Intermission #1: Irreality intrudes

[muckefuck]

Sunday night, I had bourbon and dreamt of having sex. Last night, I stuck to gin and dreamt of French postmodern philosophy texts. I had one that was printed on a fruit. I had to eat off about a quarter-inch of fleshy pulp to expose the writing, which wrapped all the way around; it seemed familiar and I thought Didn't I already read this and find it all a load of hooey? It wasn't exactly a nightmare, but, lord, it was no sex dream either!

This morning, one of my co-workers dropped three rush books in Arabic on my desk since I'm the only one who can even fake it. aadroma, do you want to come over and tell me what the hell they say?

Comments

[aadroma.livejournal.com]

:: chuckles :: Erm, I can TRY ^o^ If nothing else, you can at least get a decent transcription ...

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

I finally figured out that one of the authors is named Jār al-Nabī Hulm or "Refugee in the Prophet Sweet". I'm still not sure if I have the title correct, though.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Damnit, Ħulw, not *Hulm. (Same root as in halwa.)

[nitouche.livejournal.com]

There's a website where someone draws quite a lovely comic strip based on dreams people submit -- my favourite's one where some guy starts choking and coughs up his cat, which then looks at him and says, "guess I owe you $5." Wish I could remember the url...

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

This is sounding familiar, but I'd never trust anyone else to illustrate this one. I'm not sure even I could get the look right. Imagine a baseball-sized fruit with a skin like a hairless kiwi. No, that's misleading. Argh!

[nitouche.livejournal.com]

Peter once dreamt that he had to swim across the Hudson River with a box of matzohs, which he then had to deliver to Don King. No more pickles at bedtime for *him*.

I once dreamt that I was at work, inputting a vast number of orders. I realized I was dreaming and thought "this is stupid -- all of this work is a waste of time." But then I thought, "No, it's ok, I'll just port it over to the real-world operating system when I wake up" and kept going. Urgh.

I might rather be eating French post-modernist fruit.