Indiana Jones and the Temple of Football

Don’t ask.  I had quite a night of weird dreams.  But only are few are on recall.

To kick everything off – so to speak – I was at an indoor football arena, where rising stars were being trained by football legends.  But for some reason, Tony Stewart was there, parading around in a pair of shorty shorts, showing off his new car.

Then people were placing bets, and just when I was about to place mine, Indiana Jones grabbed my arm, and shook his head, saying “Let’s get out of here”.

And then we were on our way to a Madonna concert.

 

I should’ve written things down when I got up for the bathroom at 5, but I was so dead tired, I was more concerned with making it back to my bed without my legs failing me.  I’ve fallen a few times.  I guess I don’t sleepwalk very well.

However, I do recall the next brief dream sequence, and I’m pretty sure it was triggered by reading phanfiction right before I went to bed last night.

 

Heart eyes and love eyes at their best.

Except in my dream, they were walking around Berlin, openly holding hands without a care in the world.  And then they stopped, and Phil took Dan’s face into his shaky hands and proposed.  And right before I heard my daughter shriek at my son – which ripped me from sleep – I remember my dream-state subconscious thinking ‘just kiss‘.

And now I’m pissed because I never got to see Dan and Phil kiss in my dreams, because there was an argument going on upstairs between my daughter and my son about how he shouldn’t wear sweatpants to school, and that he looks like a total slob.

For f*ck sake, it’s the last day of school.  Leave him alone and stay OUT of my room!

Thanks, Phil

Last night’s dreams were scattered, with few details remembered.

In case you’re wondering who Phil is, he’s the very flirty half of a dorky duo I love and sometimes include in my entries.  But I didn’t dream about him.  He’s just to blame for what I’m about to assault you with.

The first thing I remember is going to the doctor to get my ear cleaned.  I think I was trying to reach my brain irl as I slept.  I have a very itchy ear for some reason.  Mainly the side I sleep on.  Anyway, the doctor insisted that I had to see an oral surgeon for the tmj & tinnitus I have.

Uh, excuse me, how did she know I have tmj & tinnitus?  Apparently my ears were ringing so loudly, she could hear it.   So she was now guiding me into another exam room, where there were a ton of drills, scalpels, and other torture devices all over the place.

After pleading with the oral surgeon, convincing him I’ve already had enough surgeries for three lifetimes, he let me go with a prescription to help me with my vertigo.  Thanks for the anxiety, doc.  I hate you.  Now give me some Xanax while you’re at it … ???

Then I was driving in the dark to find an open convenience store because now I was thirsty and hungry af.  I’m pretty sure I was hungry and thirsty irl.  I woke at 3 to visit the throne, and I consume almost 20 ounces of water again.  And then Kevin woke up for work, and he was like “Are you okay?”  “No.”  Because on my way back to bed, I somehow gave myself a muscle spasm in my upper back, next to my shoulder blade.  Great.

Once I finally drifted off again, I was now sitting in my dad’s garage, with Criss Angel asking him a bunch of questions about me.  He apparently wanted to hire me as an assistant in his secret Las Vegas warehouse.

But as I was cleaning up the garage – because CRISS ANGEL WAS THERE! – I bent to pick up something, and my dad made a weird face.  I must’ve sat in something, because Criss was now staring at my ass.

Leave it to my dad to say “You really need to take better care of your lady door”. WTF DAD!!!  AND PHIL, for his Goddamn lady door!  Well, at least Criss didn’t chime in with female exit.  And if you’re not a phannie, you’ll have no f*cking clue what the hell I’m on about with lady door and female exit.

If you’re from the UK, then you’re more likely to know who Dan and Phil are.  That’s Phil on the right.  And my daughter says I’m a very bad cougar for liking them.

And now it’s time to face 6 baskets of laundry.  I’d rather clean the bathroom.

 

 

Aye Aye!

That should technically be II, but the average reader wouldn’t understand.

My two favorite internet personalities kicked off their Interactive Introverts tour a few days ago. Twitter, Instagram, and Tumblr are exploding with spoilerinos.  If you’re not a fan of spoilers, don’t you dare search that tag.  You might have a meltdown of sorts.  Especially if you’re a demon phannie.

the adventure begins. danandphiltour.com

A post shared by Daniel Howell (@danielhowell) on

And since each show is supposedly different, who knows what they have up their sleeves?

Somehow, I just knew months in advance, that Dan would be playing the piano for us.  I get those ‘prediction’ feelings sometimes.  I cannot wait to see in it person.  Dan at the piano is my ‘aesthetic’.  Playing the piano is one of Dan’s passions, and I love him for that fact alone.  I can totally see him becoming the leader of a new YouTube movement – performing his own originals on the piano.  Could music possibly be the next major trend for aspiring YouTubers?  We will see…

If you really need spoilers, then by all means, stalk that iispoilers tag.  But I don’t recommend it if you’re planning to attend a show or three.  Spoilers ruin the surprise!

Meanwhile, Dan and Phil are busy giving the people what they want, whilst regularly updating their Instagram stories.  Those are fun, and they make them even more fun!

See you soon, boys!

 

The Ranch

My sleep sucked last night, thanks to heartburn.  It was my fault, of course.  I was an idiot, and decided to eat a small bag of my favorite Doritos.

Once I finally got to sleep, I went into dreams about my two favorite internet personalities.

In my dream, I was at a meetup, where there was a small group of fans.  Dan and Phil were making us do weird things for pictures to put in their new Interactive Introverts book, which I guess was part of their evil plan to include us in whatever they’re doing.

When Phil suggested we all pose with Darth Vader masks, I had to sit out of the picture because my head is too big, and I couldn’t find a mask/helmet big enough.  But then I was the photographer taking the damn picture.  I wanted to be in the book, dammit!

After all the photo ops, we were now on a beach for some reason, and I was still the damn photographer.  But the rest of the fans were off doing their own things, while I was recording Dan doing some weird exercise along the waterline.

His legs were criss-cross applesauce, and he was using his arms to push himself into the water.  Meanwhile, Phil was behind me, encouraging Dan by repeatedly saying “Good boy”, with Dan yelling “SHUT UP! They’ll hear us, and then the cat’s out of the bag that you’re my daddy!”.

I’m so far in the trash bin……

This morning, after my son got off to school, I went into even stranger dreams.

The setting was some animal ranch, hidden away in the middle of nowhere.  The only way to get to it was to drive a few miles on a ‘seasonal’ dirt road, which was only accessible if you had a code to the locked gate.  No problem.  One of my cousins gave me the code.  Turns out he was the owner of the ranch, and a few people were headed there for a party and fireworks.

But by the time I arrived, someone had found the secret location, and blew up the gate.  After hoofing it all the way to the ranch to warn everyone, the terror had already begun.  Animals were dying, and whoever was doing it was now looking for someone.  I can’t remember who, but we all locked down inside the barn, which was attached to the main house.

I remember trying to help the horses stay alive, but the only way was to sit up in their saddles to untangle ropes that were strangling them.  After that, I made my way into the main house, where I was taking care of many cuddly cats and dogs.  Something tells me this is my subconscious at work, because I want a pet so desperately.

After all was done with the animals, it was time for dinner, and my brother’s girlfriend showed up to help, leading us to a weird wing, close to the edge of the property – which was a f*cking cliff.  Next to the kitchen was a storage room of sorts.  Except in the room was a computer desk, and tables loaded with crafting supplies.  I absolutely had to have all the coloring supplies.  But she let me just borrow some.

Skip over dinner, and now I’m in a living room, in front of a fireplace with my adult coloring books and markers, trying desperately to get my cell phone to work with the ranch wi-fi.  Time to call my other brother, the computer wizard.  Except he was having issues with his cell phone.  And then he was busy talking to his wife, asking her questions about their new phones.

What they didn’t realize was I could hear everything they were saying … and doing.

Even worse is how I went into a completely different scene, where I was doing … things, with whom, I can’t recall.  And of course I woke up gagging, because I started gagging in my dream.  I won’t say why.

Totoro Is Possessed

As cute and cuddly as he is, I must admit those eyes can be slightly unsettling when you’re trying to sleep.  But I generally face the wall when I sleep, because the fan is on my nightstand, and I need to drape my hand across it in order to get any amount of sleep.

Totoro’s loving gaze isn’t usually an issue for me anyway.  He’s on my side of the headboard, facing forward most of the time.  But at least twice a week, I find him facing the other way, with his poor face in the corner section of the headboard.  And when I reach for him in the morning, I’m greeted with a big fat tail.

Either Kevin doesn’t like him, or his tail is so big, it gets in the way of his sleep.  I’m afraid to ask Kevin why I keep finding Totoro facing the other way.

Maybe I’ll just stick him with Pikachu on the nightstand.  But then I’m afraid I’ll wake up to something weird, or they’ll invite my moose, koala, and giraffe for a secret party when I least expect.  And then they’ll all be lined up on my headboard in the morning, facing the other way when I wake.

Meanwhile, it’s time to consider cleaning.  My friends are getting dusty, and I’m sure they’re getting pissed at me for giving Totoro more attention.

And just so you know, I never really had soft squishy cute plushies as a child.  I’m making up for it with just a few.

The only ones I need now are …


…my boys…

Now if only there were a Criss Angel plush.  Time to drop an email with APWI marketing.