Dream:
What a funny dream I had. I dreamed that I was walking through a cityscape much like Montreal (for there were the same kinds of alleyways behind houses and the same kind of low buildings packed tightly through the downtown core and there was the same lack of vegetation; grass or trees, that is such a hallmark of this city’s downtown) and, even though it was the summer time, I kept seeing these large crested snow banks piled up against buildings. How curious, I thought, that there would be snow there, but when I went to touch it I realised that it was not snow but Styrofoam that had been moulded into the shape of snow.
I turned down a street that had this treatment and saw that there were men with large hoses spraying the walls of the buildings with the white foam and the foam was filling the air with a thick dense mist as I walked past. I ran my hand along a freshly covered wall and the foam came off and stuck to my hand. It was dry and it left a rough texture on my palms. In order to protect myself from the spray, which I seems to believe was toxic, I pulled my shirt up over my nose and mouth as I passed through he cloud. I noticed a lot of the workers had masks, but not all were wearing them.
There was one guy in a black t-shirt right at the entrance to the beach (like I said this wasn’t exactly Montreal) and he was spraying with a hose high in the air and his gas mask was pulled down and hanging loose around his neck.
The beach was curious. There was a long rolling field full of dry grass that reached down to the sea. On the beach (and I seemed not surprised by this in the dream) there was a series of protesters demonstrating against the spraying project. The gas is toxic, their oddly rectangular and upright signs seemed to say. These oddly oblong signs were somehow Japanese seeming to me.
Past the protesters as a crowd of right wingers who were going on about how much they hated protests. One man, standing on a boardwalk, elevated slightly above where I was walking, was in fact a failed candidate for the US presidency. He was giving a speech about how easy it was to make left wingers go absolutely nuts by saying completely offensive things to them about anti-abortion rights and petroleum drilling and so on and so forth.
Porlock:
I was awakened by a call from the husband of some woman who had been writing me on Craigslist asking to buy my laptop. She was supposed to arrive today. I’d like a correction, he told me, you changed your ad from saying that it was a Compaq C700 to just a 700, so which model is it? It’s a 700, I told him. Oh…well…I don’t think we’ll be interested in that one, he told me. Mr. fucking responsibility he was. You could just tell that this couple were a pair of assheads anyhow because they had a shared e-mail address. Trust me, anytime you get an e-mail that is from both Jim-Bob and Wendy Fuckface at the same time you know that there are either serious control issues in their marriage or they are the kind of people who wear matching K-Ways when they go shopping at Wall-Mart and either way I’m glad they didn’t buy my laptop. But fuck, now I gotta list the ad again!
Conclusion:
It could be worse, I guess. Two nights ago I dreamed that you called me and told me that you had made love to a Mall Santa you met at the mall. I was happy for you because you had really wanted to do it and it made you happy. I know in real life you can do much better than mall Santas, but in my dream you fucked one anyhow.
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