random…
Posted on January 3, 2009
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eagles in the superbowl and i’m dropped off in the streets with the crowd and i find my cousin francie’s ex boyfriend and hang with him since i can’t find anyone else.
there’s a crime spree around 10756 and we have our air conditioner unit on the chimney, bolted down, wondering if anyone can possibly push it over.
i lose a tooth. the one just behind the bottom canine…hours after beth and i discussed toothless endeavors after reading http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/personal/01/01/lw.burp.dating/index.html.
the night before i dreamt of the thumbsucker blond girl who sits next to me in computer class. beth and i were watching tv and there was a big identity fraud case in our area where thumbsucker was the victim. “I KNOW HER I KNOW HER SHE SUCKS HER THUMB IN CLASS I KNOW HER.”
the next morning in class i see the topic of her project when i looked at her screen – identity theft/fraud.
freaky. now if only the dream of the eagles in the superbowl would come true, then i might check myself into a psychic dream program if the government wants to pay me a nice salary with full benefits just to monitor my dreams.
top that off with the fact that after dreaming of losing a single tooth cracked in half, i picked a booger that resembled a tooth just before writing this. hard, crunchy, and pretty large with one hair.
Golden Nugget
Posted on December 31, 2008
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I used to have recurring dreams of a ride at Wildwood New Jersey. The Golden Nugget. I would see it from the other piers and the red light that glowed inside a window/door on the side of the mountain would strike a bit of mysterious fear in me. It’s a shame the Golden Nugget is being dismantled this year. The people running the pier are assholes. There’s no reason to knock down an iconic part of Wildwood history just to build another ride. You’ll get the same amount of visitors no matter what, so don’t be dicks and ruin something the older crowd cherishes.
After the Dracula Castle burned down, you should be more interested in preserving a little bit of Wildwood history and keep the Golden Nugget.
In real life, no, I wasn’t frightened of it. I was always scared of the Dante’s Inferno because it had two three-headed monsters and a greenish devil in the center blowing smoke from his nose and swinging a weapon. I remember my Uncle John carried me by it once; Dad the rest. I would scream and look the other way. That made me cry when I was young, until I rode the ride and saw that there was a naked mannequin at the end, and we would always try to touch its boobs…or at least laugh at it on the way out.
Dolphin Massacre
Posted on December 31, 2008
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After watching Law and Order episode where an endangered Gibbon was being transported via plane inside a fake basketball, I dreamt of a dolphin massacre on the outskirt of a house on the beach with a forest near by.
It was winter and I rolled my sled over the hill that my parents said to not ever sled down because it was nearly impossible to get back up. But there was already a sled trail…and no footprints.
I follow the path face first on my circular sled and it takes me right into the underbelly of a wave, and as I look around to my right, in my last seconds of dryness, I see the heads and bodies of dolphins being rolled into the undercurrent.
I flip the sled around and surf back towards the coast about 20 feet into the murky mud and a patch of area with no snow.
There’s a path that follows the coast line, but parents were right – it looks damn near impossible to simply walk up a frozen hill.
I find a bag next to some rocks that are between sand and grass – this place is weird, there’s a distinct line between dirt and sand – and inside the bag is a dolphin head.
It looks sad.
A woman jogs by and I get her attention. I instruct her to notify police and have them triangulate her position to come retrieve us and the head. She wants to know what’s in the bag, and as I open the bag to show her, a guy tackles me and the head bounces around in the dirty sand.
I stand up “what the fuck are you doing?”
“The head. You give it up, and you go. Or I put this dog on you.”
“Fuck you.”
“Get him boy!”
“That’s right…come here buddy, good doggy, doggy want a little rub on the neck? Oh, does doggy want a little dolphin head?”
Luck strikes for me and the dog is rolling on its back begging for a belly rub. The guy approaches me and I throw a rock in his face, grab the dog and girl and leave.
We take the long way to my parents house on the hill. It’s a race between us and the guy delivering the warrant for the swap team to kick in the door and dismantle the house because my parents have been blamed for the dolphin bodies appearing on the land behind their house.
30 seconds left and we arrive as the guys at the front door cock back the door knocker.
“You looking for this?”
With guns drawn I drop the head and show them the empty bag it came in.
The girl hold’s her phone in the air and more cops arrive from her call.
The guy who tackled me is knocked out on the beach, partially drowned as waves crash over his body.
And the dog? Well…puppy belongs to me now. A vet scanned her chip and it was registered to a guy who lives many miles away, but sails his yacht in these waters and fishes dolphins for sport. He gets caught because he loved his dog enough to register the puppy in case it ever got lost. Go figure. Love one animal, kill another.
Later in the dream I take my two brothers to the spot I found the dead dolphins. We look around for more, in attempt to clean up if we can. We find a small pond with many large rocks surrounding it, and what looked like clean fresh water.
We’re peering into the water, leaning over the rocks, and there’s lots of snails in there! I’m talking about snails the size of my palm. There’s also snails who’ve bred with hermit crabs, so they’re snaily with legs. Very interesting breed of a slimy creature with exoskeleton limbs.
As we’re reaching into the pond to retrieve a snail to take home to my aquarium, the rocks shift and we all sink about six feet into a hole. The water is pushed down too, which is extremely strange. It’s as if the entire ground beneath it has sunken. I’m stuck in somewhat muddy water, John is pinned against rocks, and Mike has propped his feet against both sides of the edges. He pulls himself up, then me, and the rocks sink more and more, and John gets pinned in really good. The snail crabs are snipping away at his feet and he’s part laughing, part in pain, because the snail part feels funny, but the crab part doesn’t. And he’s also stuck between rocks the size of his chest. Mike grabs John’s arms and I slowly shift the rocks away until we can pull him out.
No more looking at personal sized ponds and trying to take home the nature.
After this we go to a bar where hot blonds in skimpy black booty shorts serve drinks, a girl named N. Baum (from college) is there with her boyfriend, or just some guy. I don’t know because I don’t ask…or care. We say hi, do the friend hug thing at her table and walk to the bar for a drink. I notice she has pills on the counter. I don’t know what they’re for, but she doesn’t drink. I head to a stand where one of the hot bar girls is handing out drinks and ask for a Coors Light. She hands me a Corona. I give it back. I want my Coors Light.
predator face
Posted on December 26, 2008
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My two brothers and I were at a bar using too much bad language, particularly fuck and cunt, and a AA single mother’s club was having drinks with their babies at their sides. One of the drunk whores flipped a shit to a bouncer, whom I was friends with, and a new security guard asked us to leave.
John dropped most of the F-Bombs on purpose to rouse the AA Moms who gasped each time he said swore, as if saying Fucking Cunt and Cunt Fucker was worse than taking your 11 month old fetal alcohol step child to the bar at 11pm on a Wednesday night.
On the way out of the bar, I knodded at the bouncers I knew, signalling that I would get my drunk brothers home and sorry we got out of hand. But thefunny situation became frightening as the new guard was in the driveway by a shadowboxing by a chain link fence, squaring up my brother like he wanted to go a few rounds. Which is fine because there’s three of us. But instead we kinda laughed it off and went to walk away, but that wasn’t good enough for the guard because he let out a scream that could only come from what I described as a fat girls queef.
We turn around to see what the guard is doing and he’s pulled off his face to reveal his true self – the cunt face. I’m talkin about a real predator looking fucked up pussy face.
If you tried punching this, it would smother you in lube and bite you at the same time.
And we ran…we ran so far away…
infected
Posted on December 23, 2008
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chemical warfare causes people to mutate and kill. sorta like zombies, but extremely aggressive and not borderline retarded strolling around moaning like a fat guy who can’t tie his own shoes.
of course, i’m surrounded by people who’ve been bitten or inhaled the gas that caused the mutation. stuck in a house with several others and we’re hoarding supplies in the cabinets and sealing the house so that people can’t get in.
knock knock knock let me in, us military, i need help.
he sounds ok. looks fine. someone lets him in.
ten minutes later he passes out on the floor and a scratch on his neck is revealed. it looks like a very small scrape, almost not breaking flesh. but that was all he needed.
his mutation takes about 30 seconds and we’re scrambling to find weapons.
i’ve seen large people before, but this soldier makes conan the barbarian look like a shrimp.
i find some old kitchen knives and a rolling pin. i feel like fucking betty crocker on a rampage.
the soldier looks around hungry like a wolf and takes a 14 inch kitchen knife into his calf, then i hit him in the head with the rolling pin and he turns around angrily. thankfully, he’s so big that i shoot under his legs sliding on my back and stab his other leg with another knive and kick him in the opposite knee to take him down sideways.
he’s not happy. one of the older guys in the house pushes me aside and says “allow me” and fires his shotgun at the beasts face, splattering his leftover brain matter all over the piano behind him.
these creatures are scary looking, but seemingly easy to take out. you just can’t be a pussy.
after a while the outside looks almost safe and i venture out to seek supplies.
i come across an old store that seems left alone. i think the old guys in there put a spell on it or just have some sort of device that keeps creatures away.
i buy some new brand of beef jerky i’ve never seen before and two girls walk in.
it’s almost like things are normal, but there could be a mutant lurking at any corner, so you have to stay sharp.
the two girls and i decide to hang out a bit later after they go visit a college and see a show. i’m hoping their only intention is threesome.
the fact that a show is going on shows me things have really gone back to normal. the amount of creatures left is minimal, but they’re out there hiding, waiting to strike on the unexpecting.
and just when myself and the two hopefully horny ladies meetup, guess who ruins it.
you’re right. chuck norris. just kidding. it’s another mutant. not nearly as gigantic and scary looking as the bitten soldier, but this one is rapid and resilient. it’s like he went to mutant fight club practice, because nothing seems to phase him.
then the old man from the beef jerky shop turns the corner and yells in a voice i can only compare to indian war cries and the mutant falls to his knees.
you’ve got to be kidding me.
mutant appears to be begging for his life, but the old man shows no mercy and blasts his brains out onto the plush green carpet of grass.
the beef jerky i purchased was in an air tight package, round in nature, like the round version of small packages of wild bills.
indian ocean terrorist
Posted on December 15, 2008
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I was stationed in Baghdad as a spy disguised as an international college student who traveled abroad from Kutztown – the tiny pisshole state college formerly awesome but now a waste of time and money.
I managed to locate the head quarters of the military and find my way inside. It wasn’t hard because it was the only building over there more than three stories and seemingly impossible to destroy by the stones the natives throw.
My job was to figure out where they are planning to strike in the USA and disrupt the deploy of missles…even redirect them to another country if needed, just keep them off USA soil. USA has been under a barrage of attacks and our only suspect is the secret militia in Baghdad.
Bombs began falling from the sky and as chaos ensued I found myself inside hidden atop a shelf that resembled something you’d see in Home Depot…still dressed in my Kutztown hoodie of course to remain in character and act like I ran for covered if discovered. I was inside the base no one else could get into.
I discovered something somewhat discouraging. The bombs that fell weren’t American. They were something else. Something I couldn’t distinguish. This bothered me because USA is supposed to bomb Baghdad in retaliation, but if these bombs aren’t from us, who are they from?
As I’m hiding atop the shelf and planning my next move, the blond woman in charge is balking about those “Damn Americans” and “what did we do to deserve this” while and she’s trying to dislodge something that’s stuck on her missle defense mechanism. Neither her nor the grunt employee of hers can get this to work.
I realize that a third unknown party is bombing both USA and Baghdad and causing both sides to assume it is them, thus creating a war between two parties who are essentially fighting for no reason.
I call to the blond “I can help you” and leap down from the 12 foot shelf. Guns pointed in my face I walk towards her in my college sweatshirt and help her adjust the missle defense mechanism just in time to ward off several incoming bombs.
“Thank you, and who are you” she states, still with several AK-47′s in my face. I explain to her that I’m an American spy stationed here to learn about future attacks, what’s being used, and why it’s happening so that the USA military can prepare for defense.
I tell her that the bombs that are dropping are not official USA military issued bombs and are not coming from the USA, but rather a third party. Our bombs have something specificly recognizeable that all trained soldiers would notice in a heartbeat. And I explain to her that I would not betray my country by openly giving myself in to help you protect yourself by fixing your jammed missle defense mechanism.
They realize I put my life on the line to help save their people from the bombs they think are coming from my country and lower their guns.
We talk about possible third party enemies and I tell her what parts of her town to clear out and prepare for because the bombs are on the way and she has about 20 minutes.
We’re outside in the city streets and another bomb lands, but this one isn’t one that I was able to warn her about. It’s from the real enemy. It sends a traincar off its tracks, down a street, and into a building, piercing it effortlessly like a needle in soft skin. Blood and guts are everywhere since the train was filled with people trying to leave town. These people are ruthless.
More attacks land exactly where I tell her they would and we minimize death by getting people to relocate as far away as possible. Except for one baby in a baby car seat lays sitting where the bombs exploded, the only bright spot in the dark dust as she somehow lies unharmed while a person scoops her up on the run.
I’m able to get through to the USA to have them halt all attacks because we’ve both been setup to appear as an aggressor, when in fact it’s a third party secretly bombing both of us and causing us to fight.
Both sides cease fire and as I’m standing with the so-called enemy, the USA is bombed again and I am in Baghdad to prove that no attack was launched from there. USA is able to track the attack to a cruise ship afloat in the Indian Ocean.
I make my way towards it, but not fast enough as more third party bombs drop. I feel like Jack Bauer since I can basically appear anywhere at any time and no time seems to go by.
I take a personal stealth submarine to the boat and notice that they’re also holding precious whales hostage by anchoring them down. I make eye contact with the massive whales, big enough to crush me, and radio back to Baghdad that they need to send in a crew to burn the chains off the whales to set them free as I’m boarding the cruise ship and figuring out that mess.
I scale the side of the boat and it’s nothing but missle launching machines on top and all the previous guests are trapped in the basement of the boat.
I cut power to the ship and travel by moonlight to find the people in charge, shooting silently those who try to stop me. As I approach the main office, the front end of the boat goes straight into the sky as one of the whales must’ve been freed and bumped it on its way out, showing its distaste for the assaultants. This flips people left and right.
I end up on my back near the basement steps and take a peek down to which I find nothing but parents and babies and a soldier for the enemy whom I shoot in the face and give the families a thumbs up.
I get to the office and they lock me in. Three guys with guns to my face and one gypsy douche looking asshole sitting in a rusty chair smoking a cigar. He pushes a button “bye bye parents” and the parents all mutate and go crazy because they had a self destruct device filled with poison that nearly zombifies them and they begin eating their own babies and clawing at the metal doors to get out.
I high kick the front guy while grabbing the guys gun on the right and pointing it to my left, making him shoot his friend, then I pistol whip him with his own gun, take it from him, and shoot the guy in front of me as he stumbles up from the ground, then point the gun back to my right and shoot him in the head.
Now its just me and the Indian Ocean terrorist. He has no weapon. Just his cigar.
I could shoot him so many times right now if I wanted to, but I don’t.
I shackle him and call for pickup.
Mariners from Baghdad retrieve us and we sink the ship before returning. I hand the IOT to them and the military tortures him till he bleeds out; more appropriate than a quick death by bullet.
As I’m leaving, the blond approaches me and thanks me for betraying my country to save theirs…and ours too.
We make eye contact as she drifts off into her town to greet her people. Maybe one day I’ll be back.
Brothers from another Mother…
Posted on December 12, 2008
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like Mel Gibson and Danny Glover.
Danny is my grandfather and he’s ready to pass. I can’t ever remember his name unless I recite an old Outkast lyric. But it’s sad that he’s at this stage in his life because according to my dream he was a good person and had a few more Lethal Weapon’s he could do. I woke up sad and trying to remember the name Danny Glover. I don’t know many African Danny’s. I woke up sad the first time the clock rang.
Another part of this dream is my top left arm having a strange bruising pattern after a lacrosse game, which is odd because I have protective gear and the bruising there is often minimal. But this bruise looks like a dotted and dashed crop circle, possibly similar to the shape of someone’s lacrosse stick netting, but in the dream we are weirded out.
Each time my cell phone rings, it’s actually my alarm clock.
White man basketball
Posted on December 9, 2008
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It’s horrible watching Neil and I lose at roughhouse to two girls, but they’re black.
And play on a college team.
He hasn’t even scored yet and I suck, so this is not going in either of our favors.
I decide to pull a Woody Harrleson hustle and accidentally pass him the ball…you know, help him get some points against these ladies but even that fails as my pass soars past the net and into someone’s driveway.
This backyard blowout is all due to watching some young international star decline a chance to play on a good NBA team with a great core of unselfish players so that he could be the star on a losing team.
Many men makes one
Posted on December 7, 2008
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Lights go out during our service, and inhouse service for my dieing grandfather.
But it’s not just one light. It’s all lights. Full power outage. The dogs bark…the big vicious scary guard dogs that they are, but I sense a difference in their tone. They’re not barking at a squirrel or even an intruder. This is something terrifying.
I let a dog in and we go upstairs to where the breaker is and the fearless mutt runs wild, sniffing everything. He can tell something was here.
The light of lantern doesn’t reach too far and the curious pup runs ahead of me into the dark room at the end of the hallway – the room we use for storage. It’s like an attic on the top floor because our building doesn’t have an attic.
In and out in 12 seconds and pissing himself next to me shivering.
Dogs don’t get this scared for nothing. They don’t shiver unless they’ve seen the devil himself, let alone drip smelly dog piss all over my brand new American Eagle blue jeans.
I imagine a shadow cast upon a moonlit wall, wavering in the howling wind caused the pooch to crawl up against my left leg, as I heard no windows break or any intruders set off an alarm, and there’s not much to climb in this 3 story house to the top floor.
But what I see when I approach the room could easily strike fear in the most fearless and drop dead the faint of heart.
Its head almost graced the nine foot ceiling, wingspan of Manute Bol, and the composition of 100 miniature figures.
Frankenstein in nature, it is 100 living miniature people holding on together to form the Voltron of the supernatural.
And it did not enjoy being bothered.
We run for our lives and to alert the others, and somehow battle this being in the dark while hiding a dieing Grandfather who knows the only way to kill it – you have to hit him in the heart to break him down to pieces, then fight all the miniature people.
The heart is the key to everyone’s last breath – you break that, and they’re left in pieces.
You wouldn’t have thought this would happen.
Posted on December 3, 2008
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There’s a local bad guy terrorizing our college campus. Constantly capturing people and torturing them. Killing them. Doing things you would only be scared about.
They got to me.
They want me to lure someone in for them.
Little do they know, I’m friends with all the police and such in town.
We set up a sting, but it fails because it appears the people know what’s going on and have counter-planned our plan to capture the capturists.
Even my mom was involved in the sense she acted like a street worker when we tried to lure the guy into a manhole filled with undercover cops that I was trying to sell to him as people he could torture.
In the end, I find out that my best friend Jackie is dating the bad guy, but she finds out he’s the killer after he’s done his crime and we all cross paths, but she can’t turn on him now, even though he’s done bad things because she loves him.
Now people have to chose which path to travel. My path is that of taking out the criminals, her path is trying to remain friends while dating the person who harms others, and the cops are fat and clueless and of no help. So basically it comes down to me and the monster guy fighting with various weapons and trying to trick each other into injury during the dream.
End result is we’re all separated and nothing is accomplished.