Your (Non-ILX) Dreams

I was with some people close to me, in conversation. I kept trying to remember the name of the previous president, the one before Biden. In the dream, it was a talking dog, a shiba-inu, who was also a kind of insult comedian. My dreaming mind had mixed up Donald Trump and Triumph the Insult Comic Dog, probably because of the words Trump and Triumph being so close and both figures being semi-prominent NBC personalities in the 2000s. The reason it was a shiba-inu is probably because I know someone whose elderly shiba-inu recently passed.

In any case, I couldn't remember the name of this president and was getting frustrated. Terrence? Trippy? Everyone around me just wanted to talk about how awful he was, how he brought our country to the precipice of destruction, but I just wanted to know the name. Tracks? Then I moved onto a different question -- how could a dog be president anyway? Are dogs citizens? No one was listening to me. At this point it was like I was on mute, everyone carried on their conversation and wouldn't answer my basic questions about this recently deposed canine demagogue.

Tesla were moving into the stairlift market. The start of the presentation revealed how corrupt or incompetent Stannah were as a business, getting percentages mixed up with cash amounts and bankrupting their customers. Then Elon appeared floating up and down on a chair with no visible means of support.

I went to an Ikea store for a business meeting with Mads Mikkelsen. He was in the kitchen section and a bunch of kitchen tables had been placed in a row to make a kind of boardroom table. He was sitting down and looked miserable.

I had rigged up a back-seat bookies on the top of a double-decker bus, even with a cash register and was very anxious that all the unruly people on the bus were stealing money from the till. And some point I was paying someone out but was repeatedly needing to recount the money and coming up with a different amount every time, and this torturous part of the dream seemed to go on forever.

I was collaborating on a single with Justin Bieber.

Paulie Shore was working as a water-tester at a local reservoir and I kept taunting him by yelling "Snoochie Boochies".

I was listening to Murmur yesterday and then last night I dreamed that one of the songs on the album was actually called 'Shitting, Still' and that the band's name was RBM. Yes, I am eight years old even in my dreams.

A new set of trading cards is taking the world by storm. They're called Malkobread, and each card features John Malkovich elaborately costumed as a different kind of bread product.

I don't recall the context, but I know that the phrase 'roll of a lifetime' instantiated in my brain at some point during the dream.

No, there is no excuse for any of this.

It is discovered somehow (the origins are murky) that there are regions in the world where there is a surfeit of time; it collects in big rippling pools and when you're there time stands still, or it's like you're outside of the usual mechanics of time. People bring their loved ones, particularly the terminally sick; others, me included, just wheel about in the surf. I experience the whole dream as if I'm travelling across shallow water on a boogie board.

I literally woke myself up laughing.

I was sharing a room in a dilapidated house somewhere in California. The place was really run down and not at all secure, but I slept like a baby. I was grateful to my brother because he's the only person who is not bothered by my snoring.

*sharing a room with my brother