I was playing bass in KISS.
Weird.
Wednesday 24 March 2010
Wednesday 17 March 2010
Driving Test, Spaghetti and Meatballs, and the First King of Spain
I was taking the written portion of my driver's exam, which was being administered in a basement bomb shelter. Oddly enough, the questions were as follows:
1) Who was the first King of Spain?
2) Where was the Popsicle invented?
3) How many drops are on Coney Island's "Cyclone"?
Clearly, I was upset because none of this was in the study guide - a point I brought up to the proctor.
"Don't worry," he told me as he slurped a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. "You'll kill it on the driving portion of the exam. Let's go do that!"
Excited, I followed him to the parking lot where he pointed me to the vehicle in which I was to complete the driving tasks... a Yellow Bus.
"Ah, fuck!" I yelled. "This is fucked! I don't even know how to pick up kids!"
Weird.
1) Who was the first King of Spain?
2) Where was the Popsicle invented?
3) How many drops are on Coney Island's "Cyclone"?
Clearly, I was upset because none of this was in the study guide - a point I brought up to the proctor.
"Don't worry," he told me as he slurped a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. "You'll kill it on the driving portion of the exam. Let's go do that!"
Excited, I followed him to the parking lot where he pointed me to the vehicle in which I was to complete the driving tasks... a Yellow Bus.
"Ah, fuck!" I yelled. "This is fucked! I don't even know how to pick up kids!"
Weird.
Friday 12 March 2010
Friday 5 March 2010
Adolf Hitler and a fake Italian accent
Adolf Hitler was giving me, my sister and her husband a tour of his house in the Hamptons.
He was wearing big designer sunglasses and was drinking iced tea out of a mason jar.
I was using a fake Italian accent so that Hitler wouldn't know my real identity, which --for some reason -- would spell certain doom.
Weird.
He was wearing big designer sunglasses and was drinking iced tea out of a mason jar.
I was using a fake Italian accent so that Hitler wouldn't know my real identity, which --for some reason -- would spell certain doom.
Weird.
Friday 26 February 2010
The Brewcrew, Wolfmother and a fistfight
I was waiting in line to get into a Milwaukee Brewers game with my pal Louie when he starting arguing with a big jock-type guy over who was a better second baseman: The Dave Clark Five or Johnny from The Karate Kid.
Rather than try and talk sense into the two of them, I laid into the jock guy with a flying kick. He immediately went down and Louie and I began to pummel him with a series of punches and elbow drops.
We then tied him to a lamppost and followed up with a barrage of kicks to the face.
It was gruesome.
After the beat down, Louie and I went into the game and found our seats. We weren't seated for 2 minutes when my father came and grabbed me, "You're on in 1 minute!!" He yelled... "Let's go!!"
Having no idea what he was talking about I got up and followed him through a tunnel and onto a stage.
Next thing I knew, I was playing bass for the terrible band Wolfmother during the halftime performance (and yes, I'm well aware that there is no halftime in baseball).
We rocked through a few songs and the crowd was going nuts, which was weird considering the curtains never opened.
My dad peaked his head through the curtains to tell me that my vocals were bleeding... whatever the hell that means.
Weird.
Rather than try and talk sense into the two of them, I laid into the jock guy with a flying kick. He immediately went down and Louie and I began to pummel him with a series of punches and elbow drops.
We then tied him to a lamppost and followed up with a barrage of kicks to the face.
It was gruesome.
After the beat down, Louie and I went into the game and found our seats. We weren't seated for 2 minutes when my father came and grabbed me, "You're on in 1 minute!!" He yelled... "Let's go!!"
Having no idea what he was talking about I got up and followed him through a tunnel and onto a stage.
Next thing I knew, I was playing bass for the terrible band Wolfmother during the halftime performance (and yes, I'm well aware that there is no halftime in baseball).
We rocked through a few songs and the crowd was going nuts, which was weird considering the curtains never opened.
My dad peaked his head through the curtains to tell me that my vocals were bleeding... whatever the hell that means.
Weird.
Monday 22 February 2010
Tuesday 9 February 2010
Nikki Sixx, BMX and a Wal Mart cashier
I was living with Nikki Sixx somewhere in Los Angeles and our only means of transportation were a couple of totally sweet and magged-out BMX bikes.
We were cruising the Strip... Nikki had a girl in a Wal Mart uniform on his handlebars and I had two brown bagged 40s in my shirt pockets.
"We should get some druuuuuuuuuuugs," Nikki said to me.
"Drugs," I said, "Nah, man we got all this beer."
"Yea, you're right. Now get the fuck off my handlebars," Nikki said as he slammed on the brakes, throwing the Wal Mart girl face first on to the pavement.
The sun had just begun to set.
Weird.
We were cruising the Strip... Nikki had a girl in a Wal Mart uniform on his handlebars and I had two brown bagged 40s in my shirt pockets.
"We should get some druuuuuuuuuuugs," Nikki said to me.
"Drugs," I said, "Nah, man we got all this beer."
"Yea, you're right. Now get the fuck off my handlebars," Nikki said as he slammed on the brakes, throwing the Wal Mart girl face first on to the pavement.
The sun had just begun to set.
Weird.
Friday 5 February 2010
Me, Alex P. Keaton and the Meathead Manager
I was hanging out in a kitchen with Kurt Vile's manager, whom I've never met in person and have no idea what he looks like... but in my dream he was a meathead.
We were talking about which episode of Family Ties was our favorite and how Alex P. Keaton was the only likable sitcom character of the 80s.
Weird.
We were talking about which episode of Family Ties was our favorite and how Alex P. Keaton was the only likable sitcom character of the 80s.
Weird.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
Monday 1 February 2010
A Shotgun Wedding With Actual Shotguns
I was at a wedding that was taking place in a bait and tackle shop in the middle of the woods.
Everyone was in camouflage, including the bride and rather than an open bar, we were resigned to score cans of Bud Light out of vending machines. The top button made the machine shoot out a cold beer. The bottom button gave you a frozen bag of bait.
After much wedding merriment, I went outside to find my car (which was the van I used to drive in high school) only to find it occupied by my uncle Timmy and his black lab Ralph (who died about ten years ago).
"Let's do this," Timmy said as he cracked open two more cans of beer.
I hoped in, put the van in Drive and began to pull away when a police officer -- who looked eerily similar to my 6th grade math teacher -- emerged from the woods.
"Hey! Wait!" he yelled. "I need help!!"
I stopped to see what was wrong and he began clenching his chest like he was having a heart attack.
"I can't breathe!" he said. "Give me some fucking Pepto Bismol!"
I had a bottle of Pepto tablets in the cup holder so Timmy shook two out and I handed them to the cop. He then fainted and fell in a heaped pile into the side of the van.
Rather than throw him in the back with Ralph, Timmy and I decided it would suffice to throw him over the driver's side door (as one would with a wounded soldier over a horse's back) and "just drive real slow" as Timmy said.
Weird.
Everyone was in camouflage, including the bride and rather than an open bar, we were resigned to score cans of Bud Light out of vending machines. The top button made the machine shoot out a cold beer. The bottom button gave you a frozen bag of bait.
After much wedding merriment, I went outside to find my car (which was the van I used to drive in high school) only to find it occupied by my uncle Timmy and his black lab Ralph (who died about ten years ago).
"Let's do this," Timmy said as he cracked open two more cans of beer.
I hoped in, put the van in Drive and began to pull away when a police officer -- who looked eerily similar to my 6th grade math teacher -- emerged from the woods.
"Hey! Wait!" he yelled. "I need help!!"
I stopped to see what was wrong and he began clenching his chest like he was having a heart attack.
"I can't breathe!" he said. "Give me some fucking Pepto Bismol!"
I had a bottle of Pepto tablets in the cup holder so Timmy shook two out and I handed them to the cop. He then fainted and fell in a heaped pile into the side of the van.
Rather than throw him in the back with Ralph, Timmy and I decided it would suffice to throw him over the driver's side door (as one would with a wounded soldier over a horse's back) and "just drive real slow" as Timmy said.
Weird.
Friday 29 January 2010
The New York Mets, a rock wall and some dead alligators
I was at a Mets game in Ireland as they played the Phillies and instead of the relatively easily-to-jump outfield wall, this stadium was bordered by what had to be a 50 or 60 foot rock wall.
So instead of leaping up and snagging homers as they just past the wall, the outfielders had to climb up the rock wall and make their highlight reel-worthy catches from up there.
Luckily for the Mets, though, the frequently hit homers spent a few minutes up in the air and the athletic outfielders had ample time to climb the rock wall... of course, a few brave Mets fell to their deaths but I figured they were making millions of dollars while they were alive so I didn't feel too bad.
My date to the ballgame (whom I didn't recognize... but was very hot) came back from the concession stand with the brochure to a Honda Civic looking car, two Gatorades and a pair of preserved baby alligator heads.
Weird.
So instead of leaping up and snagging homers as they just past the wall, the outfielders had to climb up the rock wall and make their highlight reel-worthy catches from up there.
Luckily for the Mets, though, the frequently hit homers spent a few minutes up in the air and the athletic outfielders had ample time to climb the rock wall... of course, a few brave Mets fell to their deaths but I figured they were making millions of dollars while they were alive so I didn't feel too bad.
My date to the ballgame (whom I didn't recognize... but was very hot) came back from the concession stand with the brochure to a Honda Civic looking car, two Gatorades and a pair of preserved baby alligator heads.
Weird.
Thursday 28 January 2010
Kate Winslet, Strapping Fieldhands, formal wear and a Walkman
(Side note: I wonder why the majority of my dreams are centered around celebrities.)
Kate Winslet and I were walking through a snowy forest on a very, very dark night. Apparently we had just come from a black-tie affair as I was tuxedoed and she was in a blue ball gown which had sparkles dotted across the chest and up the length of her elbow-high gloves.
She kept saying how she needed a new mixtape.
In the distance, I saw a Walkman sticking out of the notch in a tree.
"Jackpot!" I said.
"But Gene (for some reason, I was Gene), we don't have a TAPE!!!" Kate Winslet said... "but it's ok... I know a place where we can get great coffee," she added.
I followed Kate Winslet to a rotted, crumbling shack in a snow covered clearing. She told me that we had to be quiet because the shack belonged to Strapping Fieldhands and that we were gonna break in and get a mixtape.
I found a hammer on a pile of rubble and was about the smash the front window out when Kate Winslet collapsed to the ground, sobbing "I can't hear anything!!"
Weird.
Kate Winslet and I were walking through a snowy forest on a very, very dark night. Apparently we had just come from a black-tie affair as I was tuxedoed and she was in a blue ball gown which had sparkles dotted across the chest and up the length of her elbow-high gloves.
She kept saying how she needed a new mixtape.
In the distance, I saw a Walkman sticking out of the notch in a tree.
"Jackpot!" I said.
"But Gene (for some reason, I was Gene), we don't have a TAPE!!!" Kate Winslet said... "but it's ok... I know a place where we can get great coffee," she added.
I followed Kate Winslet to a rotted, crumbling shack in a snow covered clearing. She told me that we had to be quiet because the shack belonged to Strapping Fieldhands and that we were gonna break in and get a mixtape.
I found a hammer on a pile of rubble and was about the smash the front window out when Kate Winslet collapsed to the ground, sobbing "I can't hear anything!!"
Weird.
Wednesday 27 January 2010
Tuesday 26 January 2010
Todd and the Frat Boy
I was living in a frat house with my (real-life) co-worker and we were interviewing some potential new roommates.
I was showing some frat douche around our massive, yet massively trashed house when frat douche and I came upon Todd sitting in a recliner, watching a televised Pop Warner football game while wearing a karate outfit.
"Hey Todd, this dude's thinking about moving in here," I told him.
"Cool," Todd said without looking up from the television. "I'll be honest, I think you're a pretty awesome dude, but first let me show you some of my moves."
Todd then leaped from his recliner and into a fierce karate-attack stance. He then proceeded to show us the kicks, punches and blocks the he claimed made him a countywide karate icon.
Weird.
I was showing some frat douche around our massive, yet massively trashed house when frat douche and I came upon Todd sitting in a recliner, watching a televised Pop Warner football game while wearing a karate outfit.
"Hey Todd, this dude's thinking about moving in here," I told him.
"Cool," Todd said without looking up from the television. "I'll be honest, I think you're a pretty awesome dude, but first let me show you some of my moves."
Todd then leaped from his recliner and into a fierce karate-attack stance. He then proceeded to show us the kicks, punches and blocks the he claimed made him a countywide karate icon.
Weird.
Italian Volcanoes and Vespas
I was in a gang... but it was more like a team... of Vespa riders, cruising through the mountains of what looked like Southern Italy when the slightly obese, very naked female leader of the team motioned, Navy SEAL style, that we'd pull off for some drinks at a mountainside cafe.
As we saddled up to the bar the naked leader ordered a couple of Budweisers and a man who appeared to be her boyfriend (and also appeared to be Ralph Macchio) ordered mimosas for everyone.
I had just begun sipping my shrimp juice cocktail when the cafe started to rumble and a nearby mountain exploded into the sky...
Naked leader jumped up, yelled "LET'S GO!!!" to the team's unified "HUUUURAH!!!" and onto our Vespas we hopped as she drove the crew straight into the heart of the volcano.
Weird.
As we saddled up to the bar the naked leader ordered a couple of Budweisers and a man who appeared to be her boyfriend (and also appeared to be Ralph Macchio) ordered mimosas for everyone.
I had just begun sipping my shrimp juice cocktail when the cafe started to rumble and a nearby mountain exploded into the sky...
Naked leader jumped up, yelled "LET'S GO!!!" to the team's unified "HUUUURAH!!!" and onto our Vespas we hopped as she drove the crew straight into the heart of the volcano.
Weird.
Friday 22 January 2010
Kim Gordon, The Go Gos and a Volkswagon Scirocco
Boston - Late 80s - but Kim was, for some reason, in her late 40s. I was still 27.
I was at a hardcore show and when I left, Kim was outside leaning up against her teal Volkswagon Scirocco smoking cloves... the driver's side window was open and The Go Gos were on the stereo.
"Need a ride?"
"Sure."
"Cool. But first let me show you some of my bumper stickers."
After explaining to me how the Rolling Stones logo sticker was affixed in protest and the "Lick Pussy, Rock Hard" sticker was just a joke, we were off.
"I need to pick up my daughter first," she said as we careened through damp suburban streets.
We pulled up to a dimly lit house and out ran Kim's daughter who was, oddly enough, Lea Thompson dressed and made up as her character from Howard the Duck.
Weird.
I was at a hardcore show and when I left, Kim was outside leaning up against her teal Volkswagon Scirocco smoking cloves... the driver's side window was open and The Go Gos were on the stereo.
"Need a ride?"
"Sure."
"Cool. But first let me show you some of my bumper stickers."
After explaining to me how the Rolling Stones logo sticker was affixed in protest and the "Lick Pussy, Rock Hard" sticker was just a joke, we were off.
"I need to pick up my daughter first," she said as we careened through damp suburban streets.
We pulled up to a dimly lit house and out ran Kim's daughter who was, oddly enough, Lea Thompson dressed and made up as her character from Howard the Duck.
Weird.
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