Today's Mitchventure includes two strange dreams I've had in the past. These are from a while back, but I always thought they were funny and have been meaning to write them down.

In the first one, I dreamt I was in a this huge, cavernous house. It was old, with enormous winding stairways and pale white statues. There were weird things flying around verywhere. Ghost and half-corporeal froms that seemed to fade in and out of reality. I was walking around this place in a befuddled state, when I looked over towards an open doorway and saw my dad. He was engaged in a boxing match.

With a ghost. I distinctly remember dad exchanging blows with the ghost for a couple seconds, and then getting hit hard in the stomach.

I think I woke up then, feeling very confused.

Of course all i can think of now is that Dad had his guard too high.

Keep that guard mid-level dad. Those ghosts are sneaky bastards.

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The other dream I remember was from a loooong time ago when I was fairly young. I'm not sure, but I think it was a dream that actually recurred a few times. I'm running through a house that looks a lot like mine, only it has several more stories.

And I remember I'm running from someone I can't get away from. Like in those stupid slasher films. I keep closing doors and putting things in front of them, but it doesn't matter, my pursuer always finds away around or through whatever I put in his way.

And then I realize that the one following me is Mr. Fantastic.

I mean, the guy can bend under door cracks and send his hand to follow you around corners and through tiny holes in the wall. You just can't escape him. He is the ultimate stalker/assasin.

I'm sure people who know me at all will have various Freudian explanations for this dream. To them let me say this-

Don't make me sic Mr. Fantastic on you. Because, you know I will.

Have you ever sat in front of those automatic doors in supermarkets for like a minute, and then suddenly burst at them full speed in order to slam into them before they fully open?

Well you should. Why you ask? To prove that their NOT "automatic", YOU have some say in the door-walking process! You're not a machine, you have your own two legs. And without your walking patronage, automatic doors would be out of work hobos, drunk and living on the street, opening and closing to pedestrians for a buck!

My name is Mitch.

And I'm running for president.

What I have in common with infomercials.

We tend to make no sense and are extremely strange or "off" somehow on an unconcious level.

Two examples of each.


1) MITCH

Ok, so I was standing over the toilet peeing the other day. I remember I had to go pretty bad and so I was there for a minute or two. Only, my need to go wasn't diminishing at all. You know- that incredible feeling of relief, like when daffy duck gets lit on fire and races around until he finally lands in a pond or conveniently placed bucket of water. That feeling.

(As a side note, apparently lighting obnoxious ducks on fire is considerably less funny in real life. But that's a different (fictional) story)

Anyway, I wasn't getting that feeling at all. Just the same uncomfortable pressure. Five minutes went by and I was still going at it steadily. Ten minutes. Twenty. HALF AN HOUR. At this point I was thinking "What the hell? Have I been cursed or something? You have to hand it to the creative warlock who came up with that one.

That's about the time I woke up from my dream. I promptly got out of bed and relieved myself, grateful that my body is a lot smarter than my brain.


2)INFOMERCIAL

I was watching this infomercial a while back about some Betty Crocker bowl set or something. It was had all these utensils and things used to make hollow cakes you can then inject frosting into. As soon as it came on I called and ordered 6 billion, one for everyone in the world. because if you can't inject cakes with frosting, why live?

Just kidding. I ignored the commercial mostly, but one line towards the end of it really stuck out at me. I'm not kidding. The narrarator actually said-

"It's the most fun you'll ever have with the inside of a cake!"

Now, maybe I'm the only one who immediately makes certain awful connections regarding this bold statement, but i doubt it. I mean come on. If he just said it's the most fun you'll ever have with "cakes" or "baking" that would make sense. But to be so specific as to say "the INSIDE of a cake" that's just suspicious. Plus he seemed so enthusiastic. Maybe he knew something else, some dark secret about the most fun HE'S ever had with the inside of a cake.

Ok I grossed myself out.


3)MITCH

A poem.
*Ahem*

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I

If a full grown man of two meters in stature,
is through some mechanism supplanted
into a common match box;
He will suffer considerable discomfort.

This is a matter of common science

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I had this idea for a prose-poem in which I start off with a sort of casual sounding outrageous metaphor. But then I found myself comically unable to continue the metaphor. I hope to actually someday write more parts that actually have a point to them, but for now it's just a sort of bizzarre nonsequitir. Maybe i'll leave it that way, as a tribute to bizzarity (yes i know that's not a word, but it is now, because i command it so.)


4)INFOMERCIAL

Now that I think about it, I guess this is more of a public service message than an infomercial but oh well. I saw one today that was about smoking marijuanna. They open up with an old lady sitting at a dinner table waiting. I think the clock ticks ominously a few times and then a voice over comes in with something like-

"YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D BE TOO STONED TO HAVE DINNER WITH YOUR GRANDMOTHER, DID YOU?" And then they flash the symbol from whoever supports these things.

I dunno, i just thought it was kind of hilarious. I think the people who write these commercials should do a little more research. Too stoned to have dinner?

I feel like the minutes before that little scene would be like-

"Dude, aren't you supposed to like, be somewhere right now, or whatever?"
"Oh man, you're right, my grandma's making dinner!"
"Serious? What are we doing here then?"

And then the son and all of his stoner friends swarm grandma's table. Although, I guess crunchy things are more the craving after smoking pot then dinner type stuff. Unless grandma is making A roast turkey made completely of cheetos or something. Ok maybe not. Although that does sound like something one of my high friends might come up with. See? I don't have to be high to come up with these things. I'm just like that naturally.




So probablly by now you're thinking-

"But Mitch, your four stories don't really have anything in common"

To which I hesitatingly reply-

"They illustrate that, um, if peopel are weird enough, it will come out even when their tryng to hide it."

And then of course you'd say, with that know-it-all tone of yours-

"But that's not what you said in the beginning. You're completely disjointed. I mean it's almost as if you just thought of four random stories and then came up with some lame excuse about how they were related to make it look like you know what you're doing


Which would inevitibly would lead to a few minutes of awakward silence and then finally I would yell-

"I DARE YOU TO SAY THAT AGAIN!" while loading my Rocket Launcher.

"Mitch, wake up and stop drooling all over the carpet" would be your witty retort.


It's strange how dreaming about violence isn't as troubling as dreaming about urination.

I pledge that next time, I'll make no sense in a more sensical fashion.

Yo.

Welcome to The Funny.

My other journal is mostly full of whiney angst (though i think i might stop that now). So I decided to use this one to maintain the clever artifice that I can actually write funny stuff sometimes.

I'm pretty rusty at writing hilarity since I've been focusing on witing more drama/fiction pieces. But I'm beginning to suspect the tragedy of my life is that I want to write tragedy, but I'm really only good at comedy. Which, of coruse, can be a comedy if you're a sadist. Who sucks. And smells bad.

Anyway, we'll see. And hopefully at the least, I'll get better at it as things progress. My stuff in the beginning is likely to be more along the lines of profoundly stupid and nonsensical than funny.