The Skillz Report

September 28, 2014

 

I'm in a taxi; in a detour from common stereotypes, I'm the driver and a Hindu guy is the passenger. I'm "translating" some words for him as best as I can—to his GREAT amusement. I mean, he's laughing to the point of tears. Whatever, as long as he's happy.

 

Soon, we get lost in a backyard that could pass for a forest. We emerge on a dirt path, somehow joined by my late uncle William—who is as pissed at this development as the passenger was amused by my translations. Realizing we have to "hunt" our way out, I wind up at some chick's door, where I comment how her dog reminds me of a baby. Real smooth, Skillz.

 

 

September 27, 2014

 

A trifecta of nonsense: after a brief foray with The A-Team outside some mansion, I have my annual Naked Taco Bell night vision.

 

??

 

IRL, from 1999-2003 (with a gap in between) I financed my car through employment at The Border. Ever since I left, I've had an annual vision about going back to work there and being overwhelmed by the changes in menu. I try hard but every time, I fall way behind on orders and quit out of frustration—being sure to disrobe from uniform and underwear before storming out of the restaurant naked.

 

Tonight featured the 2014 version. It was the usual: I'm back at work making orders. Everything is swell at first but soon, more and more orders come, and most of the stuff are items that didn't exist in "my day" and I've no clue how to make them. I'm determined not to quit this time...but it's inevitable. Off go my clothes, out goes my nude self into the night.

 

Of all things, I close my sleep with Letterman. Hall-of-Famer Eddie Murray (?) has hit a home run, and Dave chooses to celebrate by scaling a three-story "building" on his set and sliding all the way to the ground. Freaked out, I can't watch—but I do listen as Dave slides all the way to safety. End vision.

 

 

September 26, 2014

 

After giving my buds the backyard tour of my (sadly fictional) new house, I find myself stuck in a kid's show—more specifically, on the top floor of a 12-story (yes, I counted) castle of some sort. I'm supposed to room with two Muppet-like creatures. One is quietly asleep, the other is singing in its' sleep. 

 

Ticked off, next thing I know I'm at my mom's (fictional) apartment—which is next to an OSH. Outside, two Chinese women are standing by their car for no clear reason. When I pass them, suddenly my mom calls me from behind to help the women lift some heavy package out of the OSH.

 

Clearly, the singing Muppet was in on the plot to lend these women my muscle. And it worked...crap. Didn't even get a tip.

 

 

September 24, 2014

 

I'm hanging out at some house with the hosts of my IRL preferred radio show, Rob, Arnie & Dawn. Two of the neighbors, age 17-19, drop in uninvited and quickly become nuisances. In response, I follow them back home and kill them. (Not 100% sure, but I believe I used a gun.)

Knowing my days as a free man are over, I drive down the end of some lakeside road and slice myself up and down the arms...but wake up before "dying".

 

 

September 23, 2014

 

This is entirely true—again, nothing you read here is made-up. I am standing around shirtless with a sad Ronald McDonald when a kickball comes out of nowhere. I make a pretty snazzy catch of it, cheering the clown up. Next, I go in to find my goldfish lying on top of their tank, but alive, thanks to a small puddle on the tank's top.

 

All I have to say is...?

 

 

September 22, 2014

 

I can't even recall where I was but the following occurences took place: I loaned a black girl part of a newspaper. In another part I read of a film co-starring Joseph-Gordon Levitt and Jonathan Taylor Thomas (what, no James Earl Jones?) Lastly, my cousin is playing Super Mario on the computer in the middle of the night. Oh, and according to my notes, my late uncle William helped pull me up a hill.

 

 

September 21, 2014

 

I am sitting in a parked car on some street. To my right, on the lawn/sidewalk, I see a young kid—no more than 10—stalking a teen kid (about 14) with a look of murder in his eyes. I hide under a blanket—not out of cowardice, but just cuz I don't wanna be seen. I'm still able to see the kid, who appears ready to attack the teen from behind.

 

Suddenly, a mailman appears, thwarting the kid. They both vanish from view, and my attention turns to my aunt's house, which is now suddenly across the street. I walk up to her door just as what appears to be a stray cat does. When she opens it, her cat bolts out of the house after the stray—how the hell did it know the stray was there?! Tonight, it was dangerous to be in my subconscious.

 

 

September 20, 2014

 

Things begin with a crushing Giants walk-off loss to the Phillies, who promptly celebrate by painting Hitler mustaches on themselves. Next, I'm attempting to reach San Francisco via train, but as it turns out the track isn't finished. That doesn't deter the train, which simply proceeds over disconnected rails and wood until we reach the city.

By the way, on the ride up I'm educating Giants SS Brandon Crawford on the history of interleague play.

 

 

September 19, 2014

 

We're having Xmas dinner! A late friend of the family who IRL helped me buy my car 14 years ago, Jackie, has joined us. He does not appear to be enjoying himself. My also-late uncle Bubba also cameos; he is dressed in fatigues to search for his Christmas gift. (What the hell did we get him, live grenades?)

 

Skip to the outside of two apartment buildings. One of which is being worked on by two of my former IRL baseball teammates, who recruit me for assistance. However, when I attempt to walk across a second-floor wooden beam to reach the balcony, the beam cracks, and I make a fast getaway. Meandering next door, I find a sports card "stand", and am offered several free selections as a reward for my "help" on the neighbouring building.

 

Free baseball cards in exchange for accidentally cracking wood. Yeah...seems fair.

 

 

September 18, 2014

 

Hopped all over the place tonight.

• First, I view a mural honoring my (fictional) high school baseball career...which, based on my stats, must've lasted ten years.

• Then, I witness on TV a woman jumping out of a moving amusement park ride to escape a boring octogenarian.

• Next, that same woman complains about her ordeal to Johnny Football, of all people.

• Finally, my IRL bud Juan insists I buy myself an allegedly-healthier clear Gatorade and calls me a corpse when I protest.

 

All of these scenes were continuous—I went straight from Johnny Football to being in a 7-11 parking lot with Juan. There was also a brief segment with my IRL hated ex-roommate but if I give it more than a passing thought my day will be ruined. Yes, I hate her that much.

 

 

September 17, 2014

 

After waiting in a long lunchtime (?) line at CVS to buy two unneeded items, I spent the rest of slumber dealing with unexplained volatility. First, at a library I'm working at with/for an IRL friend's wife, a colleague emerges in the window. For no reason at all I instantly decide I hate him, to the point I'm even conjuring horrible racial thoughts about the guy. Finally I can no longer hold back and I walk to the window and throw three hard punches at him—only to learn he's on the other side of the glass. Instead, I quit the library job.

 

Next, I'm in some office area, where an employee has slighted me. Out for revenge, I believe I see him ducking into a cubicle. Instead it's some strapping 6'8" college kid. Undeterred, I continue my search until reaching a closet. There, behind the door, hides my nemesis—who turns out to be a broom with a head. End vision. I can't make this stuff up.

 

 

September 15, 2014

 

I am shooting warmup baskets with a husky Latino guy and an athletic Latino guy, as well as a few others who kind of materialize from thin air. Eventually a young woman barges onto the court—it seems some friends of hers have taken over the nearby men's room and she wants us to do something about it. The logic of these fictional characters...

 

No one is really concerned, largely cuz the average male looks forward to the chance of witnessing female indecency. But after a while the husky guy (who I HAD been getting along with) threatens me; he thinks I'm blocking him from "gettin' those girls out!" So I stand down as he and the others invade the bathroom—either to eject the interlopers or spy on them, I'm not quite clear. Oh, well. More shots for me.

 

 

September 14, 2014

 

The 1250 is back (lucky me). My grandma has hidden some of my food in the fridge; I search and search and search and can't locate it. As it turns out, my food was never in the fridge and this was all a scam to get me to clean it out. Annoyed, I pee all over the kitchen floor. (These scenes scare me; anytime I pee INV I wake up having to go twice as bad IRL. How many more times can my brain be trusted to override my bladder as I sleep?)

 

 

Nothing Worth Mentioning (September 2-13, 2014)

 

 

September 1, 2014

 

I've returned to my old baseball league and made multiple bare-handed catches while going 4-for-8. But nobody tracked stats so we have no clue what the score is. The dream shifts to a real televised game where Gregor Blanco of the Giants hits a fly to left that the LF loses in the sun—allowing Blanco to go to third! There, he is inexplicably called out by umpire Joe West because he ran through the stop sign of first base coach Bruce Bochy!

 

Obviously, there is protest, but at that exact moment I discover a toothbrush package with West's full explanation of his ruling (that was quick). Apparently if a runner ignores a coach he can be called out by the umpire. Wow. The ruling stands. Wow again.

 

 

 

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