Dream Journal

Autonomous Secondary Pants & Australian Electoral Waste

I observed the numerous Australian election supplies which are distributed for each election. Too many in my opinion, it’s wasteful and doesn’t actually help democracy — like, who really needs a government-issued sponge roller to help seal your paper envelope? While examining one of these rollers, I poke a hole all the way through the cylinder with a screw. It’s not even cheaply made!

While underneath a wooden structure, I’m informed that the city of Perth is somehow not the capitol of Western Australia, as I thought it was. A YouTuber I enjoy, Ozzie Man, demonstrates how (if one so chooses) one could transmogrify oneself into a depressed puddle.

Someone walking away wearing pants with an extra pair of stuffed legs on the back. A nosy old lady sneaks up behind him then gets kicked by the pants. Which I think is fair given what her intentions seems to be. I wonder if it would turn out fair in court, if it ever came to that.

Dream Journal

Paul Addis on SNL

Paul Addis is hosting SNL. He has a lot of comedy chops, but it’s still a rough show.

Exploring the far west side of Palm Springs, near where I grew up, huddled around the side of the mountain, a building from the 1700s — something similar to the 16th century fort of Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, Florida.

Dream Journal

Rickety Island

Small hill island in a lake, with a large gathering of artsy/resourceful people I know. Scenic, dry, recreational. There are telescopes mounted inside a wooden tower to see the people on the mainland.

I’m there helping with responsibility for the flagpole, used for signaling. By using principles of counterweight, girls ride up and down the pole like aerialists. The hillside has a series of old buildings with an old hydraulic tram system that used to require hundreds of men to operate.


More scattered notes from this night:

  • Billionaire shindig dance upon delivery, messy collage cup tradition, wish them well
  • Zuck has a personality!
  • Going off a green curb in New York, near what would be San Francisco’s ferry building

Dream Journal

A (Brief) Dream About Bernie Sanders

Bernie Sanders is 87 years old.

(I really gotta stop staying up until 6 in the morning. And I gotta stop then being woken up almost immediately with lots of stuff to do.)

(There’s just not a lot of detail in a dream like this. Honestly, it’s a silly thing to save. I just honestly don’t know what meaning/value anyone — including but especially me — could hope to derive from such information.)

(Except to say that keeping a dream journal is important. Somehow. Maybe I’ll find out?)

Until then: Bernie Sanders is 87 years old.

Dream Journal

Drew’s Dinosaur-Infested Pad

Pulling into the driveway of Drew Carey’s bachelor pad with a friend of mine, who just started dating him. His bed is very close to the glass double doors. Inside, we find him playing an sit-inside racing game. Drew is an experienced host and the house has a few sparse rooms with dude-ish amusements, including a foldout pool table (the balls have chips in them though). One sunlit room near the back of the house has a water feature with lazy psittacosauri, crunchy brown pine bonsai, and tiny slimy yellow hadrosaurs — eerily intelligent and otherworldly ones that walk on hind legs.

The story seamlessly transitions to a Jurassic Park story, raptors stalking, and I step out the back door into a sweeping valley, only to peek around the side of the house and see a giant carefully escorting a thin, tottering, grayish Godzilla.