![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Mar. 30th, 2003
The telephone is my best friend.
Mar. 30th, 2003 11:43 amWell, actually, the Darkside on the other end of the telephone is my best friend, but the phone itself isn't such a bad thing, seeing as it gets me in communication with him.
Updated him on a few of the major things (Votania's uncle's death, the chickenpox locally, and that one other thing).
My timing was abysmal, as he was headed for the shower, but we did get a few minutes in.
Updated him on a few of the major things (Votania's uncle's death, the chickenpox locally, and that one other thing).
My timing was abysmal, as he was headed for the shower, but we did get a few minutes in.
The concert hall at UAF was getting modded. Sister-universe or same to the dream that involved the theatre and the bookstore and the escalator down the stairs to the theatre department. All the platforms...
But anyway, my dear Dave (the one who was stationed in Germany at last knowledge) was somehow involved with the concert hall getting all plush and carpeted, like a giant cat toy theatre only with gravity that you could play in, or I was suddenly able to fly or something. And I bounced around in there. And then there was a concert, and I sat next to a woman, someone I knew online but not too well, and she had fantastic boobs and I wound up half-passed-out in her lap, having smeared the side of her dress with lipstick where it went over her boob when leaning against her. And Dave was sitting on her other side, and I really really wanted to get it on with both of them.
And then I was home and I think checking Kittenhate and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
elance showed me this cool new sex toy that was called "the paintbrush" -- a vibrator with a paintbrush head made out of that soft plastic fiber used in scrubby things. And it was gooooooood. I tried it. And yaksha42 was using the clue stick on me, only it wasn't quite right... and I wanted to take it and put it in backwards and use it in place of a strap-on to fuck somebody, only there weren't any girls I could do around, and it wouldn't work quite that well to use that on him, so I was pretty much fucked, only not...
...and then the room was up against the street and there were people and there were buses and we were going places, and I recognized the statue of idealized abstract stick type figures analyzed in the newspaper as something I'd seen in previous times (a previous dream where there was running about with stuff in that one neighborhood that felt like it was in flagstaff with snow), and it was a fiberglass and tinfoil statue, and the woman was wearing some sort of ceremonial haircovering...
...and then there was something where we had to scatter... we'd been marching through the neighborhood where the bus angled off to drop off those kids, the Bad Neighborhood that was on the swamp/permafrost by the U, just before the turnoff to ballaine, and we had to go places fast, and we zipped up to the university and around to find the usual hideout, and swung down through the U to the place by the high school that was the duck police facility, and the person I was in ducked down there 'cause that was one of the hills to hide behind, only it didn't seem to be working, and I was blogging it as it was happening, and Dennis K. left a comment in it because he recognized it, even though he and I aren't really friends, more sort of estranged could have been friends. And the duck police trainees were really really cute, and all the ducklings had just one police hat to share, and there had had to be regulation put in place before they could be issued the hat because taking the hat off a police officer is Bad Juju and you can get arrrested for it, but duck police were defined as always wearing their hats, 'cause they were ducks. And I picked up one really cute one with batlike wings with the claws on the tip, and he was kinda yellowpink, you know how yellow that kind of baby ducks are, dyed pink, and taught him to flap his wings and fly and the whole office just flipped 'cause he had never been able to fly before.
Andamberfox was supposed to be meeting up with us, I think with metaphorge in tow, but I woke up, I think...
But anyway, my dear Dave (the one who was stationed in Germany at last knowledge) was somehow involved with the concert hall getting all plush and carpeted, like a giant cat toy theatre only with gravity that you could play in, or I was suddenly able to fly or something. And I bounced around in there. And then there was a concert, and I sat next to a woman, someone I knew online but not too well, and she had fantastic boobs and I wound up half-passed-out in her lap, having smeared the side of her dress with lipstick where it went over her boob when leaning against her. And Dave was sitting on her other side, and I really really wanted to get it on with both of them.
And then I was home and I think checking Kittenhate and
elance showed me this cool new sex toy that was called "the paintbrush" -- a vibrator with a paintbrush head made out of that soft plastic fiber used in scrubby things. And it was gooooooood. I tried it. And yaksha42 was using the clue stick on me, only it wasn't quite right... and I wanted to take it and put it in backwards and use it in place of a strap-on to fuck somebody, only there weren't any girls I could do around, and it wouldn't work quite that well to use that on him, so I was pretty much fucked, only not... ...and then the room was up against the street and there were people and there were buses and we were going places, and I recognized the statue of idealized abstract stick type figures analyzed in the newspaper as something I'd seen in previous times (a previous dream where there was running about with stuff in that one neighborhood that felt like it was in flagstaff with snow), and it was a fiberglass and tinfoil statue, and the woman was wearing some sort of ceremonial haircovering...
...and then there was something where we had to scatter... we'd been marching through the neighborhood where the bus angled off to drop off those kids, the Bad Neighborhood that was on the swamp/permafrost by the U, just before the turnoff to ballaine, and we had to go places fast, and we zipped up to the university and around to find the usual hideout, and swung down through the U to the place by the high school that was the duck police facility, and the person I was in ducked down there 'cause that was one of the hills to hide behind, only it didn't seem to be working, and I was blogging it as it was happening, and Dennis K. left a comment in it because he recognized it, even though he and I aren't really friends, more sort of estranged could have been friends. And the duck police trainees were really really cute, and all the ducklings had just one police hat to share, and there had had to be regulation put in place before they could be issued the hat because taking the hat off a police officer is Bad Juju and you can get arrrested for it, but duck police were defined as always wearing their hats, 'cause they were ducks. And I picked up one really cute one with batlike wings with the claws on the tip, and he was kinda yellowpink, you know how yellow that kind of baby ducks are, dyed pink, and taught him to flap his wings and fly and the whole office just flipped 'cause he had never been able to fly before.
And
amberfox was supposed to be meeting up with us, I think with metaphorge in tow, but I woke up, I think...