Friday, December 14, 2012

Torture Dreams

I have posted about general ideas on dreams before, but I never really addressed the aspect of dreams that I like to call dream torture. Your brain is the creator of all of your dreams, and your brain is the part of you that feels the effects of dreams, so I would like to know why your brain is sometimes a total jerk to itself. Why do our brains create terrible scenarios for us to suffer through while we are trying to relax? Sometimes I have fantastic dreams where I am hanging out with super-heroes, or making the best cake ever, but sometimes I have dreams that are torturous.

 My torture dreams usually include a very important but ultimately impossible task, like warning everyone about imminent danger that only I am aware of and only I care about.

 I also often have dreams where I have to solve a very important equation, but the numbers are all shifty and I can't keep my train of thought on the solution.

 Then I have dreams where I must write down something very important, but I can't write it out sensibly or the things I did write fade away.

 There are also terrible dreams where Bryce is mean to me. I know this is cliche and unfair. In real life Handsome Bryce is the most faithful, kind, and considerate person I know, but Dream Bryce is alternately super heroic or super aloof. It isn't his fault that my brain sometimes casts him as a guy with a second secret family, but is it my fault that I find those dreams to be traumatizing? I don't expect him to apologize for despicable behavior that he only committed in my foggy dream, but it really couldn't hurt!

 Feelings don't have to be valid to exist. So guys, if someone has a terrible dream and they feel terrible as a result, I say don't question the craziness of your predicament, just reassure them that real-you would never never do the things that fatty jerkface dream-you does. My most recent terrible dream, happened to coincide with Bryce's most recent awesome dream, and it was no good. My dream involved McBaby jumping off of a boat and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I woke up sobbing, to see Bryce peacefully sleeping with a great big smile.

I told him about my dream, because usually he is a good commiserator, but on that night he couldn't be that upset because, hey, it was just a dream, and he happened to have been dreaming he was surrounded by happy puppies like in this video. It isn't his fault that my brain hates me and his brain loves him, but it isn't my fault either and I think I am entitled to a little bit of pity!

So friends, in conclusion, torture dreams are just dreams, but they are still torture! If you or a loved one has suffered from a torture dream, know that you are not alone. Together we can rid the world of the misunderstanding and prejudice that surrounds our condition.

Thursday, December 13, 2012


Periodically I decide to recommit to exercising. It always makes me feel gross. I have a  friend who likes to use the expression, "I feel like I was hit by the poo-truck of tiredness." I have decided that there really isn't too much of a difference between being hit by a poo-truck and running. Observe:

McBaby likes the running better though, because then he can sit in his stroller and eat animal cookies, like a sultan.

Friday, December 07, 2012

Why I Hate Meetings

So I was going to do a post about revamping my bathroom, but then I thought, "You know, people are probably tired of reading about you doing house projects."  I know what you all really want, so here is a comic to get you through your Friday!

I kind of hate meetings. Things always start out well.

You get to see people and chat a little, and feel important sitting around a table of importance.

But then things start to fall apart. You either run out of important things to talk about, or people run out of attention-spans. The meeting is suddenly no longer productive, and I start covertly checking my watch and thinking about how Handsome Bryce and I could be playing "Paper Mario" right now.

 Then eventually people run out of things to complain about and sarcastic remarks start to lull. At this point the person leading the meeting will often address the lull by saying the worst thing ever:

I sit there silently hoping against hope that no one will bring anything up and the meeting will stop.

But there's always that one guy.

And with that, the meeting goes on even longer, for no reason at all. At this point I can't pay attention to any more meeting discussion because my brain has imploded into a tiny brain-crumb of fury. I don't know what that guy's deal is, but I am pretty sure he got a few wedgies back in the day for stunts like this:

Can adults go to jail for wedgie-related offenses?