I had my strangest dream ever this morning. I may never top it. I was in the process of typing it all out as a narrative when I realized how completely insane it sounded. Cast of characters included yours truly, two friends-with-no-benefits, Mario Batali, the staff of Miami Sky Dive, a horde of pretentious violent meth-heads who gradually transformed into zombies the more of them I fought, a plate of gnocchi in gorgonzola cream sauce, a rottweiler, and Bruce Willis circa Die Hard 4.
There was barbed wire, an explosion, and I was naked, alot. I killed dozens of zombies, mostly with my letter opener.
If it makes you feel better I had a dream that my dad turned into a shark and I couldn’t get the aquarium to release him. They didn’t believe that he was my dad.
No. Anyway, they didn’t start as zombies. That’s constant theme in my dreams. I’ll be fighting a horde of something, and my initially effective attacks will become ineffective the more zombified the opposition becomes.
Like once I was the leader of a strike team sent to take out an army of Anthony Hopkins clones…but after awhile the clones became eight-foot tall Anthony Hopkins frankenstein zombies all wearing cable knit sweaters and wrap-around sunglasses, and our guns would only shoot streams of that liquid paper stuff.
Anyway, in the dream this morning the horde was initially a group of post-apocalyptic methheads who were pissed because I got tangled in their barbed wire, then killed their dog and some of them with a bomb trying to escape. Once I got into a nearby house and found Bruce Willis willing to help me fight them off, they started zombifying.
Bruce was scouting ahead for a way out when he got eaten by something. All I found was blood all over the place. The horde started de-zombifying and we were in the process of negotiating a deal to join forces and take out whatever got Bruce when I woke up.
Ah, Mario Batali’s Zombie Brain Stew recipe. (For carnivores only).
Ingredients:
1 bushel of meth-heads
40 lbs Rottweiler meat
1 plate of gnocchi
1 clove of Bruce Willis
1 vat gorgonzola cream sauce
Defrost meth-heads (if they are frozen) and allow them to ripen until they are zombies. You can tell they have ripened to zombie goodness when their skin gets ashen and saggy and they start to smell worse than when you got them.
Use explosion to separate Rottweiler into “small pieces” of dogmeat (note remove all clothing, this is best done naked to avoid stains on clothing). Add gnocchi and whip vigorously into a paste with barbed wire (mind the barbed wire around your naked bits).
Pry open zombie skulls with letter opener and remove brains. Strain brains to remove excess fluid using parachute. (You may need help from Sky Dive staff as full-sized parachutes are difficult to manage in the kitchen.)
Ask friends to butcher Bruce Willis. NOTE: Bruce Willis tends to resist butchering, so it’s recommended to use more than one friend (and the expendable benefitless kind in case someone gets injured and killed you won’t lose out on any nookie. The survivor can share the stew.) Add to gnocchi-rottweiler paste, cook on medium-high for half an hour or until Bruce Willis looks tender.
Throw in zombie brains and simmer on low for 20 minutes. Serve on pasta with gorgonzola cream sauce.
I have to tell you, he wouldn’t be missed. While initially comforting as an ally against the meth zombie assault, I was not impressed by Bruce’s combat performance. Seriously, what’s this “I’ll scout ahead” shit? Granted, we were moving backwards through a series of dark hallways. Granted, only one person could really fight effectively in that confined space using a letter opener and pistol combination. But on the basis of reputation, maybe that person should have been Bruce and not me.
And then he just went and got slaughtered by something, which didn’t do anyone any good at all. Next time around I’m going to dream someone else to get my back.
last night my dream was that I was a sniper in a war - ala Mark Walberg in Shooter. At one point I lost my gun and had to resort to hand-to-hand with knives. Also there was a lot of buildings falling and I stopped to wonder if Godzilla were near.
(note to self - in the future, dream *more *about Kate Mara and less about killing.)
I read Part I of I Am Legend before falling asleep last night, a fair bit of which was about Robert Neville developing various methods of hunting and killing vampires in torpor during the daytime and then disposing of the bodies. I dreamt that I plus a (real-life) retired Nazi-hunter friend and two fictional people were driving a truck around and killing something (vampires? zombies? Nazis? I don’t know) and disposing of it in a super-secret fashion. For some reason, we ended up in college dorms and hotels a lot during the course of this work. Most of our trickery revolved around convincing the RAs/hotel staff that we weren’t dragging dead bodies about and doing secret, violent things in their areas. We almost got caught once when we came back to our hotel room with a body while hotel managers were doing something official there (unrelated to our little team effort). The Nazi hunter smooth-talked our way out of that one somehow. The dream ended pretty shortly thereafter.
Sounds like you need to anticipate this and arm yourself with anti-zombie weaponry in your dreams. Flamethrowers, machetes, shotguns, even screwdrivers.
This is all reminding me of a fantastic French movie from last year called The Science of Sleep, especially the guns turning ineffective and the dream recipe. OP, have you seen it? You should. I think it’ll be right up your alley.
Now that you’ve got me thinking about it, I think I’m gonna go watch it.
IMHO, dreams always always always relate the something that happened in your life that day. It could just be a passing thought, but your brain is putting things in order while you sleep.
That list of items obviously came into your consciousness the day before. Maybe just a quick thought, but they were there.
Just over a year ago, I moved into a house and got a B&W map of the neighborhood from the Homeowners Association, with the foreboding “PLAN YOUR ESCAPE!” printed on top. Before I got a chance to see it, my helpful roommate added a clarification that looked something like this.
I’d guess that you have some serious difficulties in your life, possibly related to your work (or sex), you are afraid, and no matter how much you struggle, you just can’t seem to make the problems go away. Even when you think that you’ve solved them, they keep coming back (the zombie thing).
Did you get some help for your problems that you thought would be sure-fire, but didn’t work out? Is there a chance that some of the people who are causing problems for you might become your allies against bigger problems?
If you ask me, using a letter opener as an IZDD (Improvised Zombie Defense Device) demonstrates ingenuity and quick wit. Stephen from the original Dawn of the Dead would be proud.
