The 20% defense

For some reason I didn’t sleep well Saturday night, one or two hours, but I didn’t have much I had to do yesterday, as I only had to stare at the screen at the very suspenseful Iggles game and they didn’t need me to go in and block. Then I went to bed and slept for 13 hours, lucid dreams.

Dream journey: A cast iron footbridge had broken and there was a gap of about ten feet in it that a little girl was staring down at. I decided to climb around the support structure on the side to get across. This was dangerous because it was very high up. I couldn’t pull myself up onto the bridge again, but there was a tunnel underneath that transported me to the New York Public Library, which I entered through the ceiling causing dust and plaster chips to come down with me which made everyone look up.

An old poetry magazine put up a web version that made animated cartoons of two of my poems and some other people’s. The cartoons were hilarious.

I went to an old art school where a hairdresser died my hair red, gave me a comb-over, and dressed me in bike pants and a t-shirt, which looked silly but I didn’t seem to mind. My instructions were to ride a bike over to a house down the street where trees were being felled to be sent to Germany. When I got there I ended up catching tree limbs, which isn’t generally a great idea.

I was in a suburban house and a naked woman ran out front, and I thought it was an eccentric girlfriend and was embarrassed but it turned out I was in Terrell Owens’ house and a group of two or three naked women and a costumed man had broken in for some sort of prank. When I went out front the police were there and the public was cordoned off across the street and was shouting things, and TO was standing on his front lawn shouting things to the handcuffed intruders. A local news reporter said the arrested were going to employ the 20% irony defense.