recently on ILX Dreams...

I don't know what this means! I've never even listened to a Metallica album.

Thank you, Dr. Dastoor!

It better not be bad luck to mention a dream about someone dying.

I had a dream about waiting for a certain Ilxor to get out of the bathroom recently. They were taking a long time. The name is being struck from the record in order to protect the innocent.

Later, in an unrelated dream, I smoked a few bowls of pot with my dad at a rock concert/short story reading/weird cultural event in a stadium in Pittsburgh.

I remember the Pinefox getting the ball in our half of the field, somewhere outside the penalty box, and he began to dribble in a kind of loping, feinting manner around the perimeter, not attacking the goal (nor passing) but almost just for the beauty of it, keeping to the outside, and keeping the ball away from us. Not directly defending, I was more of a midfielder, and so hung back a bit, waiting for a mistake or for the ball to pop out. He looked quite smart in his Umbros and black soccer cleats.

Then the pinefox did something curious. He had an appointment to keep, and he kicked the ball hard out of bounds. When it came back in I snared it and had just open grass between me and the opposing goalie, but as is the case with all dreams like this, I either lost the ball or never reached the goal. In any case the end never came.

Last nite I dreamt that I was in some sort of weird competition. I ended up going into the woods & there was a horse which came trotting over. Then it started to speak to me. At first it was pretty cool, but then it turned horrible as it asked me to do some bad things. I cant for the life of me remember what though! (not bad things to the horse i have to add!!!)

*He was a good dream kisser, too.

was it martin?

*mmmmwahwmwammawahmmm*
"HI DERE!"

I'm not naming names until I can tell the two people involved in this dream about it, privately.

I forgot to add that in this dream, Nate was a white rastafarian in a long leather coat. With a gun.

I am reporting another pinefox dream, but unfortunately this one didn't happen on a sunny soccer pitch; I just dreamt that I was reading a post of his that read "Tracer Hand seems to want a world where he is necessary." Not quite those words, but that's the gist.

At any length, the person I was watching TV with was Julia, and the person who was the new consumer reporter for ABC was Ned. *laughs* I didn't think it was creepy or anything -- just thought it would be weird to admit this without chatting with these people in private. Oh well. You're right. Much ado about very little.

*returns to "Sing Blue Silver" therapy*

Graduations: "THE BAHLOOOZ EXPUHLOZHEEIN!"
Bar Mitzvahs: "PLAY THE BAHLOOOZ, PUNK! MAZELTOFF!"
Funerals: "I'M TAALKEEEN BOUT THE BAHLOOOOOOOOOOZ!"

I have only just read Tracer H's posts. I am somehow warmed or cheered to read of his more than one dream of me. I think I like his description of my approach to footy as well.

Then I learned that I had to go to Ireland. It was unavoidable. But I was sad because I thought that Irish people I know were coming over here, and I would not see them.

I woke up before I went, or did not go.

Then I was out on the high street, yes, that old high street, with Amanda Wright. It was terribly windy. She was after chips, I think.

She said other things, some I can't remember, some I can't repeat.

(from last Friday night)
I was leaving a vague someone's apartment, I knew it was very late at night, almost sunrise, and my son was with me, and he was still awake. I realized we needed to get home immediately, so we leave. As I drive towards our house through the 'hood, I have to maneuver through strange gangs of children who are throwing fireworks or explosives or something. The whole thing is very vaguely sinister; after all, it is right before sun-up. Then something explodes near my car and Luk4s and I get out and walk. As we're walking an IRL acquaintance (whom I at one point or another have had a massive crush on) appears out of the strange throng gathered at my door, but no real involvement in the dream-plot yet. Anyway, my house is full of cops who show me all these strange drugs they've found in my house, drugs that I definitely AM NOT down with: heroin, crack, meth, etc. Then they handcuff me and drag me away from Luk4s, who is yelling "DADDY! DADDY!". As I'm dragged out the door, away from my son, random crush/acquaintance watches, points, and laughs.