DREAM: HINDU PEZ

I have been thinking of putting more of my dreams on here since they can sometimes be quite entertaining and I also hear opening up can supposedly be therapeutic. Now it's not to say all of my dreams are noteworthy, capable of being described and I definitely won't put too many of my gruesome nightmares on here either. I think me waking up on a nightly basis from horrible dreams is too much as it is. I don't need to drag you, the unsuspecting reader, into my sleepless chaos. Last nights dream though wasn't bad nor was it astounding by any means but I found it enjoyable, so here it is.

I was on tour with my homie Gabe (who's on currently on tour right now with Red This Ever), the man behind Hindu Pez. If you haven't heard his brain thrashing noise yet and you have a penchant for industrial, check him out. Anyways, I was handling stage and venue design as well as filling the role of merchandise dude for his stuff and of course lastdeviant apparel and designs. I was setting up the merch booth and out of the corner of my eye I noticed this ginormous bouncer lumbering my direction. This feeling crept over me that he was either going to barf on me some stupid question or give me shit and make an attempt to prove his alpha male status. Regardless, I turned my back to him and kept right on working until I felt one of his fat, grimy, meat sticks tap me on the shoulder.

I then hear him mutter, "I hear you guys are a couple of pussies."

I slowly turn around to size up the dish of trouble I was being fed this time. There he stood, a huge moronic pile of testosterone, that looked like the hellish offspring of Trent Reznor and Frankenstien's monster. I knew I probably couldn't take him in a full on fight but seeing as I am a Garcia, I tend to make dumb choices and I do own a pair, I wasn't about to back down.

So I replied, "I'll tango with you anytime, Gumby."

His brow furrowed and the oaf proceeded to charge, grabbing me around my waste with his head at my side. As I'm being freighttrained backwards, I tuck my arm under his chin and securely around his throat. Then I swung off my feet so as to put all my weight on his tree trunk of a neck. He stumbled in his charge, landing him face first into the concrete and we both rolled into the middle of the empty mosh pit. I hopped up to my feet prepared for the onslaught and inevitable face pounding I knew I was about to receive. But as he slowly regained his footing, he gave me a bit of a smirk, nodded, then snorted off to do whatever it is piles of mindless bouncer meat do.

I went on to successfully sell the hell out of my shirts and wares. Gabe had one rocking' ass show as well. As for the stage design, I created this awesome, smoke billowing, platform with moving pieces of sharp scrap metal and barbed wire that revolved around him. Every now and again a piece would move to reveal some creepy little demon with glowing red eyes hidden in the background. So when it would go black as pitch during his set and all you would see was a wall of red eyes everywhere behind him. Needless to say, it was killer.

Too bad it was only a dream but maybe it's a sign that Gabe and I will do well on each of our perspective ventures, even if we aren't on the road together. Here's to our prosperous futures Mr. Perry.