn for the worse. I lost my sub, and it started to snow. I found a stray gat with only a couple of rounds left in it. The rest of the Wu ran out of bullets. I was picking up frozen bullets off of the ground and trying to load them into my magazine when the last standing hooded figure went around and killed the rest of the Wu execution style (easily one of the worst moments of my unconscious life, other than many other tragic deaths--which suck ass, am I right?). I was the last to go, and I woke up with a gasp, and I swear I saw my killers face. Is it possible to die in your own dreams? (Note: also, something I have noticed recently is my inability to see myself in my dreams. A couple of days ago, someone was trying to take a Polaroid of a group I was standing with, and I remember I held my hand in front of my face and said, "no pictures". When the picture developed, my face was not in it...weird). When I woke up, I thought I was being attacked again, as my still-packed suitcase was standing upright and I had hung my pants over the bar (another leering shadowy figure).

Sleep...

This is when it got weird, maybe I just thought it was really strange, but when I went back to sleep I went to this party in someone's basement and almost everyone I knew was there. I go up to Taylor Shell who is standing with Bubs, Hungry, and Injury-dumbass, and say, "you will never guess the dream I just had," and Taylor responds, "you just had a gunfight with RZA and Method Man." I was shocked.

Nevermind, this is one of the most random posts I have ever done I think, but I have been having a lot of weird dreams lately, and I think a lot of it is dues to the gauntlet that I have been putting my body through In terms of dreams. On the plane on my way home all i did was sleep, and when I tried to catch a football, I knocked over all of the glasses on the tray between me and this Japanese guy looked at me really weird (he was watching Ms. Congeniality, so what the hell does he know). Dreams are very confusing, so I think I am going to take a class on them next year, but that may ruin the entire experience for me, ignorance is bliss, and the last thing I want to hear is that all of my dreams are filled with creepy Freudian principles. Fuck that, I like my sleep, and if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

DONE!

I just got a new issue of my bible THE FADER magazine, and it was filled with some really sick music. I will share with you all, including a new sound coming out of Baton Rouge, Lil Boosie. Peace.

p.s. the new Subway ad with the $5 footlong is really sexual.

p.p.s. George W. Bush was incredible on ESPN last night, from getting jeered when he threw the first pitch to his awful call of the first home run by Chipper Jones, I laughed. Looks at the man try to learn cricket.