Rowdy’s Dream Blog #318: I Ate All the Candy
In a basement rec room, a girl in a blue kimono giggles as she recounts how I ate all the candy. "For such a giggly girl, you can sure make a guy feel bad," I tell her.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #317: Toga Party!
G and I lead our two dogs through darkened hallways lined with folding chairs. We discover that wolves and badgers are sleeping under them. There is much exploratory, reciprocal sniffing, but no growling. We encounter two large pit bulls. As we pass them, I feel a pit bull’s muzzle pressed against the small of my back, but I continue walking calmly towards the door. We enter a well-lit room filled with people dressed in togas. A cheerful woman tells us that we are about to be treated to a special performance. We sit on sheet-covered bleachers, dressed in togas and wait for the show to begin.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #316: Alone in Egypt
I am alone in Egypt, riding in a cab driven by Gopardo. We are driving through a heavy snowstorm. The streets are icy and the winds are howling. We come to a stop sign and merge onto a highway with a 60 percent grade. The one-lane road climbs straight up the side of a huge, pink and orange sandstone mountain. We are soon above the storm and climbing in a line of other cars past high, billowing clouds bathed in sunset colors. I can feel we are beginning to slow down and I worry that if we slow to a stop we’ll start to slip backwards. I voice my complaint to Gopardo. We finally arrive on top in a small village. I see the Mayor and another city official fishing by the road over a cliff. They get their lines tangled together and in their struggle to get them free, they both slip off their perches and dangle in the air, clinging to their poles. Outside on firm ground, I want to go into the hotel and get a room, but looking down I see that I have bare feet. I hope that my dad was able to retrieve my stuff for me from my last hotel room. Looking down again, I see that I am now wearing my crocks. He must have been successful. I enter a small Greek restaurant and sit down at a picnic table with G and her dad. The menu, when opened, contains small packets of dates and almonds wrapped in clear plastic. I see my co-worker, M, sitting on the floor. I hand him a menu. He explains he can’t be bothered with such small orders. The owner woman emerges from the kitchen carrying a large, cloth-wrapped bundle for him containing wheels of cheese and giant rounds of bread filled with layers of butter and olives.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #315: Two Girls are Using Ted’s Apartment
I visit the girls in the apartment to our right. They tell me that two girls, a blonde and a redhead, are using Ted's vacant apartment to our left. I knock and ring the bell. The door is made of cement and is sealed shut. I can see them moving around inside. My sister comes out of our apartment with cuts on her face. She has been in a fight with a Best Buy salesgirl. The fight started over a misunderstanding that a DVD would capture the details of her private life.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #314: The Kid Behind the Counter Blew Snot at Me
G and I embark on a freeway trip in separate vehicles. I lead the way in my gratified coupe. I stop at a roadside diner and go inside. The surly teen behind the counter blows snot at me through a straw, smirks and asks how he can help me. I jump over the counter and pick him up by his shirt, which is full of corn flakes. They crumble and crumbs rain out on the floor. I hock up a big loogie, but decide instead to just set him back down. As I do, he jumps up about four feet in the air. I turn to leave and start out toward my car. Outside, I see the old restaurant inspector leaning against the wall around back, so I head toward him. Just then ex-girlfriend, R, and her family arrive. We all say hello to each other, coolly, and they head inside. The inspector is younger now. He wears a sharkskin, velvet-lapeled suit jacket and he's smoking. I start to tell him about the incident inside. He interrupts me and asks if it was the girl who did it. I tell him yes, having now forgotten the facts.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #313: A Chinese Restaurant Opened in My House
I fly our single engine plane, low, into town, causing an ex-girlfriend to swerve on her bike. Our home now hosts a new, bad, Chinese restaurant. There is a neon sign out front. Our special is seaweed served in little packets. I note that "a neon sign does not a Chinese restaurant make."
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #312: A Businessman is Up to No Good
The wizened VP of our company joins our table at the bar. He claims to be up to no good. I offer that he must have some legitimate pursuits. He shakes his head no and asks me if I want to pursue this line of questioning.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #311: How I Save Time When I am Late.
I am late for a gig. I eat two slices of pizza at once to save time.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #310: Towers and Birds.
Two dreams in one! Brutus woke up in between dreams and took a sip of brown carbonated dream juice.
I see the Lumpur Towers, painted like Pepsi cans.
My pal has long strands of straw sticking out of the front of his blue sweater. He explains they're for the birds to pick at.
Rowdy’s Dream Blog #308: I get to drink a dream martini, then I have to deal with bugs.
I am at Realtor MiMi's party. She is famous for her martinis. I talk with an old guy about his new place on Gold Dust Avenue, downtown. Some women approach and ask me to go out into the back yard and kill a black widow. Outside, in bare feet, I am swarmed by centipedes.