I don’t do drugs.
I swear, I don’t.
I mean, unless you count alcohol as a drug (which I don’t), but even then , I only have an average of ONE DRINK a month. If I’m lucky.
How, then, do I explain the dream I had last night?
Sure, I don’t remember all of it. Who remembers their dreams with 100% clarity? Not this guy.
But I remember some of the aspects of it, and they’re messed up. To begin:
Around 3 a.m., there was some sort of conflict going on, and I dove under a car for cover, whereupon I was promptly greeted to an Alien face-hugger trying to say “hi.”
I have heard the expression “jolted awake,” but I don’t think it had ever happened to me, but I completely spazzed out and jerked the hose out of my CPAP mask. Needless to say, I didn’t wear the mask for the rest of the night.
Right before I woke up this morning, I was in a theater where there was some sort of hybrid, live-action/filmed musical event going on, kind of like watching the recent Peter Pan, Sound of Music or Grease Live, but in between performers in the theater doing their bits were various filmed portions of the story.
Now, for some reason, I was accompanied by Kevin Smith (yes, the Kevin Smith of Clerks fame), who was a wonderful companion, by the way. I seem to recall that we were having very interesting discussions about movies and about the event we were watching.
[Shadow note: I wish I could remember what the show was supposed to be: I’ll be I could write it up and sell it to some network or other]
Now, before you think I was stuck in the middle of some homo-erotic fantasy about Kevin Smith (I love you, Kevin; I’m just not IN LOVE with you), there was a young lady there.
Now, to bring this firmly back to the realm of homo-eroticism, Rick Springfield (yep: “Jesse’s Girl” Rick Springfield) came out into the crowd and was handing out Pokemon blankets. I got one.
And then I woke up.
What the hell, man?