The "Man I Had a Messed Up Dream" Thread (1 Viewer)

[Brian Kissinger]

I don't know about you folks, but I find people's (and my own) "messed up" dreams to be quite fascinating and entertaining. So, why not a thread.

I'll start with a gem I had last night.

I was hanging out with Tom Cruise. We were out to lunch and were awaiting a third party....the lovely Nicole Kidman. Whether this was just a friendly lunch, or if it was supposed to be prior to divorce...I don't know. Anyway, she shows up, and remarks that she likes my outfit. Suddenly Tom and I have to go. Where do we go you ask? Why to a pool hall.

Now at some point in my dream (or not...it is a dream) I must have told Tom I was tired of always waiting in the car. So he invites me in. He is in a hurry, and rushes through all the security. I, on the other hand, am stopped by each one. Yes this three story pool hall has many security guards. I only catch glimpses of him going around corners and up stairs. When I reach the final destination (a big wooden door with the word "office" on it), I am stopped by two really big henchmen who will not let me pass. When I tell them that I'm with Tom Cruise, they seem to be satisfied and let me in.

As I enter, I see Tom standing in front of a big desk and Johnny Caspar (a character from Miller's Crossing played by Jon Polito) sitting behind it all red-faced and he yells, "I'm sick of always getting the high-hat from you kid! If you want to continue making blockbuster films, you'll knock off the smart mouth!"

At this point, Tom leans to me and says this will only take a minute. To which I reply, "Why did you bring me in here?" And of course he says because I was always tired of sitting in the car. Well, I politely excuse myself, and head back the way I came to get back to the car.

As I'm almost out, I'm stopped by the janitor. This janitor just happens to be a friend of mine from my workplace named Timmy. He pulls me aside, and asks me, " What the Hell are you doing here? Don't you know what kind of place this is? You can get killed for just looking at someone funny here." So of course I respond with, "What the Hell are you doing here Timmy?" And in a matter of fact voice he says, "I work here part-time."

And that's all I remember. However, the really funny thing is throughout the entire dream, I'm only wearing a pair of boxer-shorts. They have jalapeno peppers on them and read "Hot Stuff" all across them.



Now, I'm not sure what all this means. I'm not sure if I want to know. It kind of got me questioning my own sexuality and/or an attraction I may have to Mr. Cruise. However, since this isn't the place to go into that, I'll just say that anyone who frequents the "Red Hot Nipple Forum" might want to check out any new Tom Cruise threads to catch my thoughts on the subject.

So I invite any comments, and encourage others to share any "crazy dreams" they may have had.

 

[James~P]

tom cruise is badass

 

[James~P]

oh, and my dreams are usually directly related to recent events in my life, and i also have lucid dreams on occasion.



hmmm craziest one... i was in italy, my mom was driving my girlfriend and me to the market place, we were in the middle of a river and went down a water fall, then around a turn into a channel, and then into the marketplace.


at that point, i went lucid, and hung out around the market place for a while floating in the air.



another time, i went lucid in my dream and created the golden gate bridge, and filled it with very happy people and created a big festival with really cool regae music.

 

[Brian Kissinger]

Thanks for sharing. Dreams are awesome!

created the golden gate bridge, and filled it with very happy people and created a big festival with really cool regae music.

I had a dream a long time ago that I was on a bridge. There was no festival, and no Tom Cruise, but it was a really big bridge.

 

[BrettB]

You've got issues.

Sometimes a really big bridge is just a really big bridge.

I almost never remember my dreams and I think I like it that way.

 

[Nathan*W]

I had a dream last year where I was at an event or a party or something, and I'm outside getting ready to walk in and all the sudden a car door opens and Steven Speilberg gets out to go into the event/party too. He's like right in front of me so I say to him, "Steve! Great to see you!" really loudly and he looks at me with a "who the f---" are you expression on his face.

Later on I meet up with him again inside and I apologize for my sarcasm out front and we both have a good laugh about the whole thing! Weird!

 

[SteveGon]

I had a dream where I was on a road trip in Australia with Nicole Kidman, Naomi Watts, and Cate Blanchett. We were all naked, too. Or am I confusing dreams with fantasy? Any way you look at it, it's a pretty awesome scenario...

 

[Hunter P]

Brian and Tom sitting in a tree.
K-I-S-S-I-N-G.:p)

Dude, you totally have the hots for him. Since you shared, I'll share my embarrassing dream. I usually don't remember my dreams but this one stood out.

I dreamed that I was trying out to become a member of the Backstreet Boys. That in itself is wrong. Anyhoo, the tryouts were intensive.

I had to spar with one of the members in a karate match. Pass a written test. Finally, there was the obstacle course. I'm busting my ass to climb over walls, jump over pits, crawl under barb wire as bullets fly overhead. I don't think even James Bond had such a difficult trial.

I even remembered one of the Boys yelling as I ran through the course, "Only the best can earn the right to be a Backstreet Boy.":b

I never knew if I passed the test and made it into the group because I woke up.

 

[BrianW]

Anyway, she [Nicole Kidman] shows up, and remarks that she likes my outfit.

...

However, the really funny thing is throughout the entire dream, I'm only wearing a pair of boxer-shorts. They have jalapeno peppers on them and read "Hot Stuff" all across them.

Where can I get me a pair of these shorts?

 

[BrianW]

Okay, here’s one.

I was walking down a busy, downtown street, lined with quaint shops and storefronts, when my friend and I heard a woman scream. We turned around and found the woman crouched and sobbing over a man lying motionless on the sidewalk. She turned to us and told us that he had just eaten a corn dog. She wanted us to revive him so she could feed him a more “proper” last meal. My friend and I leaned over for a closer look, and to my surprise, the man lying on the sidewalk was... my friend! We looked at each other, but he didn’t seem to recognize himself lying on the sidewalk. Indeed, among the dozens of people gawking at this terrible scene, I was the only one that seemed to notice that my friend was identical in appearance to the man lying on the sidewalk.

The woman grabbed my sleeve and asked if I knew CPR. I reached behind my lapel and extracted a conductor’s baton. I backed away from her, turned around, and proceeded to conduct a symphony orchestra in a brash, boisterous, high-volume number. As in the Looney Tunes cartoons, the musicians seemed to derive the music from my gestures rather than from any existing composition. The woman screamed for me to stop conducting and administer CPR. I said, “No, this is better,” and I beckoned the brass section to begin a loud chorus of descending arpeggios that culminated in a wild, percussive climax. When I transitioned into a lilting string melody, I noticed that the woman had stopped begging. I peered over my shoulder, and I saw the man sitting up of his own accord on the sidewalk, the woman with her arm around his shoulders. She looked up at me with apparent gratitude. The musicians faltered slightly as I looked away, so I quickly turned back to face them and resolved not to be distracted for the big ending. With tears streaming down my cheeks, I summoned all that was musical to bring a successful ending to this life-giving symphony. I finished the last few bars with my eyes closed, totally immersed in the music. Though the music seemed to come out of me, every note was a new, unanticipated surprise. I was more moved than I had ever been, even in my waking life.

I stood there with my eyes closed in total silence, perhaps for a minute. When I opened my eyes, the musicians were gone, as was my baton. My friend walked up beside me, brushing the dust from his jacket. He turned to me, smiled broadly, and extended his hand in congratulations. I smiled, took his hand in a firm grip and said, “You made it! You’re all right!”

“Well, not quite.” His smile diminished as he turned to face the woman behind us. I saw her kneeling on the sidewalk, sobbing convulsively over the dead man’s body. Choking on my own tears, I turned to my friend and said, “But… I thought you were going to be all right! What happened? Was it the ending? Was the ending not good enough?”

My friend smiled reassuringly. “No, the ending was fantastic! I couldn’t have been more pleased.”

I looked back at the sobbing woman as I spoke. “Then what was it? What did I do wrong?”

My friend put his hand on my shoulder to draw my attention away from the scene on the sidewalk. “There was nothing wrong, except that it had an ending.”

What followed next was so ordinary, it could not have been allowed except in a dream world: We proceeded to walk down the sidewalk, looking for a place to eat.

We found a nice sidewalk café and ordered cheesecake. While we waited for our order, my friend reached behind his lapel, pulled out my baton… MY baton!… and began tapping it loudly on the wrought-iron table as he nodded his head and tapped his foot to an imaginary, hideously jazzy beat. He must have seen my dropped jaw because he stopped abruptly when he finally noticed me. He smiled, slipped the baton behind his lapel, and with devious delight said, “Next time, I get to conduct the ending!”

------------------------------------------------

I woke up, noticed it was 4:30 in the morning, and decided I’d had enough sleep that night.

My friend was not anyone I knew or had even seen in real life. He was “my friend” only for the duration of the dream.

The music in my dream kept going through my head long after I awoke, and I was amazed that I had remembered it. It was indeed quite moving and like nothing I had heard before. But when I sat down later that day to write it down, it had left me.

I’m of the opinion that dreams are simply a tool for our subconscious minds to do some filing and housekeeping, and that they don’t mean anything in particular. But this dream definitely came out of nowhere and caught me by surprise. Although I don’t believe it, I must confess that I’ve entertained the thought that somewhere, somebody bearing the likeness of the man in my dream died that night when I finished my symphony. Do you know for whom you conduct your music? Do you know who’s conducting yours?

But, heebie-jeebies aside, there’s actually a measurable, life-affecting outcome to all of this, and that is that I can no longer listen to a Straussian tone poem without thinking of corn dogs.

Of all the damn things...

 

[Ian C]

Worst nightmare I ever had...I was a smurf...I was being chased by Gargamel...who was stepping on all my little blue friends.

 

[Brian Kissinger]

Where can I get me a pair of these shorts?

Funny thing of it is, I don't even have a pair of these.

And to Brian W., that is the single creepiest, funny, and thought-provoking dream ever.

 

[Anthony Connor]

Well the only dreams I can think of now are a bit to raunchy for this fourm.

Regards

AXE

 

[Paul M.Kuziel]

I have this dream that I am dressed in these like sun-god robes. I am standing on top of a great pyramid. Below me are thousands and thousands of cheering naked women and they are throwing little pickles at me.
Anyone else ever have this dream?

 

[Michael Warner]

Here's an odd dream I still recall from way back in 4th grade. My family and I went to our annual school fair where they had games to play and carnival food to gorge on. We walked up to an ice cream vendor who was none other than Nosferatu. I asked what flavors of ice cream he had and he replied "Gasoline and Cigar Smoke." After pondering my options I selected Gasoline and proceeded to eat my cone. When I woke up I could still taste the gasoline in my mouth. Nummy!

 

[Matt Pelham]

Perfectly sums up the logic of dreams!

 

[andrew markworthy]

If I take anything with codeine in it for a headache then I can usually guarantee a bizarre dream the following night. Examples:

(a) a large volcano appearing out of the sea near my parents' house. The only thing that was bothering people was how it would affect property prices in the area.

(b) Acker Bilk (famous Brit musician of the 1960s) persistently playing 'Stranger on the Shore' whilst I'm trying to give a lecture.

(c) My parents-in-law insisting that I have to sleep with both my wife and her (hot and amply-chested) sister. In fact, they made this a condition of our visiting their house in the future. This is hell, of course.

(d) Retaking my entire undergraduate degree and ending up with a lower overall grade.

(e) Being married to a girl I had a (largely unrequited) crush on when I was an undergraduate. Turns out to be vile, because she turns into a nagging harridan.

(f) Playing lengthy jazz piano improvisations.

Before anyone starts the cod-Freudian analysis, there is little firm evidence for what dreams represent. I hope (c) is prophetic, but fat chance. :frowning:

 

[Julian Reville]

Whoa, some of these dreams are way too intense. I can almost guarantee that if I get too hot while I'm sleeping (too many covers, or one of the dog decides to plop down next to me) then I will have a nightmare of some sort. Usually they involve severed heads. Sometimes final exams.

 

[Tom Meyer]

I have bizarro dreams all the time that somehow link into my real life. Here's one of my faves ..

In real life, the bf of a friend of one of my best friends has toured & recorded w/ New Order for the last couple yrs. So, after talking about these two via email one day, I have this dream where I'm at this *huge* New Order concert, as is typical in the U.K. It's an outdoor show, with a big lawn of people sloping upwards from the stage. I'm sitting on the back of the stage, but there's no curtain between the backstage area & the band while they're playing. I then start to totally freak out because I remember that I'm supposed to play drums with New Order at somepoint, yet I don't know how to play drums (I have this sort of dream all the time). So I'm sitting looking at some sort of chart that says stuff like "bass drum, bass drum, snare, high hat, ride cymbol, crash" (presumably my little crib sheet) and I look to my right and there's Kurt Cobain sitting there. He looks up at the wall and sees a plaque taht says something like "Kurt Cobain, 1964-1997" (or something like that) and says "Why is my tomb on that wall ?" and we just kind of look at each other. The dream then ends.

 

[Anders Englund]

The other night I had an odd ream:

I was going to a store to buy a pair of pants. I couldm't decide on what I wanted and ended up buying a kilt instead.

I think I've been listening to Dropkick Murphys too much lately.

--Anders