Last night I had what the French call Les horrible fucking dreams.  I've actually been up for quite a while now because the last one made me laugh out loud and I couldn't get back to sleep (it was scary, but a funny twist I guess).  In the first one, I was on this train, but not for long.  It stopped at this really old and decrepit train station that was like half falling apart.  I went down this open-air steel girdered stairway that went over a river.  The problem was that the stairs were all blocked off at the other end of the river and I had to go back to the train station on the other side.  Unfortunately, I had sorta jumped down to this other level on the way and it was impossible to get back to the original level that led to the station.  So this guy who was up on top of the stair-bridge told me to hang onto this crane-arm thing and he would swing me over to the station.  So, I grabbed on and this guy seemed like he was either drunk or otherwise totally incapable of operating heavy machinery.  He kept swinging me all over the place and I wasn't getting anywhere near the station.  Anyways, mid-swing one time I sorta felt the crane break because I was still holding on, but it wasn't forcing me anywhere...we were just falling at the same time.  Then I hit the water and I remember thinking how un-wet it was.  Then I got scared because I remembered that people can't live for very long in cold water.  Then I woke up.

The second I fell back to sleep, I had another horrible fucking dream.  This one I shoulda seen coming based on how it started.  Basically, I was going for some kind of ultralight homemade helicopter ride with my mom and my buddy Jay.  It was really pretty sketchy because it was all open-air with no real cockpit.  Just seats and a rotor sorta.  Jay was driving.  This dream just started off with all the hallmarks of a good nightmare.  Anyways, Jay was flying this stupid contraption and at first it was cool because he went up really high and we could see Foxwoods all lit up and it was nice.  Then, after reaching this crazy altitude, he dips it to go forwards and it loses altitude rapidly, but accelerates like whoa.  So we get really low and Jay has to be a jerk and try to clip the tops of the trees with his stupid helicopter.  After getting really close to a few, he snags one (by accident?) and the chopper goes down.  Now Jay, my mom and I are on the side of this mountain in the woods.  We ran down this really steep slope and then I saw something move like a few feet away.  It was a giant frickin' snake.  Huge.  It went up the mountain and left us alone.  Then, we crossed this small stream and started up the next slope.  Then another giant snake, except this one comes right for us!  I remember thinking, "I wish Samuel L. Jackson was here."  I woke up right before the snake got to me.  Then I thought, "God Ryan, you are a total fucking idiot."  Then I couldn't stop laughing and I was wide awake for good.  Fin.

Yeah, remember that post about going to the Yankees game?  It didn't quite turn out as expected.  Actually, it totally sucked.  Rainout.  We were sitting in the stadium at our seats with beers in hand and then after like 10 minutes they announced there would be no game and our tickets are good for Sunday's afternoon make-up game.  I don't think I can afford another city excursion.

I take a drink, sit back and relax...what I want is what I've not got.  If you could keep me floating, just for a while.  Sometimes it takes a Jimi thang', just to keep me swinging!  Lately I've been feeling low...been looking for what I'm looking for. 

So, yeah.  Life's been good like 'oh no'.  I'm pretty amazed by how fast I can type.  I don't even think about it now; I just tpye.  It's reallly cool to listen to somebody type when they aren't paying attention.  It's like looking into their subconscious in a way because they don't really think about what they are physically doing.  They just think about the thoughts going through their mind.  I'm sorta doing that now too, listening to myself type.  It's very soothing.  Soooooothe....

Holy CRAP!!!!  HOLY CRAP!!!  I can barely contain myself!  I don't think my skin was designed to contain this amount of unabated exuberance.  I'm smiling like I'm mentally challenged and someone is blowing bubbles at me. 

I don't even know how to write this and I fault the English language for its utter lack of a sufficient superlatives. 

Alright, here goes.  Friday night.  Yankee Stadium.  Me.  Silberman.  Jay.  Red Sox.  Free tickets.

We got free tickets to the Yankees/Red Sox game!  That's right bitches!  The fact that they're free is of minor significance....it's the goddam Yankees/Red Sox!  Holy crap!  HOLY CRAP!  If I'm not mistaken, Friday will be Jaret Wright, which is pretty much the only fault I can think of...but hopefully I'm wrong on that (but I'm not.  I know this rotation too well.)  Jesus, Mary and Abe Vigoda!  WOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!

Hello!!!  Hello...Hello...Hello...Hello.  Anybody out there?  I want to take a minute to offer my condolences to all the Red Sox fans out there.  It must be hard to go down this hard after talking so much shit all season long.  You may want to purchase the 'trucker' style cap next year, as they seem like they would be easier to digest.

So, what else is new.  I picked up a full size ironing board, which I'm pretty happy about.  I've been doing my laundry on the floor and my back gets really sore.  Now I can do it standing up.  Ummmm...let's see...I had a weird dream last night that I was in Battlefield 1942 and I snuck up on some guy and put a grenade into his back pocket.  That was cool.  His ass blew into a million pieces.  I always get scared as hell when I have Battlefield dreams.  I'm really torn though, because I freakin' love this game and I've been playing online with my buddy Jay...but I get these horrible nightmares from it where I'm a soldier and people are trying to kill me.  I don't like that part.  The air raids are the worst because there is no cover and you can't tell where the planes are at night.  Just explosions everywhere and meanwhile I'm trying to organize some kind of massive assault without crapping my pants.  I think its strange that I have a relatively low-stress day (usually) and then once I get to sleep, I go into a total state of panic.  I have to stop playing that game I think (but I won't). 

Have you found your copy yet, Joe?  You should meet up with us.  We've been playing the Battle of Britian a lot lately.  I think I want to switch to the German side though because I have a feeling that these scary air-raid dreams are a direct result of joining the Brits.  Maybe if I was a Kraut I wouldn't have the 'getting bombed' dream. 

I bet being of fire has to be one of the scariest things you could do.  Obviously, I'm not talking about the stupid stuntman fire-suit scenario either...that's probably less scary than eating ice cream.  I mean the real deal lit on fire where your shirt melts to you skin and then they both melt off your sizzling muscle tissue.  Man, that's scary.

I think I need more time.  It would be a whole lot cooler if the planet spun just a little bit slower.  We do have a pretty kick-ass planet though.  When you see it from outerspace, it looks awesome.  It really ties the whole solar system together.  Some of the other planets look pretty decent, but we got a cool blue one with swirly clouds and stuff.  Maybe I just think its nice because we live here though.  Lots of times, I notice that people seem to like the stuff that they have, but I have the sneaking suspicion that if they didn't have it and saw someone else with it, they would totally hate on it.  I suspect a lot of bad things about people.  I'm pretty sure I can read people's minds and I'm not very pleased with what I'm reading.  I'm not very pleased with what I'm reading in real life as well (Fire in Afghanistan: Faith, Hope and the British Empire 1914-1929).  It's alright I suppose, but I have a hard time keeping all these weirdo Afghani names in my head.  I find it hard to read books about people/places with names I'm not familair with.  They all just sorta blend together.  I think we need to get a blender too.  My dad taught me how to make some kind of awesome blenderized drink.  First, he takes a bunch of fruits and puts them in the freezer.  When they're frozen real good, he puts them in the blender with some juice I think.  He says its better with frozen fruit instead of ice and normal fruit because the ice waters it down.  I have to agree. 

I was just thinking about crying.  I think it's pretty dumb that water has to come out of my eyes when certain things happen.  It always happens at stupid times too.  Some people cry at funerals or whatever and that's fine and normal, but I don't get that.  No, I get stupid crying time.  Take today, for instance.  I was sitting here watching the Yankees game and during one of the commercials they did this Yankees montage of great things in Yankees history.  When they showed the clip of Aaron Boone hitting the game winning homerun in the 2003 ALCS and him breaking into that homerun trot with his arms extended, a little tear formed.  I was like, "What the fuck dude!  Don't do this!  Not now!  Oh crap, what is your problem.  Crap.  I hope Jay doesn't look over here."  It was a fucking commercial!  A montage no less! 

I was at Walgreens today and some girl caught me practice making-out with my arm.  I gave her a look that prettty much said, "You want some of this?".  She gave me a look that said, "Thanks, but no thanks."  Then I went to get the razors I needed but they were all locked up behind plexiglass.  I was going to give up and get them somewhere else and this kid that worked the register in the cosmetic section asked me if I wanted the manager to bring over the key.  I said 'yes'.  I'm not sure if you noticed something peculiar about that sentence back there.  I said, "kid that worked at the register in the cosmetic section."  There was a register in the cosmetic section.  While I was waiting for the manger/key, I went over and asked him if I could check out my items there.  He said, "Yes."  For some reason, I wave of terror swept over me.  I could just sense full-blown panic was about to set in.  Not quite sure why.  I think the kid noticed or something because then he told me that I didn't have to check out at his register.  It was a 'no-pressure' register.  I felt somewhat relived.  Then, the manager came by with the key and unlocked the coveted razor blades.  He asked me if I was going to continue shopping and I told him I had to get milk.  He said that he would leave the razors with the kid at the cosmetic register.  (!)  Now, I pretty much had to go to that register.  I don't really know why I didn't want to go to that register.  I just felt like I accidently almost freaked out on the kid and now I had to go back!  So, I got the milk and went back to the cosmetic register.  As I was standing there, I saw one of those wonderful entertainment magazines that said Angelina might be pregnant again.  I wondered out loud if she has a problem keeping her pants on.  The register guy agreed.  It also said that she wanted to have another baby in hopes of solving her and Brad's problems.  Again, I wondered out loud.  This time, I brought into question the power of this problem-solving technique.  The register kid agreed that having a baby is probably not the best way to solve a problem.  I think me and the register kid would've been great friends had we met under different circumstances. 

Magic is kinda lame.  Well, unless its real magic I guess.  I wouldn't want to call that lame, because, you know...it's probably not.  I wonder if there are still kids out there who want to grow up to be magicians.  Like serious magicians.  Not the David Blaine/Copperfield kind...those are illusionists.  I'm talking about kids so naive that they actually want to perform magical feats.  I suppose that's about as ambitious of a goal as any....for a dumbass. 

Yee haw!  <points finger guns up in the air>  <makes gun noise with mouth> Pckewww! Pckewww!  Evil doers!  Pckewwww!  Doing evil!  Pckewww! 

Pckewww!

<swaggers off into the sunset>

Pckewww!  Pckewww!

Well, la-ti-da.  We got a new fish.  He's really scary looking.  Kyle says that he has the power of a thousand Moby Dicks.  He is one badass mofo.  He doesn't do much of anything besides stare though.  Kyle called me last night from his girlfriend's to check on it.  He asked me if it was sleeping, but I couldn't really tell because he doesn't have eyelids. 

Panama!  Duh duh....duh de duh-duh...

I don't think I should ever go to prison.  I'm way to impatient for that crap.  Even if I have nothing to do and no plans, I just can't wait for anything.  Whatever is the next thing to do, I want to be doing whatever is after that.  Today is really bad.  I'm on edge and impatient.  For what?  I just can't freakin' wait. 

Holy crap, this is awesome!  This dude built a 1:20 scale working model of the German battleship 'Graf Spee'.  It's like 30 feet long and has a motor and everything!  He cruises around some lake in Maine jamming to Wagner and disrupting shipping lanes.  Fucking awesome. 

Here's a link to his site....

http://www.bismarck-class.dk/shipmodels/german_models/admiralgrafspeeterra.html

*as a side note, I in no way, shape or form condone the activities of the Nazi party.  I just like scale model replicas of stuff.