He and I were in a downtown recording studio doing a “voice-over” for one of his films. (I was the voice on the other end of a phone conversattion).
When we finished it turned out that his limo driver was late and we were stuck because my ride was late too. (We finished much earlier than expected, and my SO was shopping).As we are sitting in the lobby of the studio, he says he’s thirsty and would I get us something to drink, he’s buying? He wants a Fanta Orange. Before I leave, he asked me if I happen to have a Gameboy in my briefcase. “No”, I say, “but I do have my persoanl CD and the latest Beatles bootleg you might wanna hear.” And so I hand him the briefcase and take off.
Well, I cannot find a machine that has a Fanta Orange in it anywhere in the building! So I run down the street to a service station and find a machine with Fanta Orange but they’re just being loaded in and so they’re warm! (We are now about 15 minutes into the search, but what, seconds have passed in the dream itself?)
I give the guy 60 cents for a warm Fanta, hoping to get a cup of ice on the way back to the studio lobby, and this is what happens. But…
When I get back, he’s sitting there with headphones on listening to my Beatles bootleg and drinking a can of Fanta Grape!!! “I changed my mind” he says, innocently. So we sit and talk about the Beatles as sweat is running down my face and before he leaves he buys my bootleg.
And that’s my dream. It was like being in one of his movies! Very frantic.
Sorry if this is disjointed or has misspellings, but I literally just woke up and wanted to share this with y’all. Now it’s your turn!
And, while I never, ever have erotic dreams, I had one a few months ago about Sarah Michelle Gellar.
Which is doubly weird, because she’s never been the Buffy cast member I’ve been especially attracted to. Why couldn’t I have an erotic dream about Eliza Dushku?
Did they put drugs in the water supply yesterday or something? I had one last night too. I was at a BBQ - pool party sort of thing, and was introducing new people to my cousin - who for some odd reason was Danny Bonaduce.
I couldn’t care less about celebrities, but a few times they have made appearances in my dreams. A week or so a ago I had a dream in which Frank Zappa was doing a free concert. I felt genuinely happy to see Frank, since in the dream I was not really aware that he was dead, just that he had been gone a long time. I thought, “Gee, this is definitely cool, and it’s not atypical of Frank to do something like this.” I can’t tell you the context, or what it could possibly mean, since Frank is someone I respect professionally but have no particular personal devotion to. Maybe it was a subliminal wish to see those who are gone, not FZ but someone else…
One time I had a dream about my dead brother where I was sitting on the curb at a shopping center and he pulled up in the car he used to drive to pick me up, and he got out saying, “It was all a mistake, that wasn’t me.” I suppose that is relatively transparent, but since it is rare for the very-logical-me to have “fantasy”-type dreams, or to dwell obsessively on people who have died, it has remained in my memory for years. (Not the only time I’ve dreamed of him, but remarkable for still being memorable twenty years later.)
I once read an unusally down-to-earth and sensible article about what your dreams might mean which suggested that celebrities who appear, if they are not significant to you IRL, are likely to be symbolic, (the question it suggested you ask yourself is “what does this person represent to me?”) and even that they are sometimes punningly literal, like Vincent Price standing in for your worries about your money sitiuation…FWIW…
Just last week. Robert Redford. I do believe we were married. We were in the bathroom, which was about the size of a football field. We were just about to get in the hot tub when I woke up. Needless to say, I have been incredibly horny since then.
Hmm.
I once had a dream about Dave Navarro. I can’t really go into details about that one, but let’s just say the details could even make jarbabyj blush.
I frequently have dreams about famous people I like that piss me off. For example, if I see someone I admire on tv, and they say or do something completely moronic, I have dreams of bumping into them and telling them off. But I guess that has more to do with the fact that I wish I could assert myself more IRL. The only example I can think of is Robert Downey, Jr. In my dream, I gave him such a verbal beating… But, again, IRL I know that wouldn’t work at all. But it was kind of fun telling him what a schmoe he is.
Celebrities appear in my dreams now and then, often after I’ve seen a movie or a concert. They’re not usually fantasy-type dreams; the celebrities tend to just turn up, like extras.
I had dream where I walked into a bar and didn’t notice until after I’d ordered a drink that Michael Stipe was the bartender. I then realized that there were some avid fans in the bar, looking out for members of R.E.M., but they hadn’t noticed him there. I looked back at him and he winked at me.
I had another one with Kevin Spacey in it after I watched “The Usual Suspects.” I only remember it very vaguely now, but it still gives me a creepy feeling.
Two nights ago. For some reason I was riding in the back of a limo when poofOprah gets in. (I don’t even watch Oprah.) She tells me I am going to be on her show today and asks me some questions while scribbling away on a note pad. Then she says she doesn’t know if she can pronounce my last name (its not a difficult one, trust me), so she is going to call me Kevin Taytay. That really pissed me off.
Madonna went down on me about 10 years ago. Her back felt funny when I ran my hands down it. It was short, only a few seconds and no it wasn’t wet. One of only 2 erotic dreams in my life. pout
90% of my dreams only contain myself. The other 10% have friends and family. Celebrities are negligible.
I once got a tattoo with Ted Danson when I was about 16. It was a rose on my ankle. He was nice enough.
I smoked pot and almost had sex with Dave Matthews a few weeks ago. I was so pissed off that I woke up.
Bette Midler wanted to kill me. She was all hunched over and twisted, like the sister in Pet Sematary, and was lurching after me. I don’t know why she wanted to kill me, but she was very scary.
Yup, Bono He was a fellow RA in my dorm, and we were sitting on the floor in our front lobby area by the mailboxes, just chilling out and talking about stuff. I don’t remember all of what we talked about, but I think we thought that it’d be a great idea to have a talent show. We also talked about how we wished that people wouldn’t put so many posters in our staff mailboxes. And then he played guitar for a litte while, and I thought the alarm clock sound effect was a little strange… but it was, in fact, my alarm clock going off. Damn it.
I had a dream three nights ago that I was having sex with…
Wait for it.
Hal Holbrook. It was awful! For goodness sakes, the man is old enough to be my grandfather! To make matters worse, as if having a sex dream about Hal Holbrook isn’t bad enough, he was terrible. He kept talking and saying things like “There it is baby!” and “Oh that’s good.” And the me in my dream was thinking it was awful and I couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Jimmy & Rosalyn Carter, giving me a ride on the limo to the place we’re all going after I get stuck on the side of the road for some reason and they notice.
Ollie North, in a station platform waiting for our train. Casual conversation, turns out we’re both amateur artists, end up comparing our sketch pads (yes, I am an amateur cartoonist).
Denise Crosby (Tasha of Star Trek TNG, but as Denise, NOT in character), at the “Green Room” before or after some public appearance. This one dream got a LOT more, erm, action-packed than Jimmy’s or Ollie’s, if you know what I mean and I think you do
In my case, plenty of female celebrities (it’s quite normal and healthy, y’know).
But one other dream sticks out, although most dopers won’t even have heard of this guy – his name’s Sir Jimmy Savile and he’s well-known in Britain. Anyway, I was in the ocean, swimming away from some sharks (the way you do), and Sir Jim happened to appear alongside me, so I partially strangled him and left him as bait for the sharks, thus facilitating my escape. If you click the link, you’ll see (and hear) why it was a good idea to kill him.
I don’t know if he qualifies as a celebrity - but I once dreamt that Anton Chekov asked me if I wanted a cigar, and when I said yes, he got it for me out of one of those things that cigar girls used to carry around in old movies (“Cigars? Cigarettes? Candy?”)
