tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33813337.post1676731051990219644..comments2023-09-12T06:18:38.552-04:00Comments on The World in the Satin Bag: I Dream of ZombiesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13571452656553970472noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33813337.post-86438498131878353012009-11-10T19:55:43.346-05:002009-11-10T19:55:43.346-05:00Richard: Quite an evocative description. That dr...Richard: Quite an evocative description. That dream must have really stuck with you!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13571452656553970472noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33813337.post-20753211313959411172009-11-10T01:40:16.063-05:002009-11-10T01:40:16.063-05:00I have never had a dream about zombies but I had o...I have never had a dream about zombies but I had one about what I can only describe as a succubus and and incubus, but it was not about saving damsels or anything of that nature.<br /><br />I was riding in the passenger side of my mother's minivan as my father slept in the back seat and my mother drove. We crested a hill and there was a truck carrying a huge camper behind it. A very, VERY attractive blond was trying to flag us down. I am talking about that sort of fake Hollywood teen show attractive that only appears with 6 hours of make-up and an airbrush.<br /><br />Standing a little behind her as we started to pass her on the left was a young man who obviously put a lot of effort into lifting weights and working on a day-glow tan. My mother starts to pull over, but I sense something wrong, almost as if there is murder in his eyes. I tell her, "Drive, just go." My mother starts to accelerate away and the girl starts to scream at us and the man rips off the "STOP" part of a stop sign and just launches it at us. That's right, he RIPPED APART A ROAD SIGN AND THREW IT.<br /><br />By this time we are a good 300 yards away but the sign is gaining. I tell my mother to swerve to the left and I see the thing fly towards the concrete like a meteor to the Earth. It makes an ungodly sound as it rips apart the cement of the road. <br /><br />Then I woke up...threegeekrichardhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14299456274191953102noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33813337.post-44325021537937707112009-11-09T19:23:16.722-05:002009-11-09T19:23:16.722-05:00And here I was thinking that I was unique. Do you...And here I was thinking that I was unique. Do you think that my frequency of zombie dreams are so obviously connected to my love of the film subgenre? I always thought dreams were more...obscure or abstract.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13571452656553970472noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33813337.post-39730033505333065672009-11-09T18:44:59.001-05:002009-11-09T18:44:59.001-05:00Yeah, I dream of zombies all the time too. (I reme...Yeah, I dream of zombies all the time too. (I remember a lot of my dreams, and a lot of them are not about zombies.) I started remembering a lot of zombie dreams before a recent rennaisance of my interest in zombie films/stories, so it isn't entirely the result of too much exposure.<br /><br />But anyway, it's not just you.Djibrilhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06382333338207409292noreply@blogger.com