My dreams are always nightmares about zombies and an apocalypse and last night was no exception.
The zombies in my nightmares don't behave like they do in movies, i.e., if you take off their head it does nothing, they can still function. They operate as a hive mind, so the more there are of them in close proximity, they start exhibiting higher intelligence.
Last night's nightmare started off that I was in the back of a pickup truck, with a colt .45 revolver, it was in the afternoon, and we where along a country road. You start hearing the thumping of helicopter blades off in the distance, getting louder, so you know it's coming our way. I look up and I see a school bus that's been jury rigged to be a bus-helicopter and that the zombies are using it as a troop transport. It's very badly done, the bus was obviously just ransacked as there is a huge amount of blood all over it. A huge plume of black smoke is coming out of it, leaving a dark cloud trail in the sky. It is filled to the brim with zombies.
They open the door and the start falling out of the helicopter, smacking onto the pavement. They're breaking their bones and some of them are just turning into goo, but they get up and try to pursue us. This is where the revolver comes in handy. I start shoot at them, trying to just slow them down. The truck floors it and the buscopter is trying to keep up. More and more zombies are falling out of the helicopter, trying to get to us. So many zombies fall out that, and their distance is so spread out, that their collective intelligence starts to decrease. The buscopter pilot gets dumber and starts trying to smack us with his flying machine. We barely escape, but I catch a glimpse of what the zombie looks like before the buscopter explodes on the road. It's a friend of mine, a battle buddy.
We're now driving through a city, when we come up to a human base. In my dream, zombies hate artificial light, so the city is glowing and people are out and about preparing defenses. As we're coming up to the base, the power goes off, a gigantic zombie horde erupts from the distance and starts rampaging through the city. They're being lead by some gigantic looking monster thing. We make it to the base, a gigantic, heavy, steel door closes behind us, and I hear the screams of the people and the zombies coming from the other side then it all stops.
I start to hear scratching at the door, then pounding. My nightmare does an out of body experience where the view changes from my view to rotate around the door and show me what's going on. Zombies are piling up and destroying their limbs in order to break the door. The pounding is coming from the massive monster leading them but I can't quite make out what it is. They break through as I'm trying to find an escape route and a weapon. The smaller zombies start killing the other people in the base while the large zombie monster comes after me. I see that it's some stitched up monstrosity and the number 3 has been grafted/burned/tattooed on it's shoulder. One of it's forearms has been cut off and replaced with a gigantic blunt metal pole, it looks like it's skin has been grafted on, pulled and stretched in different places, hoses and tubes are hooked into it at different spots feeding it a constantly supply of blood and muscle. It finds me, it looks at me while raising up it's killing arm. It speaks and says:
"3 of 7", then the arm comes down and I wake up.
Edit: I fucking hate horror films especially ones with zombies. It's like giving my brain ammo to torment me later while I sleep.
Englishmen do 'special hugs' with their wives, in private. This involves less bodily contact than a normal hug, but is frightful to all right-thinking gentlemen.
I didn't show on monday, and I really should've. Not to get anything done; we do nothing on monday. But just to be there. Not lose all momentum I've got when it comes to doing things.
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y2jake215certified Flat Birther theoristthe Last Good Boy onlineRegistered Userregular
edited November 2012
Guhhhh
Need to just sleep more
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GonmunHe keeps kickin' me inthe dickRegistered Userregular
@Evigilant Did you by chance have that chat with your roommates about the incident the other night?
TV2's (second largest channel) handball expert got exluded from girls 13 matches. Because he criticized the judges after a match where his team lost, and did so with both volume and intensity. One judge walked away crying.
It should be said that he's 45, the players are 13, and the judges 17. The stakes aren't all that high.
My dreams are always nightmares about zombies and an apocalypse and last night was no exception.
The zombies in my nightmares don't behave like they do in movies, i.e., if you take off their head it does nothing, they can still function. They operate as a hive mind, so the more there are of them in close proximity, they start exhibiting higher intelligence.
Last night's nightmare started off that I was in the back of a pickup truck, with a colt .45 revolver, it was in the afternoon, and we where along a country road. You start hearing the thumping of helicopter blades off in the distance, getting louder, so you know it's coming our way. I look up and I see a school bus that's been jury rigged to be a bus-helicopter and that the zombies are using it as a troop transport. It's very badly done, the bus was obviously just ransacked as there is a huge amount of blood all over it. A huge plume of black smoke is coming out of it, leaving a dark cloud trail in the sky. It is filled to the brim with zombies.
They open the door and the start falling out of the helicopter, smacking onto the pavement. They're breaking their bones and some of them are just turning into goo, but they get up and try to pursue us. This is where the revolver comes in handy. I start shoot at them, trying to just slow them down. The truck floors it and the buscopter is trying to keep up. More and more zombies are falling out of the helicopter, trying to get to us. So many zombies fall out that, and their distance is so spread out, that their collective intelligence starts to decrease. The buscopter pilot gets dumber and starts trying to smack us with his flying machine. We barely escape, but I catch a glimpse of what the zombie looks like before the buscopter explodes on the road. It's a friend of mine, a battle buddy.
We're now driving through a city, when we come up to a human base. In my dream, zombies hate artificial light, so the city is glowing and people are out and about preparing defenses. As we're coming up to the base, the power goes off, a gigantic zombie horde erupts from the distance and starts rampaging through the city. They're being lead by some gigantic looking monster thing. We make it to the base, a gigantic, heavy, steel door closes behind us, and I hear the screams of the people and the zombies coming from the other side then it all stops.
I start to hear scratching at the door, then pounding. My nightmare does an out of body experience where the view changes from my view to rotate around the door and show me what's going on. Zombies are piling up and destroying their limbs in order to break the door. The pounding is coming from the massive monster leading them but I can't quite make out what it is. They break through as I'm trying to find an escape route and a weapon. The smaller zombies start killing the other people in the base while the large zombie monster comes after me. I see that it's some stitched up monstrosity and the number 3 has been grafted/burned/tattooed on it's shoulder. One of it's forearms has been cut off and replaced with a gigantic blunt metal pole, it looks like it's skin has been grafted on, pulled and stretched in different places, hoses and tubes are hooked into it at different spots feeding it a constantly supply of blood and muscle. It finds me, it looks at me while raising up it's killing arm. It speaks and says:
"3 of 7", then the arm comes down and I wake up.
Edit: I fucking hate horror films especially ones with zombies. It's like giving my brain ammo to torment me later while I sleep.
That is... something. The copter bus is a weirdly cool idea.
Also: Next time you dream something like that, try to gather as many of them as you can in a small space to get their hive mind really buzzing, then explain them the virtues of vegetarianism.
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Donkey KongPutting Nintendo out of business with AI nipsRegistered Userregular
let me walk you through my absolutely insane mind- this is a dream i've had a few times now in the past couple months.
so in this dream i have a totally new family- none of the people in this dream (except me, debatably) are real. the people i'm aware of are a kind of tired, beat down single mother and then my little brother who's sad and sickly, and very underdeveloped. think lil' robert arryn.
so i'm the only one home (or at least, in the main living area of the house) when i hear a knock on the door. it's a very pretty (if slightly gap toothed, kind of quirkily imperfect) young woman. this girl is either a call girl or a recalcitrant amateur porn star- like, backroom casting couch style. she is not being coerced or anything but she is just a mixture of bored, apathetic, and kind of unhappy about having to be here. she and i then proceed to have amazing, life changing, inimitable, mind blowing sex. once it's over she gets dressed. here is where it gets... exceptionally weird.
there is now a level of abstraction in the dream. on the one hand, my dream's protagonist is aware of the situation- aware that she's being paid and isn't really loving this situation, and feels nothing for me. but another part of me- the more immediate instantiation of 'me' in this dream- loves her madly and believes implicitly that this experience we just shared has led to that love being reciprocal. it is that sense of mutual love felt by my dream-self when my pathetic, ~6 year old brother and my mom walk in.
i proudly place my hand around the waist of the girl, pleased to introduce my one-half-of-my-mind's legitimate, loving girlfriend. i say "mom, bro, this is katie."
my mom's face immediately drops. she goes from horrified to angry in a split second and manages to sputter out... katie!?
this is where my brain immediately plays catch-up, as i realize why she's angry. a few things happen instantaneously:
1) i realize that my arm isn't around anyone. within this dream world i've totally invented this girl. i look over and no one is there. the woman was a figment (even in the context of my imagined world) and there is no one standing next to me. it's just me, my little brother, and my mother in the room.
2) i immediately realize that i once had a little sister named katie. she died very young, maybe as a toddler? she couldn't have lived until she was older than 2 or 3.
the last thing that happens after these two revelations is that my mind (like, my mind within my mind- the mind of my character, standing there in that room) goes through a sped-up recollection of katie. it's kind of an old, vaudevillian horror filter. she is an incredibly stunted, deformed child. her hunchback is pronounced and she sort of scoots around the floor like a land snake, kind of impelling herself sideways by flexing her core. she is a carnival freakshow, basically, and all these memories are accompanied by glibly upbeat piano with a grainy, old timey filmstrip format as the various pictures and videos fly by in memory.
then i wake up.
what the fuck? am i a serial killer?
Wow. Yes, probably.
Thousands of hot, local singles are waiting to play at bubbulon.com.
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y2jake215certified Flat Birther theoristthe Last Good Boy onlineRegistered Userregular
TV2's (second largest channel) handball expert got exluded from girls 13 matches. Because he criticized the judges after a match where his team lost, and did so with both volume and intensity. One judge walked away crying.
It should be said that he's 45, the players are 13, and the judges 17. The stakes aren't all that high.
Do not judge lest ye be judged yourself
y2jake215 on
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pre-breakfast: a glass of juice and one of the macarons my sister made.
Man, she's really good at making these.
This is the pink kind. And they're not perfectly smooth, as then you need almond flour (or finely ground scalded almonds, which was a bit too much of a bother)
TV2's (second largest channel) handball expert got exluded from girls 13 matches. Because he criticized the judges after a match where his team lost, and did so with both volume and intensity. One judge walked away crying.
It should be said that he's 45, the players are 13, and the judges 17. The stakes aren't all that high.
Do not judge lest ye be judged yourself
pssh, people will judge you whether you judge them or not.
when she got some with her host family she idly wondered how hard it would be to make them
next thing she new they called in a cousin who was a pastry chef who brought with him a giant box of tools and now she knows how to make them good enough to sell if she wanted to.
Despite seldom having the correct kind of tool for stirring it.
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TavIrish Minister for DefenceRegistered Userregular
It would have been really neat if my service provider had informed me that my free texts had ran out before I was totally incapable of getting in touch with my boss on the bus in this morning as I was running late.
pre-breakfast: a glass of juice and one of the macarons my sister made.
Man, she's really good at making these.
This is the pink kind. And they're not perfectly smooth, as then you need almond flour (or finely ground scalded almonds, which was a bit too much of a bother)
Those look good. A good macaron is hard to come by. They released a French-style macaron place in NYC called Ladurée. It is good. My French friends said "not as good as Paris." They look like the ones your sister has made.
Bowen’s rule states colleges raise all the money they can and then spend it on an unlimited list of projects that seemingly enhance “quality.” Essentially, the rule says revenues drive costs. The components of Bowen’s rule are break-even non-profit budgeting, the peculiar economics of experience goods, and unresolved agency problems. Agency problems imply staff/student ratios are flexible on the upside (declining productivity), rather than fixed as is implied by Baumol’s cost disease.
...
The rule is derived from Bowen’s five laws: 1) “The dominant goals of institutions are educational excellence, prestige, and influence;” 2) “there is virtually no limit to the amount of money an institution could spend for seemingly fruitful educational ends;” 3) “each institution raises all the money it can;” 4) “each institution spends all it raises;” and 5) “the cumulative effect of the preceding four laws is toward ever increasing expenditure” (Bowen, 1980, 19-20).
TV2's (second largest channel) handball expert got exluded from girls 13 matches. Because he criticized the judges after a match where his team lost, and did so with both volume and intensity. One judge walked away crying.
It should be said that he's 45, the players are 13, and the judges 17. The stakes aren't all that high.
Do not judge lest ye be judged yourself
pssh, people will judge you whether you judge them or not.
But if you're a judge you shouldn't cry when your judging is judged, it's just fair judge-on-judge judging privilege
Don't you judge me dunadan
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
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What did you need advice on Elldren?
Elldren: Don't do cocaine.
Choose Your Own Chat 1 Choose Your Own Chat 2 Choose Your Own Chat 3
You lie. An Englishman does not "hug".
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The zombies in my nightmares don't behave like they do in movies, i.e., if you take off their head it does nothing, they can still function. They operate as a hive mind, so the more there are of them in close proximity, they start exhibiting higher intelligence.
Last night's nightmare started off that I was in the back of a pickup truck, with a colt .45 revolver, it was in the afternoon, and we where along a country road. You start hearing the thumping of helicopter blades off in the distance, getting louder, so you know it's coming our way. I look up and I see a school bus that's been jury rigged to be a bus-helicopter and that the zombies are using it as a troop transport. It's very badly done, the bus was obviously just ransacked as there is a huge amount of blood all over it. A huge plume of black smoke is coming out of it, leaving a dark cloud trail in the sky. It is filled to the brim with zombies.
They open the door and the start falling out of the helicopter, smacking onto the pavement. They're breaking their bones and some of them are just turning into goo, but they get up and try to pursue us. This is where the revolver comes in handy. I start shoot at them, trying to just slow them down. The truck floors it and the buscopter is trying to keep up. More and more zombies are falling out of the helicopter, trying to get to us. So many zombies fall out that, and their distance is so spread out, that their collective intelligence starts to decrease. The buscopter pilot gets dumber and starts trying to smack us with his flying machine. We barely escape, but I catch a glimpse of what the zombie looks like before the buscopter explodes on the road. It's a friend of mine, a battle buddy.
We're now driving through a city, when we come up to a human base. In my dream, zombies hate artificial light, so the city is glowing and people are out and about preparing defenses. As we're coming up to the base, the power goes off, a gigantic zombie horde erupts from the distance and starts rampaging through the city. They're being lead by some gigantic looking monster thing. We make it to the base, a gigantic, heavy, steel door closes behind us, and I hear the screams of the people and the zombies coming from the other side then it all stops.
I start to hear scratching at the door, then pounding. My nightmare does an out of body experience where the view changes from my view to rotate around the door and show me what's going on. Zombies are piling up and destroying their limbs in order to break the door. The pounding is coming from the massive monster leading them but I can't quite make out what it is. They break through as I'm trying to find an escape route and a weapon. The smaller zombies start killing the other people in the base while the large zombie monster comes after me. I see that it's some stitched up monstrosity and the number 3 has been grafted/burned/tattooed on it's shoulder. One of it's forearms has been cut off and replaced with a gigantic blunt metal pole, it looks like it's skin has been grafted on, pulled and stretched in different places, hoses and tubes are hooked into it at different spots feeding it a constantly supply of blood and muscle. It finds me, it looks at me while raising up it's killing arm. It speaks and says:
"3 of 7", then the arm comes down and I wake up.
Edit: I fucking hate horror films especially ones with zombies. It's like giving my brain ammo to torment me later while I sleep.
Choose Your Own Chat 1 Choose Your Own Chat 2 Choose Your Own Chat 3
I didn't show on monday, and I really should've. Not to get anything done; we do nothing on monday. But just to be there. Not lose all momentum I've got when it comes to doing things.
Need to just sleep more
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
They are covered in soft fur and fill you with a warm feeling of contentment as they destroy you and everyone nearby
It should be said that he's 45, the players are 13, and the judges 17. The stakes aren't all that high.
That is... something. The copter bus is a weirdly cool idea.
Also: Next time you dream something like that, try to gather as many of them as you can in a small space to get their hive mind really buzzing, then explain them the virtues of vegetarianism.
Wow. Yes, probably.
Do not judge lest ye be judged yourself
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
Man, she's really good at making these.
This is the pink kind. And they're not perfectly smooth, as then you need almond flour (or finely ground scalded almonds, which was a bit too much of a bother)
pssh, people will judge you whether you judge them or not.
next thing she new they called in a cousin who was a pastry chef who brought with him a giant box of tools and now she knows how to make them good enough to sell if she wanted to.
Despite seldom having the correct kind of tool for stirring it.
Those look good. A good macaron is hard to come by. They released a French-style macaron place in NYC called Ladurée. It is good. My French friends said "not as good as Paris." They look like the ones your sister has made.
(because the vast majority just buys them)
Haha I like how the name I picked for my alias is a super common surname/first name in some parts of the world.
because there is an old and deep-seated tradition that you need to bake "7 kinds for christmas"
+our kind of doughnuts is one interpretation of what the traditional 7 are.
Only one?
But if you're a judge you shouldn't cry when your judging is judged, it's just fair judge-on-judge judging privilege
Don't you judge me dunadan
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
twitch.tv/tehsloth
Judge
maybe i'm streaming terrible dj right now if i am its here
one is less symbolic than the others.
I thought it was this one:
Isn't...isn't that what a vagina looks like?
I doubt it. It's not even well-known in italy, and it's based on abstinence - not eating meat or milk and being more ascetic about it.
We are definitely not ascetic about christmas.
no the goro is a representation of the vaginal door, or gate, that you have to pass.
which probably make up a significant part of any child's diet in the days leading up to christmas.