Me & Mia Malkova/My Uncle's Antique Typewriter/Son of Tales from the Gimpy Hospital

I was sealed in an impenetrable safe room with Mia Malkova.

Usually I enjoy dreams where I get some, but I didn't enjoy this one. The safe room was dank, I got the sense she was only jumping my bones because my bones were the only bones available, and the dream had this undefined but pervading Lovecraftian atmosphere to it.

* * *

An uncle and aunt of mine moved into the bottom storey of the duplex I lived in briefly back in late 1998/early 1999. When me, my parents and sister visited the place, we found they had renovated it so thoroughly it only barely resembled the home we had known.

My uncle had in his possession an antique typewriter from 1908.

He allowed me to try it out. My mother was miffed at this 'cause my uncle had inherited the typewriter from their father, who had inherited it from his father, and she considered it a family heirloom too priceless to use for such everyday, mundane purposes.

* * *

In my original bedroom, an old CRT TV had been set up in the otherwise empty room. I believe I'd set it up so I could play Super Nintendo games on it, but there was no SNES console present and only snow playing on the screen. It was summer and quite hot in the room, so I'd opened the window to cool it down. I'd opened it only a crack, though, because there was no screen over the window and I was fearful of yellowjackets entering through the spaces in the gauzy white curtain.

For some reason or other, my parents wanted me to visit the hospital, so I took the bus there. At the hospital, I found a black, brown, and white tabby kitten wandering the corridors.

Taking the kitten with me, I went outside to the bus stop. Climbing aboard the bus, I asked if this was the bus for my hometown; D

who was present on the bus, told me this was indeed the right bus. I took a seat back away from her and the bus rolled off.

During the trip, I took up a conversation with the young woman seated beside me. She was a pleasant lady, so I offered the kitten to her as a gift; she accepted the kitten, but in a strange roundabout way. 

As the bus entered my hometown, I looked out my window; the landscape was recognizable, but the landmarks eerily different somehow, as if certain buildings had been demolished/relocated/replaced during my brief absence.

Strangest Things/I Went to NYC & All I Got Was This Lousy Anarchist

I had a dream which served basically as an alternate second season to Stranger Things. Eleven had returned, but the events of the first season finale had left her so traumatized that she mentally regressed to the state of a toddler; she no longer knew how to use her powers and she was forced to wear a diaper all the time.

I became her guardian and had to protect her from a nigh-unkillable demoniac who was hunting her; the fucker was so strong that all the damage I dealt to his body only slowed him down. And to make my job all the harder, he had the power of mesmerism; he could enslave others to his will with a glance.

There were other details to the dream, but they’ve slipped my mind.

* * *

I dreamed I watched an early-to-mid '70s romantic comedy starring Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin, and Roy Scheider.

Fonda played an unmarried-and-unattached woman with a modestly successful modelling career who had a crush on a millionaire with a pornstache.

Tomlin played her best friend. Together, they were planning on taking a skiing vacation to Colorado, but they got on the wrong bus and wound up in New York City instead. There, Fonda met and fell for Scheider’s character, who was a cantankerous, misanthropic anarchist who always talked to himself in the mirror and wore his hair slicked back and the top buttons of his black T-shirt unbuttoned.

From the Dream Archives: Let's Carve Ourselves a Witch, Son/Love Bus Stop

(ORIGINAL ENTRY DATE: 30 JUNE 2016)

I took a nap today, ended up having a most memorable dream.

It began with me hanging out with my son. He was three or four and looked like Robert Sean Leonard.

I was feeling joyous, happy 'cause I knew this meant I was married. Though she didn't make an appearance in the dream,

I knew right away who my wife was.

Then the dream turned strange. A witch showed up, threatening to harm my son. At that point I transformed into Ash from the Evil Dead series.

I picked up an old musket with a bayonet attached at the end, stabbed the witch through the eye and out the back of her head, pinning her to the wall behind her. That's when a second Ash showed up

and began dismembering her with a chainsaw.

The dream then realigned.

I found myself a teenager back in high school. As I got off the bus at school, there was this incredibly hot girl standing there on the sidewalk. She was brunette or dark blonde, moderately muscular, clad in a tank top and jean cutoffs.

"YOWZA!"

I sat down with her on the pavement and began feeling her up. Just when we were preparing to undress and have sex right then and there in public, my psychological V-chip engaged and the dream drew to a climax.

(But I didn't. 😣)

The Abandoned Insurrection/Ride with a Pederast/Throwdown with the Trio from Tartarus

I led (or at least participated in) an insurrection which took place on the grounds of the Okanagan College Kelowna campus in the dead of winter.

(I suppose them's the breaks when your math instructor fails to communicate with you in regards to continuing your tutelage under him in spite of repeated efforts on your part to get in touch.)

Then I found myself away from the college and the insurrection, waiting for a bus in the cold, wet snow. I was then run down by a car or some such vehicle. I received no major injuries, though I was knocked senseless and ended up missing the bus.

A man at the wheel of a red car pulled up and offered me a ride. Since he looked like the bastard love child of Ernie Coombs and Hans Moleman,

I took him as harmless and took him up on his offer. Once we got to my neighbourhood, he propositioned me for sex.

That's when I pretended to whip out a knife and held its invisible blade up to his throat.

I threatened to cut him good if he didn't let me out and drive off toot sweet. Presumably none too eagre to hurry through his twilight years, he did just that. Oh, and it wasn't winter anymore.

As I proceeded to walk the rest of the way home, the red car reappeared. Ernie Moleman was no longer behind the wheel. There were three unfamiliar men in there now, one of them wearing a white hood over his head; he had a bloody hole smack-dab in the centre of his forehead. As there was little cover to be had, I cut across someone's backyard and ducked down behind a short length of fence, hiding where I could see them but they couldn't see me. But they weren't human, after all, and they didn't need sight to locate me. Emerging from their car, they strode right up to where I had secreted myself. That's when I took up a length of hard, heavy wood and began beating at them with it.

Of course, being supernatural, they had greater endurance to pain and injury than any mere man. I'd hit them, and at best that would slow them down. Taking up their own lengths of wood, they in turn began hitting me; I wasn't as tough as they. Taking up a trowel lying within reach, I attacked one of the men — a portly, balding fellow — and stabbed him right in the brainpan. Twisting the trowel around, I managed to pop his eyes out, leaving them danging from their sockets. That didn't kill or incapacitate him; he was as brimming with piss and vinegar as he had been when this scuffle commenced.

Me, My Diet Cherry Coke, & Alanis Morissette & the Cute Frizzy-Haired Blonde on a Bus

I was travelling on the bus, drinking a Diet Cherry Coke, and who should happen to be on the bus but Alanis Morissette herself.

She, too, was drinking a Diet Cherry Coke and having a conversation with another musical icon (I don’t recall who, but I wanna say Debbie Gibson.).

Anyway, after finishing my Coke, I decided I wanted some more, so I conspired to steal Alanis’. I quickly discarded that plan, though. Instead, I decided I wanted to impress her with my musical talent and began singing this song aloud. One or two other people on the bus joined in, but Alanis still failed to take notice.

🎵If Alanis could only see the way I love her, maybe she would understand ...🎵

The dream then took a change for the weird. For some reason some government agent appeared on the bus and charged the bus driver 25.11¢ or something on my behalf (That’s not a typo of $25.11, BTW; that’s literally 25.11 cents.). The bus driver said neither he nor the bus company would be paying for it, that I would have to pay it, 'cause they didn’t have the funding to cover it. The agent said they did, the bus driver stressed that they didn’t, and they continuing arguing from there.

"You will pay the 25.11¢."

"Hey, this ain't a Star Wars dream, man!"

Then a cute woman in her twenties with frizzy blond hair and a red backpack appeared on the bus. 

(She looked somewhat like this, just with more freckles and less sultriness.)

Then suddenly she and I were transported off the bus into the middle of these overgrown woods. There was this large dark blue sheet stretched out in the middle of the woods, with the shadowy side leading into some realm of supernatural darkness.

(Not image-accurate, but it captures precisely the same sense of dread.)

The dream trailed off there.