Dream Journal

Wednesday, January 11th:

Suddenly I am in Germany, 1942 wearing a yellow badge on my shirt. I am entirely surprised to find that it's not shaped like a star, but rather a bagel. Three SS officers grab me and drag me away.

They bring me to a dungeon-type basement; looking around, I notice a sign on the wall, which reads:

GESTAPO: BAGEL AND PASTRY DIVISION.

A grizzled Nazi with a long scar down the right side of his face comes in. His name is Herr Otto Klonkinhoffer.

Klonkinhoffer: Tell me where the cream cheese is.
Me (coy): What's cream cheese?
Klonkinhoffer: Tell me where the cream cheese is or your chocolate monkey gets it!
Me: Not Puddles!

He pushes a button and a curtain pulls back, revealing my Chocolate Monkey; blindfolded and shackled.

Puddles: Tell them nothing! Viva La Revolución!

Klonkinhoffer scoffs.

Klonkinhoffer: Tell me!

He pulls out a large glass of milk and a knife...covered in nougat.

Me: I...I don't know where the cream cheese is.
Klonkinhoffer: You can play coy with me, Mr. Manson, but remember, your chocolate monkey won't be the first dessert animal that I have eaten.

He points over to a rotting, half-eaten flan Zebra, chained to the wall.

Zebra: Kill...me...

Me: OK, OK...You'll find what you're looking for in the fridge!
Klonkinhoffer: Doesn't it feel good to be honest?

He looks over at his guards.

Klonkinhoffer: Eat the monkey.
Me: You promised, Klonkinhoffer!
Klonkinhoffer: My fingers were crossed.

He shows me his fingers, which somehow are curved into a Swastika.

Klonkinhoffer walks over to his fridge...

Klonkinhoffer: Finally, the last piece of the puzzle...

and opens it up....

Inside there's nothing but Vegan Cream Cheese.

Klonkinhoffer: Vegan? Are you kidding me? Hitler's gonna shvitz! I guess it'll have to do.

He pulls out a bagel and begins to spread it.

Klonkinhoffer: Hitler better like this.

15 minutes later Klonkinhoffer and his guards are hung for treason because Hitler thinks Vegan cream cheese is "not Aryan enough".

This gives rise to the great German-Vegan revolt of 1943, where 10,000 pale, thin hipsters with Star and Asian lettering Tattoos are massacred. They say that it's the beginning of the end for the great German empire and I am glad to be the man who started it all. I am also glad to be responsible for the death of so many Vegan-types.


Friday, October 16th:

I woke up in a cold sweat at 4am. Then I woke up in a cold sweat at 4am. Then I woke up in a cold sweat at 4am.

Then I woke up in a cold sweat at 4am with 12 voluptuous Nordic-types in bed, serving me chilled mojitos and discussing philosophy and the collected works of the Marx brothers. One of them knew David Bowie's oeuvre by heart and began to sing "Sound and Vision" with a sweet angelic voice, while the others engaged me in a long, drawn out chess game, which I won.

Later on, they stripped to their underwear and teased me until I told them politely that "I'm not that sort of guy". We watched the BBC sitcom "Peep Show" and ate scrumptious poached eggs and drank sweetly-mild freshly brewed coffee.

When I woke up at 9am, I realized that I might have some issues about sex.