Monday, August 25, 2003

Money to burn

There is a pile of stuff sitting by the curb on wet grass. Has it been raining? Is the stuff trash or the belongings of a person that has been evicted? I start to go through it and realize it is debris from a house fire. I begin finding valuable junk. A black man hovers nearby and starts going through the pile. I try to work a deal with him to guard the stuff while I go get my car to load it up. I promise to spilt everything with him. I know he has no reason to trust me and that he’ll probably just grab what he can and take off. So there would be plenty of junk left for me. Then I turn over a board or a thick stack of paper. Underneath I discover a wet, muddy, blackened soaked pile of money. I hurriedly grab the pile, scooped up pieces of random wet paper with it. I gather the pile to my chest trying to cover the money. I keep talking to the man as I struggle to gather up the money, keep him from seeing what I am doing and digging through the debris looking for more cash. I grow more frantic and clutch the arm-load of filthy paper to my chest.

Thursday, August 21, 2003

Time to celebrate

I’m with 2 or 3 women in a hole in the wall but trendy restaurant. I run into Dave inside the front entrance, he is fall down drunk. I take him back to his apartment, but I don’t recognize it as anyplace that he has ever lived.

Brooke and I climb into a Hummer limo. It is as big as a semi truck and I’m driving it through a college campus and onto the city street. It’s impossible to turn, the giant steering wheel almost bigger than my arms can reach. I near hit things or tip over as I navigate the streets. The interior is big enough to walk around in. Brooke stumbles through the cabin, thrown about by the turns.

In a shoddy outdoor concert venue. Jimmy Buffett is on stage. Brooke and I sit on the top row with a chain link fence behind us. In the middle of a song, the sound cuts out. Buffett keeps singing, it seems the people in front of the stage can hear just fine. Realizing the speakers to the upper levels aren’t coming back on, most everyone gets up and start to leave. But then Jimmy Buffett steps up to a microphone stand a few rows below us and say that the upper levels are in for a treat. Then he re-starts the concert from a mini stage just to the right of our seats. I get up to get close and take a picture of him. I sit on a stone column that supports the fence. Buffett ends and song and is talking to a woman in the crowd. Then he steps forward and starts talking to me. I try handing my camera to someone to take a picture but Brooke is not around. A girl takes our picture with her silver camera and someone else takes my black camera and snaps a picture of Buffett and I posed with our arms over each other’s shoulders.

Tuesday, August 19, 2003

Go cats!

Stac and I are driving in my car in the rain. We’re are cruising down an empty highway and I am watching the rain change intensity as I drive. I crack my window and a few streams of water roll in and along the ceiling above me. I worry about it dripping onto my seat. Stacy reaches up to wipe the beads of water away and I stop her. I think that touching the roof will cause more water to leak in as if the top of the car was like the canvas tents I slept under in the Smoky Mountains with the Boy Scouts. (The oil of your skin would break the seal of the waterproofing in the canvas causing a steady drip of water to leak through wherever you touched. Usually right above my head as I was lying down and trying to fall asleep. I could never resist reached up with my fingertip just to see if it would happen again this time.) We drive past the entrance to a Galleria; I ask Stacy where we should go in. We drive on to a stadium that is connected to the Galleria. I recognize this complex from another dream. We run through the underground parking and passageways to a stairway leading to the stadium seats and floor. The University of Louisville cheerleaders are lined up at the bottom of the stairs. I say to Stacy that we just made it. She replies, “For what, half-time?” I tell her that the cheerleaders run out before the start of the game. There are more male cheerleaders than girls. One of the guys is holding an old blue, square-shaped bag. Someone asks him what it is and he yells a 3 phrase cheer that ends with “Cats is Cats.” He asks his fellow cheerleaders what that cheer means, is it their motto? Stacy and I have continued up the stairs, but she turns around at says to the group, “Yes, that is our motto from years ago and next year.”

Monday, August 18, 2003

Sales force

I am being followed. One and sometimes two men are trailing me through a shopping mall. I am with an older guy, a Harrison Ford type, he is teaching me how to spot and lose a tail. Mainly we just stop short, duck quickly into stores or double back. The guys keep chasing us, even though they have to know that we are aware of them following us. But they kept staying behind, trying to keep out of sight.

Tuesday, August 12, 2003

Sales force

I am in a normal convenient store with Brooke. I see a doorway and wander into a different room. It is a porn shop with videos on shelves everywhere. I see a woman wearing lingerie and a weave through the aisles trying to catch her eye and check her out. Then I realize that there are several girls in similar sexy outfits throughout the store. They are just pimping merchandise.

Sunday, August 10, 2003

Show time

A high school play. I am sitting in the front row. Rows of theatre seats circle the stage. Heather and Tara sit across from me on the opposite side of the stage.

Climbing into a treehouse. Roy is wearing a boa and has tattoos. Several teachers are there. A trucker sees them. A teacher chases him behind some houses.

Driving down a street of carnival games. There is a girl in the car. We pull into a casino hotel. It is all one giant basement casino, it’s all we can see. She goes to check in and I grab my bag and one of her suitcases and follow.

Sitting around a dining room table with a family that is not mine. The grandfather is talking to me and trying to decide what to eat. He gets up and goes to the kitchen, then comes back and decides to eat with the family. The boy sitting across from me at the table is gone. He got up and said in a funny deep voice, “Excuse me, I got to go talk to the ladies.” I see him with two girls outside the restaurant and I laugh at him.

Monday, August 4, 2003

Hit it

In a large green park, there are rows of cars parked on the grass of one field. One old blue car sits by itself in the middle of all the other cars. It is a classic although I can’t tell the make. It restored to perfect condition and the paint glistens. I open the door and slide onto the bench seat behind the wheel. I almost expect to find the key in the ignition. Instead I think of Langston’s 64 Chevy that ran if you pulled the key out and the time he claimed that you could start a bulldozer with your thumbnail. So I stick my thumbnail into the ignition and turn. The car starts and I drive off. As I am pulling away, a young Spanish boy runs up beside the car door. He doesn’t yell, just tries to bang on the window. As I drive off, he runs alongside until I pull onto the street. As I drive down the block, I realize that stealing the boy’s car is wrong. And I want to stop. But I fear being caught. I drive another block or two down a steep hill and pull off to the side of street. The side of the street is a ditch and I have pulled the car over too far so that it will be difficult to pull back onto the street. I don’t want to risk moving it. So I walk off, up the sidewalk back the way I came. A few houses down on the sidewalk begins a yard sale that looks to stretch up the block for several houses. I notice a criss-crossing mesh made of wood that covers the back of a piece of furniture. As I walk past, I hear two old ladies discussing the dresser. One points out to the other that the wooden latticework only runs down the back of the dresser.

I am talking to someone and say “Every pizza calling out for extra cheese.” I go on to list other examples of excess.

Saturday, August 2, 2003

Good action, needs better dialogue

As I turn my office chair towards the hall, Christina walks up to me in a bikini. She turns around so that her back is right in front of my face and asks me to tie her top. I just stare at the strings and then at her arm draped across her breasts. She sits on my lap and my hands grab her waist on each side. She begins grinding me as if giving me a lap dance. She feels my cock get hard and says, “That’s a nice length and width.” My hands drift upwards to cup her breasts.

Friday, August 1, 2003

Action

I’m playing an oversized pinball machine in an empty bar. The pinballs are slightly smaller than baseballs and each is a different color or texture and made of random materials like rubber. One of the balls gets stuck in a mesh wire tube that feeds the balls into the playing area.

Walking down a sidewalk, I see a guy repealing down the side of a building. As he descends, he is writing something in giant letters down the side of the building. It seems to be directions or a location. Then I look over at the rest of the building and it is covered in shaving cream writing, like a paragraph inviting people to a party in the building.

At a party, I sit on top of a tall bank of speakers with a few other guys. We are all wearing tuxedos and drinking cocktails. A girl invites me to go to another party with her. There is a huge buffet of food outside against a brick wall. I go back several times to try different dishes.

My voice is speaking as if I am a narrator of the scene of a man and woman. I say, “He did it once by ________ and once by crow.” I mean that she made him cum by hand and then using her mouth.

A man forces a girl to steal explosives from work. I see the theft happen from the perspective of the girl. She goes to a storage shed and takes a bag of black powder. It is sealed and packaged like a bag of flour.