Sometimes I think my dreams could work as goofy B horror movies. This is one of them. As usual it seemed much less goofy at the time
I dreamt that I was riding in a double decker bus down a street in Port Aransas. There were military helicopters flying very low right above the street, and even stranger than that, we could see space shuttles taking off one after another from Houston. They weren't quite regular space shuttles, either. They were sleek and futurey lookin. I pointed this out to my fellow passengers, but I was the only person who seemed to think it noteworthy. I commented to the person sitting next to me that it was President Bush and all his pals evacuating the planet because he had just fucked up and started the Apocalypse. I was joking, but at the same time I was sure it was true.
Just then, a mushroom cloud could be seen in the direction of Houston. I jumped out of the window of the bus and started running in the opposite direction, as though that would help. After a few steps, all I could see was fire. I heard in my head a weird poem about fire which I don't remember very well, but when it was over it was credited to Darryl Strawberry. Weird.
Suddenly the fire was gone, and I was back in a field off the road in Port Aransas, but there were all these weird mutated lizardy things running around. I ran past them and into a deserted town, and began preparing for the inevitable post-apocalyptic zombie holocaust. I mean, that's what happens after a nuclear apocalypse, right? Mutated things, zombies, and depending on the number of human survivors, roving homoerotic biker gangs. Everyone knows that.
Anyway, I looked for a house that was suitably defensible vs. zombies. After eliminating one candidate, I turned to leave and on my way out I was suprised that there was a woman sitting at a computer the whole time who had turned to look at me. She seemed to be barely interested in the guy who had just barged into her room. As I was about to leave, the closet burst open and she was pulled into it by what I can only describe as tentacles of living shadow.
I decided that chivalry and heroics would probably be an act of male chauvinism or something like that, so I took off. As I was leaving the house, I met Travis Rathert and Eryck Kratville coming in. I forgot all about the terrifying closet monster and decided to make idle chit chat. They speculated as to why THEY ended up in a shadowy netherworld, even though it made sense for me to be there. "Maybe you guys picked the wrong denominations of Christianity," I suggested. At that point the computer woman came out of the other room looking all crazy and bloodthirsty a la 28 Days Later. The three of us freaked out and ran, although you'd think any one of us could take a small woman, in zombie frenzy or not. I guess we didn't want to risk her having some kind of unholy super strength or laser eyes.
We ran into another group of zombies(?) pretty quickly. These had sharpened sticks that looked like they had been ripped off of chairs. Trav and Eryck had inexplicably picked these up at some point too. There was some 'apokin and 'astabbin. A good time was had by all. At some point I was pinned beneath dead bodies.
Suddenly, all I could see was a computer screen. It was a survey to rate one of the "New 6 Circles of Hell" by "the 'awful' designers." I have no idea why awful was in quotes. I was I was to rate my experience in overall torment and terror quality. I rated it as overly high because I certainly didn't want them to increase the levels of unholy torture.
After the survey I found myself in a hospital bed with bandages completely covering my face. I tried to scream, but every time I did it sounded exactly like a muted jazz trumpet wailing. I woke up soon after this, and my blanket was covering my face. I assume that's what inspired this last part of the dream.
I dreamt that I was riding in a double decker bus down a street in Port Aransas. There were military helicopters flying very low right above the street, and even stranger than that, we could see space shuttles taking off one after another from Houston. They weren't quite regular space shuttles, either. They were sleek and futurey lookin. I pointed this out to my fellow passengers, but I was the only person who seemed to think it noteworthy. I commented to the person sitting next to me that it was President Bush and all his pals evacuating the planet because he had just fucked up and started the Apocalypse. I was joking, but at the same time I was sure it was true.
Just then, a mushroom cloud could be seen in the direction of Houston. I jumped out of the window of the bus and started running in the opposite direction, as though that would help. After a few steps, all I could see was fire. I heard in my head a weird poem about fire which I don't remember very well, but when it was over it was credited to Darryl Strawberry. Weird.
Suddenly the fire was gone, and I was back in a field off the road in Port Aransas, but there were all these weird mutated lizardy things running around. I ran past them and into a deserted town, and began preparing for the inevitable post-apocalyptic zombie holocaust. I mean, that's what happens after a nuclear apocalypse, right? Mutated things, zombies, and depending on the number of human survivors, roving homoerotic biker gangs. Everyone knows that.
Anyway, I looked for a house that was suitably defensible vs. zombies. After eliminating one candidate, I turned to leave and on my way out I was suprised that there was a woman sitting at a computer the whole time who had turned to look at me. She seemed to be barely interested in the guy who had just barged into her room. As I was about to leave, the closet burst open and she was pulled into it by what I can only describe as tentacles of living shadow.
I decided that chivalry and heroics would probably be an act of male chauvinism or something like that, so I took off. As I was leaving the house, I met Travis Rathert and Eryck Kratville coming in. I forgot all about the terrifying closet monster and decided to make idle chit chat. They speculated as to why THEY ended up in a shadowy netherworld, even though it made sense for me to be there. "Maybe you guys picked the wrong denominations of Christianity," I suggested. At that point the computer woman came out of the other room looking all crazy and bloodthirsty a la 28 Days Later. The three of us freaked out and ran, although you'd think any one of us could take a small woman, in zombie frenzy or not. I guess we didn't want to risk her having some kind of unholy super strength or laser eyes.
We ran into another group of zombies(?) pretty quickly. These had sharpened sticks that looked like they had been ripped off of chairs. Trav and Eryck had inexplicably picked these up at some point too. There was some 'apokin and 'astabbin. A good time was had by all. At some point I was pinned beneath dead bodies.
Suddenly, all I could see was a computer screen. It was a survey to rate one of the "New 6 Circles of Hell" by "the 'awful' designers." I have no idea why awful was in quotes. I was I was to rate my experience in overall torment and terror quality. I rated it as overly high because I certainly didn't want them to increase the levels of unholy torture.
After the survey I found myself in a hospital bed with bandages completely covering my face. I tried to scream, but every time I did it sounded exactly like a muted jazz trumpet wailing. I woke up soon after this, and my blanket was covering my face. I assume that's what inspired this last part of the dream.
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