A New Level of Sadness
All of us dream while we sleep, possibly having up to 8+ dreams per night. For the lucky few, a handful will wake up actually having remembered one, perhaps two of those dreams. And it's believed by some that if you train your mind enough for it, you can control your dreams. I truly hope that is the case.
It's the only chance I'll ever have to save face after dreaming about doing battle against Alfred Molina playing Dr. Octopus from the upcoming Spiderman 2 movie...and getting my ass royally kicked by him. I know I'm eager to see the movie. I am not embarrassed to say that it has managed to infiltrate my dreams. But why does this dream involve my butt, and Doc Ock kicking it so thoroughly? At least when I get thrown through walls in a dream, they don't hurt; and yet, why do I have to suffer the indignity?
It's my dream, dammit! Why do I have to be a super-villain's bitch instead of the superhero?!
I suppose it could have been worse. After mentioning this disconcerting dream to my co-workers, one of them told me about her dream from the night before. And I must say, Freddy Kruger aside, this has to be one of the more terrifying things I've ever heard of.
She dreamt that she woke up inside her bedroom, and standing at the foot of her bed was Peter Jackson, director of the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. This unto itself is not necessarily a bad thing. Seeing Peter Jackson in nothing but a pair of rainbow underpants, however, ranks very high on my list of memories to subsequently repress for all eternity.
I'm not entirely sure what Crystal did to deserve her mind conjuring up that macabre little mind movie, but it certainly made me feel less chagrined about the Doc Ock throttling I'd received in mine. So if one day, you happen to be wandering about Fairview Park Mall in Kitchener, stop by the Bentley store and see if a tall girl named Crystal works there. All you need do is walk up to her, smile, and state: "Peter Jackson in rainbow underpants."
I doubt that'll make her day. But it will certainly make mine. I enjoy making everyone's day that much more surreal...or traumatic...or both, depending on how deep the psychosis of the day is.
Today's Lesson: spam mail is not a victimless crime, especially now for the perpetrators. And it's become an expensive one to boot.
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posted by Phillip at 4:50 PM
