Here is my brain dump from the last little while:

• Buckethead is an interesting fellow.  He releases something silly like 5-10 albums a year.  Granted, they all start to run together after a while, but it’s still infinitely better than listening to the radio.  It’s as though he has only 5 albums to date, but they each have 276 songs apiece, and were each released slowly and simultaneously over a 20 year span.  Tonight I’m cooking a chicken and as it cooks, I’m trying to decide how I’m going to deal with the cooked bird after it’s done.  As always, a beverage and some music while I go into Zen-cooking-activity mode and I thought, “Why not Buckethead for repentance  and inspiration?”  And I made it so.
• Speaking of “making it so”.  Here’s some of the funniest stuff I’ve ever seen in a LONG time.  “Happy in Paraguay”.  What some folks do in their spare time.  I love teh internets!
• Today the Seahawks played at home.  I had planned on riding down to the general area of the stadium and meeting up with a couple buddies down there.  However, it was pretty cold and I didn’t want to have to deal with ice anywhere on my bike, so I decided against that.  Normally, it’d be a done deal and who cares, right?  Right, but in addition to that, I’d already made plans with my buddy and he was going to bring a GPS unit for me to borrow, and at that point Project GPS was Go Mission and I was obligated to get there somehow.  As it happened, I ended up driving down in my girlfriend’s rig and retrieving the unit.  She had to get to work still, so I was kinda wondering the best way to get to the freeway from over by the two stadiums, because hey, I ride a bike usually, I don’t know about traffic.  Not only traffic, but during a ballgame and in a section of town I usually don’t party in?  Oh great…this will be fun.  And then it dawned on me.  Uhhhhh….you just picked up a GPS unit from a friend.  Uhhhhh….USE IT!  OH YEAH, that would be AWESOME!  Whew…disaster averted!
• I had strange dreams last night.
  • At one point, I was in the Anchorage airport and I couldn’t find my bags.  I remember in my dream thinking REALLY hard, “Do I have just one bag, or two and what the hell do they look like?”  Needless to say I had a hard time trying to locate my luggage.
  • Another time, I was in the woods.  The woods were very like Juneau, wet and mossy and temperate rainforesty…  I stop in the trail because a full on Fuck-you-I’m-from-Africa lion is running like hell to save its life through the woods across the trail right in front of me.  WTF!  Flash to me and Veronica kinda jogging through a clearing in the woods, trying to get away from something or to some specific place and we are in a hurry, but we’re tired so instead of sprinting we are more like loping along.  Oh yeah, and it’s winter.  I don’t know where our destination was, but we went into the base of a huge tree that had fallen over  toward a cliff face and the inside of it was hollowed out, and we were going to use that as a way to climb up to the top of the cliff and keep going.  In typical Hollywood style, as I boosted Veronica up into the inside of the log/tree, I looked back and about 100 or so yards back, here comes this damn lion and he’s on our trail.  And it’s winter.  He’s a damn lion.  In AK.
  • At another point, Veronica, and I were at a Burger King inside an airport or a mall or something like that.  I was hungry and she wasn’t, so I ate while she used the waterslide that he had at our table.  For our exclusive use.  I think each table had its own waterslide.  Hmmmm…
• My buddy Dave had to put his dog down last month.  That was a bummer.  Pimba was a red heeler, and as such, she was a really intelligent dog to the point of being a pain in the ass.  She thought for herself and if you told her something she didn’t like, she would growl at you and let you know she thought you were full of shit.  Anyway, she’s now taking a dirt nap and we all miss her.
• I’m getting tired of basting that chicken, but only because I don’t have the squirty baster thingy.  I’m having to use a ladle and tilt the pan and all that, so I’m whining a bit.
• Dave also went to Australia and New Zealand last month.  It was my job to make sure his bunny and his cat were fed and dealt with appropriately.  That was weird, since Pimba wasn’t there, being a pain and nipping at the kitty at every chance.  The point here is that while he was gone, I had his car.  In the 2 weeks he was gone, the weather went from coldish and wettish to Frozen Nuggets in Spandex!  I rode my bike in to work for the first time in two weeks last Friday and I thought they were going to fall off and shatter in the shoulder of the road.

Okay then, I’ll post more and oftener and I’ll post a post about that very thing here tomorrow.

Remember:  Happy little trees!

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I had a dream about Eric last night.

My mom and I were visiting with Tim (Eric’s father) in his hotel room.  We were going to go get dinner somewhere.  Tim showed me an album with a bunch of pictures of Eric in it, and in there I saw this movie clip.

Eric and I were in a train yard or something and we were sneaking from one train car to the next.  Whatever we were doing, we weren’t supposed to be there.  At one point, we saw a tank car that was boiling over with crude oil, or something else that was highly flammable.  No, it was explosive.  At any rate, Eric turned to me and said something like, “Watch this!” and he pulled a grenade out of his pocket.  I started to protest….”Hey dude, that’s not a good idea” when he pulled the pin and threw the grenade right into the center of the spouting column coming out of the tanker and we RAN!!!!

Next thing I know I’m looking at Eric and there are small chunks of molten lava raining down around us.

And that’s all I remember.

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More funny crap found on the web.

(source: youtube)

Thanks Whit, for showing me that one. I get tears in my eyes from laughing at poor old Sparky.

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In the last couple weeks, I’ve fallen asleep with the TV on a number of times. This makes for some strange dreams.

Last night I dreamt that Dean and I were at the bike shop when an emergency arose. I’m talking National Emergency, like call the military or get the NSA or somebody involved kind of emergency. Well, the van was parked way over in Kirkland about 10 miles away, so me and the other guy tore off on our road bikes and got to the van asap so that we could get to the jets and take care of whatever threat we were on alert for. Okay, that makes sense. In Dreamland that makes sense. Well, not too much later on, we got another call and everything was the same except that this time I was running instead of on my bike and since the other guy still had to get to Kirkland and fast, well he took off and I waited for him where I was. Now here’s where logic starts to buckle a little bit. Everything in the scenario was identical, that we had to get to the van that was parked a ways off so that we could drive to the jets and crush the enemy. The thing is that when the other guy left me and I waited for him, I went to a parking spot right nearby where the van was parked and I had to decide (because I didn’t have my bicycle with me) which baby trailer I was going to hook up to the bumper of the van. I couldn’t decide between the blue and yellow one (which has a superior attaching mechanism) or the plain blue one (which looked like it might last longer in a combat situation). Oh yeah, and the other guy? He wasn’t anybody I’d met before, he was just some 6ft Asian dude who must have been my partner. I know that I didn’t know him at all, but in the dream it was just understood that he had my back and I had his. Done! [More]

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I remember that I had a strange dream last night.

I dreamt that Zeno and I were riding our bikes around the neighborhood. This neighborhood was a cross between somewhere in Juneau and somewhere in South Seattle. We decided that we were gonna go to a bar nearby and so we did. The bar ended up looking a lot like Velo Bike Shop, as far as the layout was concerned.

So we were in there for a little while, playing pinball and having beers, when we decided it was time to leave. On our way out, I notice something weird was going on with my non-driveside crankarm. It felt like it was loose and it was clunking around on each pedal stroke. The weird thing was that I knew I had one-piece cranks, so that should have been impossible. But it’s Dreamland, so anything goes. So I looked down to see what was happening when I realized that I was on somebody else’s bike and HOLY SHIT, we gotta go back and get my bike dude! I then realized that I’d left my vest and backpack at the bar too. Oh man, I hope they haven’t been swiped!!!

So Zeno and I headed back to the bar to retrieve my stuff, and here’s where the full Dreamland stuff kicks in. I knew I needed to go back to the bar and swap out this weird, crappy bike for mine and get my pack and vest, so here’s how that took place in my dream.

All of a sudden I was in a truck, trying to back it into the driveway that was next to some house. There were cars parked all over the place and it was a tight fit, and I was trying to get parked so that I could sneak into the house and get my stuff, and then sneak back out and leave without alerting anybody inside to my presence. I knew the main entrance to the house was open, and whoever was inside (the folks that I didn’t want to talk to or interact with for whatever reason, even though they were either family members or tight friends of mine) was watching TV, so I was being extra very quiet…

But the dog knew I was there and started to whine and wag its tail and was generally getting all excited that I was there, thus jeopardizing my mission. In my dream, the dog was Pimba (a buddy’s dog in real-life), but it wasn’t the same breed. Pimba is an Australian Cattle dog and this was a big furry Husky/mutt mix that was shedding a LOT of fur after the winter. But it was still Pimba, and dammit, she was gonna give me away! So there I am, trying to stealth-park the truck while she’s whining and trying to jump into my lap in the cab and shit just ain’t working.

And that’s how it works in my dreams quite often. Much metaphor going on… Somehow the action of backing a truck into a driveway and sneaking my backpack out of the house while folks are watching TV is a parallel for me getting back to the bar and retrieving my bicycle and my backpack. AND my precious vest that says ‘Chewy’ on it.

I don’t understand it any better than you do.

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