I was sitting at a table by myself in a Chinese restaurant. The walls of the restaurant were shimmering constantly in different shades of purple, from lavender to deep dark violet and back.
I had placed my order and I was waiting and waiting. It seemed like it was taking forever for my food to arrive.
In the meantime, I was bleeding everywhere because I'd taken out a Swiss army knife and cut my body in 30 different places.
I sit at a table at a classy restaurant eating a plate of spaghetti. Instead of meatballs, the spaghetti has a bunch of microchips all mixed in with it.
Across from me sits a red-haired woman. She's actully quite attractive. She's singing to herself, a Van Morrison song.
One by one, she pulls long pins out of her hair, and sticks them in her eyeballs.
I don't know why Angelina Jolie has appeared in a couple of my dreams recently. I'm not one of those guys who finds her mind-bogglingly attractive. Of course, I wouldn't kick her out of my bed...
Anyway. I dreamed I was on the set of Angelina's new cooking show. I was hanging out at the back, lurking in the dark behind the studio audience.
Angelina was standing in this brightly-lit studio kitchen, wearing a little apron and showing how to make an omelette or something.
I was thinking that she seemed too serious about it, that the show might be more entertaining if she were to lighten up a bit, put some humour into it.
One of the crew came up and stood beside me. He was wearing thick glasses and some kind of headset. I had the bad feeling that he was going to try to talk to me.
He leaned over and said with a leer, "Could you imagine putting it to that every night?"
I said, "Dude. She's my sister."
I dreamed they were taking good care of me at the school cafeteria.
The woman in charge said, "We're not really supposed to open for another twenty minutes, but we really appreciate what you've been doing. She'll find something for you to eat."
So I went into the dining area and there was this Goth girl getting the food ready. All they were serving was a casserole that was made of alternating layers of Kraft Dinner and bacon.
There were several pans filled with this steaming orange concoction. The Goth girl dolloped a whole bunch of it onto a plate for me.
I was thinking: "I wonder why they think what I'm doing is all that important. There's really nothing to it."
Then I heard a whiny, nasal voice saying "I'm glad somebody can get some service around here."
I turned around and it was this guy who looked just like the guy with the hairdo from the band Interpol. He looked just like him and was even dressed just like him. Except he was only about four foot six.
I dreamed I was hungry but too lazy to cook. So I swallowed a bunch of microwave popcorn and went for a chest x-ray.
The technician pointed the x-ray machine straight at me and powered it up. It made a hum that grew progressively louder.
A muted popping sound began in my belly. It sounded like a whole bunch of kung-fu movies playing at once.
Suddenly my stomach exploded. Popcorn flew everywhere. All the equipment burst into flames as the technician fled the room. I wanted to run, but I was wearing a lead apron.
Then the technician returned to the room carrying a fire extinguisher and a giant salt shaker.
The prison has just opened and none of the inmates have arrived yet.
In the dream I'm part of a small group that is touring the facility. The warden shows us a room with a hot tub and a spa. Then he says "You might like this" and leads me into a room with a fully-equipped recording studio.
The scene changes and I'm standing in front of a countertop making a sandwich. What I remember most is the vivid red of the plastic wrapper on the loaf of bread.
The wrapper is open and pieces of bread are spilling out onto the counter. I'm holding five or six pieces of bread in my left hand. I'm spreading Dijon mustard on each of the slices, one by one.
All around the room are shelves full of loaves of bread in their bright red plastic bags.
They're counting down to launch the nuclear missiles, and I'm scared because the whole thing is a big misunderstanding.
I've been trying to get into the Premier's office to explain everything (the dream takes place in Russia and everyone's speaking Russian, including me). I'm running down a long fancy hallway, opening doors at random, trying to find the office of the official officer in charge of nuclear destruction.
When I reach the end of the hallway, I notice a smell that reminds me of frying steak. I pull open the door to the emergency stairs. There's a whole crew of people standing on the landing having a big barbecue.
"Surprise!" they yell in Russian.
Then someone calls out "1-2-3-4" and the band kicks in. The band is The Pogues and they're performing "If I Should Fall From Grace With God." There's lots of food and pretty girls and lots of people dancing.
I try to tell a couple of people about the missiles, but no one seems too worried about it.
I dreamed I was in Moncton, New Brunswick in the middle of a record-breaking snowstorm.
I'm hiding out in a bus shelter. Even though it's a flimsy structure and the storm is raging all around me, I don't feel cold or even the slightest bit uncomfortable.
There's a baby stroller in the shelter with me and it's full of cans of fruit cocktail. I open the cans one by one and eat a bunch of fruit and then pour the rest out on the ground.
After I'm done, I throw the can out the door of the shelter, where the wind grabs it and whips it away into the storm.
In my dream I'm watching TV. The picture is bad and I don't like what I'm seeing but I can't change the channel.
Suddenly the picture comes in crystal-clear. It's a wireframe 3-D diagram of a saucer-shaped UFO.
The image revolves around and around and I can hear a voice, it's not coming from the TV speakers but it's right inside my head, and it's saying "You must not reveal the secret to anyone."
I pick up the remote control and shut off the TV. Then I'm down at the corner store buying a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips and a can of root beer.
I'm arguing with the clerk because he won't sell me one individual cigarette, which is odd because I don't smoke.
I'm down at the onion farm. Emily is there, telling me all about growing onions. There's a red-and-white striped silo and an old-fashioned tractor.
Smoke comes out of Emily's mouth when she talks even though she's not a smoker.
Suddenly I realize that the silo is on fire. Flames are shooting out the top of it. I go to tell Emily but when I look at her, she grins an evil grin. Through the black smoke I can see flames in her mouth. She gives a low chuckle.
It all sounds sinister, but in the dream it was actually kind of funny.
I must have been hungry because I dreamed about spaghetti again. Great big pot of spaghetti, boiling on the stove.
Slowly I stirred the spaghetti in the pot. Slowly it boiled. Gradually the spaghetti absorbed all the water and congealed into a quivering, pulsing pasta-brain.
The pasta-brain was like some kind of brain-wave magnet. I could feel it pulling at my consciousness. Before long it was thinking all my thoughts for me.
The pasta-brain was thinking: "Add some cayenne pepper. Do not eat me. Place me on the middle of the highway at midnight tonight."
Last night I dreamed that a banana in my cupboard had rotted so much that it turned black, then purple, then red. The skin of the banana had become hard to the touch.
I took the banana outside and tried to fling it into the field. As I watched, it boomeranged around and flew straight back at me. The banana clocked me in the head and knocked me down on the ground.
Then my brother appeared with a clipboard in his hand. He looked down at me and smiled and ticked a few things off on the clipboard.
I'm dressed up as a snowman. I have these white furry pants on with a fluffy little white tail. I have a real carrot for a nose. The costume is filthy.
I'm walking through a shopping mall in East Saint John. There's a woman sitting at the kiosk with an older lady.
I take off my carrot nose and hand it to the younger woman. She looks at her grandmother, who nods. Then she takes a bite out of the carrot.