How my mind works, part 19 squillion

[oakenguy]

A couple of years ago I was watching an improv jam, and at one point everyone on stage had to get in a line and come up with new mottos for Connecticut.

It was more than two years ago. I remember nothing else about the show. I was never personally involved in the show. And YET, the other night as I was getting on the subway this suddenly hits me: "Connecticut--We're North Dakota's Mini-Me".


Also, olivetree, remember how you've been wondering where my mind goes when I can sleep? Now I can tell you! I've just started reading 'The Gargoyle', which kicks off with the narrator driving while drunk and getting in a really horrible car crash and fire, something described in minute detail. So, influenced by this, I had a dream in which I was drunk driving and got in a car crash.

And just HOW drunk was I in this dream? I was apparently so drunk that I drove to FRANCE.

So that's where my mind goes. It goes to Versailles. Where it immediately walks past all the statuary and fountains and goes into a restroom so it can check itself in the mirror.

Comments

[kali921.livejournal.com]

May I join you in the dreaming? We could form an essential team up - I dreamt about going to a dystopian!future! Hong Kong where I was on a barge with a bunch of refugees. I kept looking for orchids (as I am under the impression that many people grow them in HK) - and couldn't find any.

There was also the dream where I was flying over the freeways in Oakland and ran into a Quetzalcoatl - I promptly engaged it in aerial combat. I really needed backup, and I can't think of a better person to provide it than you!

[lisefrac.livejournal.com]

Haha, I love the way you write. Even when sober!

[olivetree.livejournal.com]

I need to hug you many times.

[blacktigr.livejournal.com]

Uhm...sorry? I hadn't realized that reading that would trigger such bad dreams. Maybe I should have warned you. Something like Warning: Graphic Everything in This Book.

[oakenguy.livejournal.com]

Aww, it's fine. It wasn't even a bad-looking scar, more like a port wine stain on half my forehead (with an odd geometric pattern in the middle where I'd been leaning against bolts in the car door). If I got through all those Stephen King books in elementary school, I can get through this.

[plumtreeblossom.livejournal.com]

I wish you could make an RRS feed of your dreams, recorded directly from your brain. :-)