Freaky Pre-Cog City

10/20/2025 –

I’m in a dream and I’m in a bedroom across the hall from my wife’s bedroom. Both rooms and the hallway seem to be both floating in a blackened void space and meant to represent my parent’s upstairs setup when I was a kid. I say something to my wife all the way across the hallway floating in a void and I can see a circular yellow bubble explode when I do.

Now I’m waking up in my bed pretty what the fuck because I do not remember what happened. I thought I was going to get laid. Weak. Also, you know, how did I get here? I don’t have much time to contemplate it before I slip into this choppy liminal state. I can hear the basic plot through the blackness. My brother has started selling bootleg snacks in the frat house he lives in and the upper brass aren’t super happy with it. Vibe I get is that it’s just unhealthy stuff they don’t want around.

I pull back out into my bed wondering what was going on with all that, then I slip back under. My brother’s sitting on these chairs that look like big snowshoes with a couple of the top brass frat dudes. They’re eating the soft stuff out of arty looking light tan cones. I look at my brother and he’s being pretty impressive in how he’s keeping his vanilla off the snowshoe chairs. They’re all eating soft serv happily and everything seems cool here but you can tell it’s sort of not just under the surface. They want to resist but they’re mesmerized by the cones. I feel like the resistance might ramp up as time goes on but right now it’s barely there, lost to delicious dairy sugar explosions.

One more thing. In a trance an arm with tattoos is looking at this bitchin’, colorful eye popper of a CD cover. Then I’m told it’s by:

Gator Bob

I see a Claymation image of a large blue head. Now blonde strands of Claymation hair start sprouting down from the top. That’s it really. I don’t even know if it’s Gator Bob.

10/21/2025 –

My wife and I are in the hip fictional neighborhood to the northeast of us that I often find myself in on the other side. We’ve found this seemingly rocker gastro pub type joint with those cylindrical wooden industrial looking tables. I mean, it seems like a cool place and everyone else seems happy but nah. We have been waiting here forever and no one has come and asked us about drinks. What the fuck is going on with that?

Eventually this woman hands me a couple plates of food. We sit down at the picnic style table to wolf it down but when we do it gets odd. This short stocky woman with curly black hair wearing a tank top sitting next to me starts grabbing scraps off my plate. What the fuck?

I pull away but not too long after that she just starts feasting on my shit shamelessly. Again, what the fuck? Is somebody going to stop her? Apparently not. It’s very odd but I guess I got enough and there seems to be some more slop across the table. It does look very much like slop, all covered in tan gravy. My wife approves. The foods OK but where are the drinks? Are we even going to get drinks?

I don’t think we do. Instead we’re outside in what appears to be a ritzy neighborhood. My wife’s going home but I’ve got a hair appointment a block over. I do not remember this appointment at all. Instead, I recall waking up back at home, except you know, not like my actual home. I’m sitting there looking into a wood paneled hallway sort of wondering why I left the car back in the hip neighborhood.

“I can’t take my wife’s car to go get that car, can I? No, that won’t work. “

Is what I’m thinking. The mechanics of this are legitimately confounding me. Then my wife’s voice booms.

“I said I need HELP NOW!”

Which jumps me into the other room.

The next evening, this exact thing happens. My wife spills wine and then yells at me to grab towels. Then yells at me because I'm not grabbing them quick enough. Freaky pre-cog city.

10/22/2025 –

I’m eating at a wooden outside table in a restaurant with some family and friends. It’s a gorgeous day and there’s an excellent view of yellow grass rolling mountains with the water in the distance. I’m being told I have great hair. That’s the consensus. I have great hair and they’re specifically pointing to the little flippy wavy thick spazz area on the tip of my front left part. I wake up and think to myself. You know, I do have a weird slightly curly spazz area at the front of my left part. Am I doing enough with that? Important questions to ponder for sure.

Next comes an amazingly weird sequence where I’m doing internal exercises to try and remember a dream inside of another dream. And it works. I’m like: Yep. I absolutely remember this dream. It’s the same shit I do in waking life. Just making sure I go through the proceedings over and over again. So strange and disembodying and of course, do I remember this dream when I wake up? Would it be funny if I did? No, of course I didn’t. I remembered it in the dream though.

Now a sequence where it’s like I’m at my mom’s place and it’s supposed to be the last day of vacation and it’s supposed to be a vacation with my grandma so I have no idea why my mom’s here. I’m waking up in her old pantry spot for unknown reasons and wow is there a ton of cereal. Like, lots and lots of cereal. I am about to mow down on an enormous bowl of Wheaties.

I know other shit happens here but I have no idea what it is. The next thing I remember I’m relaxing in the back of a commercial airplane. A bunch of people who seem to be my friends are hanging out all around me and kind of like standing above me while I’m lounging back. There are seemingly people in the overhead compartments. It’s odd but everything seems to be totally fine.

They’re just telling me we’re rolling along fine but one thing, where are the dogs? My grandma didn’t send them with us. She’s apparently going to send them across the border 4 months later.

Hell no. I see my spectral grandma and my spectral dogs but I am not going 4 months without my dogs. It just feels too wrong in this state. Going to sort that one out when I land for sure. 

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