LURADIO

I was possessed last night. I think, anyway. I was staring at my wall, minding my own when I was driving on a freeway, exiting. In the middle of the exit was a person on the road, looking as if they had been hit. I got out to investigate. They were moving, writhing in agony, but unresponsive to my comments. Weird, I am still awake looking at my wall too. A little kid watching us points out that the person wasn’t hit, he/she fell. I look around and see more people around and more falling from the sky. I was probably in the beginnings of that sleep paralysis cause after the little “dream” left, I couldn’t move at all, and my head felt like it was gonna explode. Literally felt like my brain was put into my skull backwards and was not fitting anymore, then it slowly rotated from the front to the back and all the fiery hate and rage (that wasn’t mine, so i could not understand) dissipated. Then I had to pee.

Did I mention that dudes were falling down on the “dancefloor” and jumping off chairs on Saturday? Oh, I did?

Anyway, no matter. Sometimes you remember at the exact same time why you love and hate to DJ.

I dont think I mentioned that an older woman, obvious former sorority member came up to me and said “There are lots of fathers with their daughters in here right now. Can you play something they can relate to? I know it’s hard, but something like “Play That Funky Music Whiteboy?”

Nod.

“Thanks.”

Yuck, DJing so that drunken fathers may dance with their daughter’s drunken and scantily clad friends? No thank you. It was so uncomfortable for a moment there I wanted to die. Then a bunch of gay dudes and their friends came in and all was right in the world. Then the REALLY drunk girls and the athletes trying to take them home. Then the nice respectful guys who were bringing their girlfriends out. The mood was definitely set by the homo contingency though. They successfully removed the dad-vibe.

Oh, and I think she was there. Ok, no. But someone not unlike her was.

Also, not unlike Golden Bull, there was a tall woman who rolled through wearing something that would not be out of place in a stripping emporium. She just walked in, tore the place up by dancing to like, one song, and rolled out. Just to show people up, I guess.

(By the way, I had a dream that there was a mean purple striped weasel that attacked my apartment. I threw it off the balcony.)

I have a midterm today. The last midterm of my undergrad career. Watch me cry.

…is what I drive. Usually, I am not mad at it. Mobile gigs require a meaty automobile and the mystery machine/green goblin does a bang up job…and for 13 years old, she still runs real nice, taking crazy San Francisco hills without protest. Just wanted to give her a shout out.

Anyway, so I had this dream (obviously informed by a day spent driving around the city and almost getting into a bunch of accidents) on Saturday. If youve driven in the bay, you know that the bridge situation is on some nightmare status even when youre dumb awake, but in my dream that ish was taken to a whole other level.

Basically:

We get on the bridge, i think im good. the damn thing takes us to central california and we are off roading in the 93 aerostar.

Then:

I gotta drive up this crazy hill in the 93 turqouise aerostizzy. Pretty much vertical. Really extreme.

I had a dream last night where I yelled, in all seriousness:

“I’M THE NORM CHOW OF THIS DJ SHIT, SON!”

*Aside from being just a weird thing to be of the DJ world, I should remind people that this is also saying “I AM MY MOM’S 8TH GRADE HOMEROOM AND TYPING TEACHER OF THIS DJ SHIT, SON!” or “I AM THE GUY WHO MY DAD REPLACED AS FOOTBALL COACH AT WAIALUA HIGH SCHOOL OF THIS DJ SHIT, SON!”

(my fam has quite the Norm Chow connection)

go norm chow. (by the way: we all know USC would have won if he was still there.)

Maybe I’ll explain later, but my dream consisted of Hugo Chavez, Pharrell, the world cup, Supreme, alife, Colin Powell, Zombie pirates and NBC. Yell.