Thursday, December 01, 2005

Well, We Got the Timebomb Without Torture

..but now what do we do with it? Please continue to show your love of this feature with no comments.

It's not clear what's going on, but Sinead O'Connor and I discover a ticking timebomb. There is no evidence that torture was used to discover said bomb. Also, no evidence for why Sinead is there in the first place. She's not very talkative. I don't remember her saying anything actually. It is clear that she is conveying information with meaningful doe-eyed glances. What is conveyed is this: the bomb must be transported to somewhere, somewhere supposedly safer. Now for some reason the bomb is dangerous to move, but we put it in a special backpack that insulates it from shock and now I'm supposed to jog with it across town. [ed. Sinead just came on the radio RIGHT NOW, not in the dream, in reality- weird!!, "Jump in the River"- probably the non-Karen Finley version, sad] Anyhow, the dream turns into one where I'm just running and it feels so good. Like where you feel like you are getting exercise but just hitting that runner's high. This is a depressing sort of dream for me because I never exercise and am out of shape, and probably can't even make it through Underworld's "Cowgirl" (8:57) on the treadmill. I'm not sure what Sinead was doing but she was supportive, and I just felt so motivated and unburdened even though I was wearing some sort of Unabomber Jansport Sportsac.

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Jack Black up to No Good

This one makes no sense.

So I'm at summer camp, well day camp at the old Salt Lake City JCC. I wouldn't be surprised if Bobby Lightfoot were my counselor at some point, because we had some weird, awesome dudes working there. Anyway, we're out on the patio next to the gym, and you can look down to the pool. Ah, how many millions of kids peed in that pool (nobody tell Jedmunds, now that he's a Pandagon munchwagon)? Anyway, there are all these tables set up on the patio because it is a big lunch thing and everyone is out there. I couldn't tell if people were drinking the orange death or not, but that is another story. And Jack Black is there. He's kind of running around doing his manic, sweaty thing. People are laughing. He kind of is playing along, but there was the sense that he was getting pissed off and is possibly going to swing into a massively inappropriate Tenacious D type skit- one of the seriously gross ones from the DVD about --- -guzzling etc. and I am definitely worried. BUT, I am following him around with a microphone whispering into the mic with it really close to my mouth creating that hushed, breathy golf-announcer like sound. I'm describing to the crowd his feverish doings as he's jumping around the outside of the patio- like when he mutters to himself "I have a plan", I say into the mic "*I HAVE A PLAN*" in hushed tones and everyone laughs because they think it is going to be something funny and I'm nervous it won't be, and that I might be driving him over the edge, but hey, don't give me the mic if you're not gonna be responsible.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

The Trials and Tribulations of the Rap Game

Yosef, thycwoti shares with us a hip hop underworld, in his dream (totally real, I have been assured of its veracity- Ed- seriously).

Here I am, in a clothing store dressing room (Ed.- Gap? Structure? Jeans West?), hanging out with Busta Rhymes and Missy Elliott (Ed.-awesome, I wish Luda were there too). Why you ask? Because we're on a mission to invent the first ever "rap" song. This rap thing is going to be like spoken word poetry over music, but a little bit funkier and closer to the streets. I know, it sounds weird - who would ever buy a record where people don't sing, but instead they talk? What the hell kind of music is that? Well, it's not your everyday Nat King Cole, but trust me on this one, it's going to work. The only problem is, we can't figure out anything that sounds good. I suggest starting it off "Hip hop, hippity to tha hip hip hop..." but Busta Bust and Missy disagree with me. It goes on like that for a while, then right before I wake up, it turns out some other group beat us to the punch - but they stole my opening line!!!(Ed.- bastards, the rap game ain't for thycwoti).

Sunday, October 09, 2005

Beef on the Brain

This one's mine. Let the slings and arrows fly, cobags.

So this dream feels like I'm watching a film, there is a cinematic, dusty Western feel. I'm not in it. Paul Newman, or the Paul Newman-played character is in a Cool Hand Luke type sitch, the man totally has him down. He's working at some weird ski resort, except there is no snow anywhere. He has this horrible job of Sisyphean proportions. His job is as the sole staffer of the midslope cafe, which is more like a dusty wooden shack. They have one thing on the menu. This roast beef sandwich, which in the dream was clearly akin to a French Dip, not an Italian Beef. It clearly was delicious. In the dream it was called "Beef on Weck" (I know it is a real sandwich, but this wasn't it, clearly a red herring). Anyway, he's gotta to slice the beef, toast the bun, heat up the au jus and prepare a side of horseradish, and get everything together, except they never have all the items in his little hut, and the customers are really irate. He gets halfway through making one, and then he has to run down the slope and get another bun, or more au jus, etc. So he has two sandwiches made and ready to go, but needs to get one more thing, and some customer that didn't even order walks up and takes them off the counter saying "oooh, yummy sandwiches" or something like that, and he gets back, and some lady who ordered them is yelling at him about her sandwiches. Then his boss comes up and yells at him about how he's never going to work off his debt because he can't even make a goddamned sandwich right. At this point he's totally had enough. So Paul Newman just starts rolling these oil drums from the back of the shack down the hill towards the other buildings, and somehow they just start exploding everywhere and it's a little bit like the end of Apocalypse Now. He then goes into one of the buildings for some reason, and Marcia Cross, a la Kimberly from Melrose Place or whoever from Desperate Housewives (Bree?), is in there looking her most Kimberly (i.e. totally psychotic). She just says with that weird blink-less look "I love to watch things burn" as the building is going up like a blowtorch. At this point even having the dream I was all what the f***? Maybe I was worried about the sandwiches burning up.

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Jay Leno Is a Rat Bastard

No, Jay, thank you, thank you for nothing!

From Fulsome:

When I was flying out to Minneapolis, prior to the events that unfolded at the "three rules" post, I dreamt of the reception. Everything was fine, we were sitting at the table and chatting and telling stories. Being a reception, there was free alcohol but I was trapped in the middle of the table and so reliant on others to bring drinks when they got up to get one for themselves. By some unforseen chance, Jay Leno was at the reception. The why and wherefores of this are pretty inconclusive. At any rate, he's at the table. No big deal we're all talking and carousing. But the man won't get up to get a drink. And I'm wedged in the table towards the wall and between some girls and so I'm not really getting up. And I'm giving him looks and then the evil eye trying to convince him by whatever non-verbal means necessary to get up and get some drinks. And he wouldn't do it. The rat bastard wouldn't do it

...And then I get woken up by the flight attendent who asks what I want to drink [thank G-d, it's always tough to fly to Mn.-ed.]

Three Bulls! would like to directly challenge Jay Leno to defend himself from this dishonorable behavior. We will have him on the clock from this moment. His silence will indicate cowardly traitorousness and total cobaggery.

T+1 minute: Crickets chirping.

T+2 minutes: Yet more crickets.

T+3 minutes: Indeed.


Thursday, September 15, 2005

Thank You Oprah, for All This Wonderful Money!

Why I Heart Oprah by Geenie Cola

I find myself in the intense finals of an academic bowl. It's
unclear as to if it is the US Finals or the World. I'm guessing it is the Universe finals since Oprah was there. Anyhoo, It is me, Jung-Gun (my friend from work), Craig (my friend from grad school) and Jenny (random girl from high school that I really didn't even know) we are all on the academic bowl team together. It is really intense because it is the final question and as long as we answer this one correctly we WIN! WIN! WIN! Oprah being the host and judge of the competition asks the question...we all submit our answers. There is a long pause as Oprah says, there is a problem. It seems that Jenny's answer is unclear and Oprah can't rule as to if it is correct or not. No wonder I wasn't really friends with her in H.S., idiot! Oprah needs time to think it over. Crap, NOOOOO, because the winners get $200million as the prize-that is $50 million each! I say to my team, because of course I'm the team captain, "I'm going to go talk to Oprah." I'm standing in front of Oprah pleading our case and explaining that in fact Jenny's answer is clear and correct. Oprah says she will have her decision in the morning. My whole team is on edge and can't sleep. It's morning and the phone's Oprah. Jung-Gun answers the phone, listens. then hangs up. We are all DYING to know what she said. He says we won. We are all stunned and hugging when Jung-Gun elbows me in the face super hard. I'm thinking what the?!?!?! This is when I wake up and realize no it is just Pinko Punko doing his signature sleep move of elbowing me in the head. Sadly, no $50 million.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Why I Stopped Reading Geenie Cola's People Magazine

Can't you just see the heartache in their faces?

Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears

So there was this three story townhouse (totally cute!). I lived on the top floor, and my good friend had the bottom two floors. She was my pal. She came up for advice and stuff, you know. She was a total babe, but I was older and I wasn't into her that way. I just wanted to be friends. She also happened to be Britney Spears. So she started going out with JT and he was way cool and we would hang out the three of us and stuff, then I got to be friends with JT and we were pretty good pals, and we would do undefined guy stuff. It wasn't clear what it was but it was clear we hung out and stuff. Then he told me that it just wasn't working out with Britney, and he wanted to be friends, but he wanted to end it, so as not to hurt her. She was my pal too, but I had been watching them grow apart so I knew it had to be that way. She was really upset, but deep down she knew it had to be that way, and I tried to console her. She said I was a good friend and she didn't want me to be caught in the middle and she said I could still be friends with JT, but I should keep it on the down low a little bit because it was hard for her.

WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?? NO MORE PEOPLE FOR PINKO, THAT'S FOR EFFING SURE. Also, we never quite covered the "Cry Me A River" video, but I'm sure it would have been all good, because everyone was so understanding.