Updated! AFG has sent over new dream 'toons for Cervaise, Fern Forest, Inigo Montoya, LeeshaJoy, Left Hand of Dorkness and rinni.
Laughed my ass off at “Corruption in the Washroom.”
Thanks a lot, Amazon Floozy Goddess. Now I’ve no ass.
laughs those are great!! the lobster car/angry midget dream was one of the funniest things I have heard in a long time, and the picture was perfect. 
I wasn’t gonna, but now I gotta see what you’ll make of this–
my recurring dream is the OP [url=]here, and I wouldn’t mind seeing Johanna’s dream illustrated too.
or, you know, here. :smack:
I mentioned I get strange dreams in hotel rooms -
Friday night, I dreamed I woke up and turned to see if my roommate was awake, and saw that she was sleeping standing up, leaning against the wall. I kept asking “what did you do with the bed?” she kept saying “what?” so I had to shout it (and I woke myself up for real doing that)
Then I fell back asleep, and dreamed that there were a dozen people in our room, and they were having a party while we tried to sleep. they were oblivious to us, even tho I kept yelling at them to get out.
I don’t know if you can illustrate this, but I did promise I’d post a dream
Rather pathetic side note: Last night I had a dream that I finally had a dream that I wanted to see 'tooned, but when I woke up I couldn’t remember it. I was really pissed. Then I woke up for real.
Suh-WEET.
The caricatures on LeeshaJoy’s are awesome.
Somehow, AFG, I’d never quite imagined Jesus doing an :rolleyes: before. Cool!
And, Hal, thanks for your continuing hosting for these.
Heh. I had some weird ones last night. In one, I was at a paintball competition that was taking place in a department store. It was confusing, though, because everyone else that was playing was the (current) student body of my old elementary school. I wasn’t assigned a team, and didn’t feel right about taking shots at ten-year-olds, but I kept running through the isles hoping to find a viable target and avoid getting splattered. There’s one! (Nope, it’s an old lady sorting socks, and boy is she pissed off.)
Then there was some kind of bomb that went off, and the military was arguing with scientific types about whether it was more or less powerful than a hydrogen bomb. The military said it was less powerful than a hydrogen bomb, because things were relatively undamaged at ground zero. The scientific types said it was more powerful than a hydrogen bomb, because it ripped apart the fabric of time and space around the perimeter of the blast. As it happens, the perimeter of the blast went right through my basement, and legions of bizarre creatures from another dimension were shambling in through a growing crack in open air. They were evil, and I knew that I had to kill them before they escaped into the world at large. The one that I remember best looked like a rubbery creature made out of two elongated Wednesday Addams, joined at the hip, and wobbling like jell-o as she walked. I hit her with a tennis racket and it went right into her and stuck midway, as the strings cut out wiggly ground-beef worms of Wednesday that crawled off of their own accord.
A couple of nights ago I dreamt that the government had put out a “bait plane” for an escaping German (What?) soldier to take. It was rigged to explode as he landed in Berlin, and was shaped just like a little airplane on a kiddy ride, although it was a very serious looking military olive colour. I got into the plane and warned him not to take it home, and so he started flying low over the streets of Vancouver. (Following the roads, like it was a car, only twenty feet off the ground or so.) I told him he was nuts, and that people were sure to report a low-flying aircraft over the roads. Now we were out in the suburbs, and he turned off onto a disused railroad track that cut through a densely forested area, and landed the plane. Concerned that the plane would be spotted by passing aircraft, I pushed it into a ravine so that it was almost vertical and covered it up with some branches.
Now the problem was that the soldier was wearing a German uniform. I told him to wait there while I went home and got a change of clothes. When I got home, though, I found all of the clothes that I had that might fit him were full of holes. I figured it was better that people think he was a bum that an enemy soldier, so I bagged them up and went back. He asked why I was helping him, and I said that I understood he wasn’t a bad person and didn’t have any choice about being in the army. He took the clothes, kissed me on the mouth (!) and disappeared.
As far as I know, that’s the only homoerotic nazi-sympathizing dream I’ve ever had.
Oddly enough, no. It doesn’t satisfy my curiousity. I’m deathly afraid I’ll have to hear/see more.
Mmmm . . . :dubious:
Thanks Hal!
Thanks you guys! Glad ya like em… 
A dream I had while getting over the flu a few months ago.
I am tied down to stakes on the floor in an otherwise empty room.
Someone is going to do something kinky to me.
The door is opened and a tiger pads its way into the room…and get this: its smoking a pipe. How did they train it to do that?
It gently lays down only a few feet away from me, filling its jowls with sweet vanilla smoke, and blowing great plumes of smoke all around, all the while having pure contentment on its face.
It lowers its face to the floor to steady the pipe bowl on the ground as it takes a large draw, and drops the pipe from its mouth as it inhales the thick smoke into its lungs with a delicious sounding hiss, holds it a moment, and exhales the smoke with a chuff from its mouth and nose.
It suddenly rises to its feet and trots over to me…
and the remote control of my dreaming mind changes the channel.
Woohoo** AFG**! Always a triumph!
I’ve been waiting to have an unmuddled dream since my operation - those pain meds tend to knock me flat. I’ve had snippets and foggy fragments, but I couldn’t remember enough of them to make a complete picture of anything.
Until this afternoon, when I took a nap.
You see, I’d gone to sleep, thinking about all the wonderful things I can eat now. I suddenly found myself dreaming the most wonderful (yet surreal) dream… I was at a restaurant, staring down at my plate, which was overflowing with delicious, delicious coconut shrimp! But… they were animated. They got up and formed a circle around my plate, and began to sing and dance. Sometimes I would remove one from the little dancing circle and eat him. They didn’t mind, and in fact, were singing strange songs about wanting to be eaten. I remember vague lyrics along the lines of: “Life is meant for celebration! Eat us to intoxication! We will satisfy your hunger with fabulous flavourful wonder!” They were happy little bastards. As for me, I was in heaven. My delicious food was serenading me. What’s not to like?
That was a good dream.
Ok - just woke from a anp and here’s one:
I was in a sequel to Shall We Dance playing opposite Richard Gere, with whom I was in love. (which IRL is so bizarre to me. He’s handsome, yeah, but beyond that doesn’t do much for me) Woody Harrelson was also in it, as a sherriff who brought us the bad news that Ashton Kutcher had been wounded and was in the hospital.
Meanwhile, Lisa Ann Walter, Jennifer Lopez, and I were comparing boob sizes and doing odd aerobics (like lying on our backs and wiggling our legs back and forth in the air), and they were giving me advice on how to win Richard away from Susan Sarandon. (Mind you, he hadn’t appeared in the movie but for the opening scene when we were returning from a dance competition we’d won)
Suddenly, everyone is gathering for Ashton’s funeral, and I’m standing outside the dance studio crying. Woody comes over to console me, thinking I’m grieving the loss of Ashton, but I tell him “no, I’m waiting for something wonderful to happen. So wonderful, in fact, that the possibility of it actually happening is completely impossible” He thinks I’m talking about Ashton coming back to life, but the audience knows what I mean.
Then these two rival gangs start a skateboard duel. Young men and skateboards are flying everywhere. The camera slowly zooms in, thru the action, on the background as a figure makes his way thru the gathered crowd. It becomes evident that it’s Richard, finally coming to me. The music swells as he gets closer and I wake up just before he hugs me.
Very weird.
I tend to have really fun dreams. What’s more, they tend to happen in the same dream-places. The City of Dreams has a definite layout that doesn’t change much from dream to dream, but it is no real city I’ve ever been to.
So for example… one night I dreamt I was running along the rooftops of the old Catholic school I used to go to, but it was entirely different – very old and spiky and gothic and, well, Gotham Cityish. I was chasing/hunting vampires up there.
Down the street from this old school is a very brightly lit bathhouse decorated in white marble and gold leaf. One of the attendants is a very handsome Hispanic fellow I knew years ago. I have no idea why. He doesn’t really seem the bathhouse type.
Across the street from the bathhouse is a gigantic old theater. Somewhere up a forgotten staircase there is a series of dusty and forgotten tunnels that lead, eventually, to a vault of fabulous treasure. I hasten to continue that I had this dream years before National Treasure came out. I believe there’s also tunnels there to the bathhouse.
Once I was wandering the night streets (this is all downtown with lots of high buildings, and it is always night there) and I paused at a little outdoor bookstand, the sort that has those long tables with the books stacked spine-up and held on the table by bookends. I was scanning through them and picked up a few I wanted to buy but I couldn’t find the stall owner. I asked someone nearby who the owner was and they said “I don’t know, but Sting can sell you the books. He should be back in a moment.” On cue, Sting walked up and sold me the books. We chatted briefly about his solo work after The Police and I walked on.
Much more recently I ended up in this dream city again. Apparently it’s in Canada, because I knew that last night when I was there. I had gone to visit for a few days and went back to the airport, hunting for the right terminal only to realize that I had missed my flight – the day before. Confused as to how I was going to get back home, I called up the friend I’d gone to visit but she wasn’t home. I managed to get in touch with some of her friends, and they seemed to know where she was. We hopped on some very low-to-the-ground scooters and tooled off among the very tall buildings. Some of them, amusingly enough, remind me of a few of the moderate-level zones of City of Heroes – what’s the name of that city zone where you first find the Tsoo? That one, only at night. There was no traffic, only a few people out, and we swooped left into a paved courtyard before we pulled up in front of a steely-grey building with gigantic windows that went up two or three stories. Behind these windows were brightly-colored anime-style toys and posters and the like, and I had the impression that further into this courtyard was a similarly styled midway.
On the edge of this city is my old house from Mississippi, only about twice the size – a really lovely mansion in my dreams, on the edge of the forest. There are several tracks going through there to all sorts of places; I have the impression you can get to any fantasy realm that takes your fancy if you go along the right path. One leads to a rather unusual tower. From the outside it looks very medieval-fantasy, but if you open the door in just the right way it shows you a staircase down into a very 70s-style home. Everything is rather orangeish and covered in shag carpeting, and the person down there is a rather cluttered packrat. They also don’t much like guests, so unless you know just the right way to open the door you aren’t going to meet him.
One of my few dreams to take place in the daytime I had the night I saw V for Vendetta. In it, I had just discovered that for some reason the Government (with a big G no less) was after me and my parents. My mother was working downtown in the same building she worked in when I was a very small girl, and while the entire world looked very early-80s in style, the technology was super-advanced in a manner reminiscent of the movie I, Robot. My father and I managed to sneak into the building and get her out, but people started shooting at us in the underground parking garage and we had to run and run. I think I was about 15 in this dream.
Um… if any of those take your fancy you’re welcome to 'em.
Ha! These are fun, AFG.
I dreamt the other night that I was on a quest to eat breakfast at every McDonald’s in the country. At some McD’s in Pennsylvania, two orthodox Jews ;j ;j accused me of anti-Semitism. We talked it out, and everything was OK. I left McD’s with breakfast in hand.
Cool. Thank you very much, both of you. I wish … (actually I don’t wish) I had better stuff for you to work with.
My favorite is the baboon. All my favorite Far Sides were ones just before everything was about to go very wrong. Looking at that baboon I know things are about to go very, very wrong.
AHAHAHA! Thanks for doing mine! “Bob” is adorable! cough
Perhaps… too adorable…
prints off picture and places under pillow