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I continuously smash flat rocks with my rubbery sledge hammer, forcing an old sailor to tell me about the spirits I am conjuring by doing so.

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I am at Conan's house. A party is about to start. I have a difficult task dictated by instructions printed on folded cardboard cards. Each successive clue, however, makes my job somewhat easier, culminating simply in "play Foreigner real loud.” People start to arrive in rusty jeeps. I check my guitar in its black case. My pal J complains that some of the guests will be “girl hogs.”

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I am about to do a knife fight scene in a movie. The two bad guys, one large, walk off. I ask my pal for some quick knife lessons and hand him a stick. His is longer than mine. Finally, I find a carrot of equal length.

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I am sitting in an English pub, having beers with twins. As we drink, our minds are altered by a woman in a blue kimono. We bridge into another dimension and move forward (or backward) in time.

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I swim in deep marble tanks with dreadlocked mermaids.

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I sit in a plush chair. I am wearing a black neoprene glove. I retract the blade from a pistol-shaped utility knife. I hear the boss' son approaching me from behind. I hear the boss' order and wait for a bullet in the back of my head. I slump down in the chair and scream, twice, still waiting.

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R and I stop our car in a snowy ravine. I get out and skate around on the ice. We drive around a large frozen lake. It gets dark. We pass some horse-dragons with long, stiff, black spike-tendrils poking out of the backs of their long necks. Later, we drop F off at his tiny house. It has central heating that is performed by a dog statue.

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I am on a guided nature hike with a small group. Nature has been enhanced with some colored lights under the stream. In flying mode, I hover above the stream and spiral up and down the banks, all the while watching as the lights swirl. Finally, tiny lights like fireflies flutter down creating a fake gentle rain.

• Why is the Alibi so uptight? (woodshed) [ Sat Apr 27 2013 11:05 AM ]
  
• I know why. (KOJAK) [ Sat Apr 27 2013 2:30 PM ]
  

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I live in a haunted apartment: furniture and propane tanks move toward me, menacingly. I pray fervently. I know am protected now and my fear is stilled. Later, I tell a black kid about the incident.

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I'm in a band, playing on stage with B, an Elvis impersonator. My guitar strap is loose. I take off my white Strat and put it on B as I continue to play the song, a rocker, while he stands there wearing it. As the audience cheers and applauds, I grab B's hair and make him take some bows.