A Dream

by B.J. on 8/18/2002 08:21:00 AM 0 comments Print this post

In my last level of subconsciousness, I stood poised ready to attack a bunch of Iraqi rebels surrounding a broken down school bus with water balloons and knives (haha, no kidding). Our commander was barking out instructions that I couldn't understand, and as I began the descent from the slider on the rope, I forced myself back because I was too scared ! Suddenly, I end up in front of this Baghdad-style marketplace with UHHH---MURR-I-KUNN people. I felt like I was in that Tofu Festival all over again. All of a sudden, we (I assume the crew) end up at this booth with a celebrity, maybe Big Boi from Outkast. A security guard steps in my way to see Big Boi and says it's past hours. He then gets some blonde security guard girl with her top twisted in a knot revealing her belly and threatens me with a plastic-handled serrated edged knife. I say, "Uh uh, it's not Cutco ! You can't do damage on me !" The security guard girl and I have a shouting match as I am slowly walk away and tail off into some Beverly Hills mansion, where army men with sunglasses tell me the mission failed. Aye !. . .Caramba !

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Another Dream

by B.J. on 8/11/2002 08:38:00 AM 0 comments Print this post

Just a few minutes ago in my REM stage, my mom died. I grieved and felt so disoriented that I was going to just close my eyes and let my car just fall off the hill I always "bust a U" on. All of a sudden, I was driving on this flooded freeway with the Doc trying to get home. It was like Noah's Ark only there were about 1000 other high-speed arks trying to get to their places as well. I ended up at Ray's house, which magically morphed into what looked the bottom floor of the old condo I lived in. I found out that I was dead, as well as the Doc, K-Dawg, BLEP, Shar, Ray, the whole crew ! Ray sang this song about how BLEP died, which was thru cancer, which gave her headaches everyday and spread and spread. After that Jungle Book-like performace from Ray, he and K-Dawg told me that I could play with the minds of people who were alive by turning the lightbulbs on. . .counterclockwise. . .like Ray's house, haha. So I did that for 2 or 3 tries, and some big black dude who knew Keith, with magic glasses hugged the hell out of me. Then, I heard a herd of people coming up the escalator in Universal Studios, where I had magically travelled to, meeting up with other dead people and taking pictures. Out of the herd, I actually embraced my AP teacher and counselor. Then I finally saw my mom walking casually in her customary red long-sleeved collared shirt and black pants, gave her a big hug, and woke up to a a drunk-faced George W Bush. Wow, was it the 3 sips of the Smirny or the mystical effect of seeing the city and being a bit closer to the stars ?

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Another Dream

by B.J. on 8/02/2002 09:07:00 AM 0 comments Print this post

In my REM stage of sleep today, I asked my old entrenador de correr about my status on the team. Then I remember the assistant coach and a kid that looked like his son running up to the van where my old coach and I were at. This thin son running up reminded me of those freezing days as a competitive runner, wow. No matter how fast I ran, I would only end up in the middle of everyone else, this lost pack of red, blonde spikey- haired white boys in black jumpsuits, and I felt the blood freeze in my vains every time (maybe also because the rains started in October, but that's not the point !). I would come hulking after each race, always worrying about how I couldn't F-I-N-I-S-H and how I would be able to even withstand the next race. This is where "Stan", Eminem's song, blitzed thru my mind before every damn race, which lead me to finish in the bottom middle as opposed to the middle middle in the last three races of the year. Gid Gad.

On a lighter note, today on the Today Show, this tackified, fake-mustached hack (not HHAC !) ripped Goldmember by calling it the worst movie of the year. Well, this guy Gene Shalit also hated AP 2, so I wasn't expecting a good review anyway (Realistically, is there any way to make a teen movie that will get rave reviews from tight-assed, white, middle-aged scumbags like him ?). Gene ripped Mike so badly I cringed and clenched my stomach. He took shots, re-loaded, and took shots, till Mike was nothing but a single grain of ash. However, I was spiked most when he plain-out, straight-up called Beyonce a bimbo. Kinda funny though, how I will heed his advice, and not pay to see it. Hello Keith's computer !

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