Aug 14, 2007

Visions Non-Genius, Et Al.

A man with no taco is a man with no country. I think I dreamed that I said that last night. I was on a date with a woman (something I am not in the habit of doing-- I am more of a "Fuck and Run" kinda guy) and I told her that. We walked out of the restaurant and I said I was kind of sleepy. We slept in the back of a cab.

What does it all mean?

I'm hungry as hell, and I need to remember to have sex with the women in the cabs while I am dreaming. I mean, who loses in that scenario? Or, quite possibly, the lights have finally gone off in the back of the tunnel. Maybe, just maybe, my mind has shut down completely. See, it used to be that I dreamed about the mundane things and it forced me to make my life a series of off-color observations (thus this rambling and insane blog and its series of uncorrected gaffes/typos). Now, though, my dreams from the last few nights that I actually slept:

--Taco Cab (featured here)
--The one where I freestyle-battled a lion with NAIR as a judge (neither the lion nor I actually rapped)
--The one where my friend Randy told me I was never going to work again because he stopped the train with his teeth
--The one where I ran faster than a gun that had legs
--My recurring dream where I am driving alone on an interstate with no radio and the windows up (RELIEF!)
--The one where my pizza slice kept disappearing into the fridge when I tried to take a bite

I hate (HATE) talking about dreams, but this is getting weird. Stress, man. Shit is getting REAL right now.Or UNreal, as it were. In any event, I am passing time doing the day from drink to drink, job to job, unbearably bizarre vision to unbearably bizarre vision. It's all I got not to seriously jump into this scenario:

kathleen:how are the two jobs
me: Eh, it's a living.
I'm tired a lot.
Other than that, I'll be out of immediate debt soon, which is nice.
kathleen: yes, it is worth it to bust your ass for a bit
me: such is life, friend.
8:12 PM kathleen: i think i need to pick up job #3
me: Ugh.
kathleen: or job #6 if you count my non-paying dance jobs
me: That's no good.
8:13 PM kathleen: its okay, i just would like to have some more money for things like my dance company
me: Let's quit our jobs and live under the underpasses
kathleen: cool
can i have rehearsal there?
me: We can wear newspaper pants and dance to warm ourselves
We'll call it "rehearsal," sure.
8:14 PM kathleen: yeah i am down
me: I'll get us a sweet job collecting useless items on sidewalks for booze money and write my poetic ramblings on gas station walls and bathrooms
kathleen: awesome
8:15 PM i will beg in the subway
me: We'll live like kings in queens
kathleen: harharhar
me: good underpasses there
please kill me

Just for good measure, later in the conversation, this happened:
kathleen: yeah babymakin is incredibly uncool
especially welfare style
me: So is starving a baby
8:20 PM kathleen: or stealing baby formula from the local grocery store
me: I would starve the shit out of a damn baby for a damn sandwich right now.
kathleen: hahahaha

Oh, and also for good measure...

Just to be annoying:
Stephen Crane.

My 100th post is coming up on the next ramble. I hope I can make it special.

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