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Sitting at a table with John Lennon, Abraham Lincoln, Eisenhower and PEPPER! We are drinking and laughing and toasting. I recognize the bar as Why Not III or whatever that place was called, we played at n Milwaukee. There is a war outside, it's the suburbs, recognize is as Berwyn. Chaos in the street, running gun battles. We get into a car, different people in the car suddenly, can't place the, but more famous people from history. Jason A is driving, he's squinting and tying to see out the window, I tell him to pull the visor down and he says 'good thinking man' but doesn't do it. I think that's odd, but don't say anything. We turn a corner and stop, I realize it's a trap. Jason A says 'I had to take us here, man, it's cool' I am not pissed at him, feel sad though. Some gangbangers then pop out and spray the car with bullets, machine gun fire. We take stock, everyone is laughing, including me, but I soon realize I've been shot in the back. Jason says 'aww man that totally blows' in a real exaggerated way. I decide to try and get on TV to quell the violence. I am at the station, laying on the front steps, I can't get up to walk but feels like maybe I am faking it so they'll let me in. They don't. I climb up onto a building built next door, I am sitting on a beam, really high up. I am trying to psyche myself up into jumping off. Everything gets to an intense pitch and I decide I've taken it as far as possible and laugh and decide to wake myself up, which is what I do.

There was an important reason that FM Steve needed an alibi. It was less important than in hiding because he ran over Rahm but more important than a nom de plume. The task fell to me and I came up with two options for him, delivered in an envelope in typeset: Sal Bini, or S. Al Bini. This was well-received and then everyone started calling him Bini which Bini did not like at all.Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you: What the fuck?

A dream in which a number of friends and I had bought or were about to buy houses in the same neighborhood, but someone started digging a toxic waste dump behind all the houses. This apparently went to court, and I remember saying Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you: What the fuck?

i was in Italy. lots of architecture and stuff. at one point Janet Ellis made it abundantly clear that she wanted to fellate me. i declined. switch scenes and i see Trey approaching surrounded by paparazzi. he smiles apologetically. i am pleased that i am wearing a Gary t-shirt thus establishing that we have an unimpeachable covalent musibond. i can't help but notice that he not only has bad teeth but is also at least 7'6 tall. i wake up sweaty and weeping wondering just how big Mr Norwood must be.

I dreamed I stumbled across a meeting of a secret cabal that runs world events; there were dignitaries and corporate executives and various heads of state, several religious leaders, and leading the discussion was Wesley Willis. He had faked his death to focus more on nefarious new world order stuff since the music career had become a distraction. He was giving orders in his song delivery style, then ending things by saying "lock down London, lock down Chicago".

I was driving along the interstate, I decide to pull over and sleep because I was picking someone up from the airport and had like an hour till they landed. I fall asleep, which was really an odd feeling, sleeping within a dream, don't think that's happened to me before. I am awoken by a cop tapping on my window, I am a little nervous because I have a shitload of kratom. He searched me and the car and finds it, asks what it is, I say 'it's tea' and another cop says 'it's illegal it's that synthetic weed' I say 'you are a fucking idiot it's not illegal you don't know what the fuck you are talking about' and the cop gets real timid and starts apologizing profusely. The first cop is trying to figure out what to do, I break and run up the embankment. The timid cop starts wailing, crying 'we are sorry, please just leave us alone'I can't figure it out, I pick up a log that is sitting there and start banging it against a boulder, it's making a loud cracking noise. The timid cop is completely overcome with fear, he's laying on the ground screaming a high pitched wail, like a child. He says 'my arms are noodles, I have no grip' I hurl the log down at him and it bounces and hits him, he sits up straight and says 'I can't believe I'm in this predicament' like the punch line of a joke, there might have even been a sad trumpet sound, when he says it. The other cop yells at me ''this is too much, this has gone far enough' I look down and at my feet it looks like some sort of drilling machine is popping up through the dirt, I stomp down at it, then look at my shoes and the bottoms are torn up, I am pissed, I look on my phone at Amazon to order more shoes, I yell 'time out, I need shoes' and everything shuts down, people just mill around like they are on break.

Dreamt a Grouper/Neurosis show. Intense stuff.

A dream fragment right before waking up: in some small, basement theater, I was in the audience for some show that was a big deal for the theater. The MC played guitar, a robin's egg blue hollow body Gretsch that was much, much deeper than any other guitar I'd seen--the body was a foot deep. I thought, I'm going to have to check one of those out. Then I woke up.