<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706</id><updated>2011-12-13T19:55:04.418-08:00</updated><category term='warehouse'/><category term='blowjob'/><category term='nightmare'/><category term='cousin'/><category term='pineapple juice'/><category term='blood'/><category term='aliens'/><category term='dream'/><category term='angela lansbury'/><category term='key chain'/><category term='theater'/><category term='super powers'/><category term='book'/><category term='earthquake'/><category term='starcraft'/><category term='soda'/><category term='final exam'/><category term='test'/><category term='warcraft'/><category term='bar'/><category term='big knife'/><category term='chase'/><category term='run away'/><category term='LAN party'/><category term='mystery'/><category term='taco bell'/><category term='time travel'/><category term='geography'/><category term='high school'/><category term='shop'/><category term='locker room'/><category term='alaska'/><category term='weird'/><category term='abandoned'/><category term='snow'/><category term='work'/><category term='cars'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>The Darkside</title><subtitle type='html'>Beware the Jabberwock my son.&lt;br /&gt;
Entertain not the reaper.&lt;br /&gt;
Flee from the temptress.&lt;br /&gt;
And be true to thyself.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>109</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-6800794153121409736</id><published>2009-12-25T05:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T05:53:56.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The nightmare before Chrismas</title><content type='html'>The Dreams:&lt;br /&gt;I went to some kind of concert with some friends, but this part is faded and vague in my memory.&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to the mall. Aaaaaaaaaaah! No that's not the scary part. heh.&lt;br /&gt;We were walking when one of the girls suddenly stopped at a makeup kiosk and started asking me what color lip stick she should get. Apparently she was insane. I told her pink. She asked which pink. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Okay, that's not the scary part either. lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then one friend and I went home.&lt;br /&gt;We were in the garage talking about how I thought some friends were going to try and scare us by pretending there were aliens in the house. It was dark, but the garage light was on. It flickered and then I saw the body of the lipstick girl on the ground and she had peed pants and I was pretty she was pretending to freak us out. Then I saw a guy run past her freaked out and then the head of an alien. I moved towards her for some crazy reason. When I got in the kitchen the alien wasn't there. She was definitely dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream 2:&lt;br /&gt;I came back to dream one at first. This time I was at the house and was role playing the alien thing with my wife. She was inside I was like a GM watching over her. I asked her where she wanted to go and she said the back yard. Then I asked which way in the yard. One way took her across the windows. I now floated backwards and saw that an alien was in the living room and would see her even if she crawled along the ground if she went one way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream 3: Not sure what triggered the change, probably got woken up by cranky baby just enough to change but not enough to wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in the predator ship facing the predator. He was looking at me and I was wondering if we had a truce or not. And was anticipating his buddies showing up any second. Next thing I know I'm surrounded by aliens and the predator is standing there. I look at the predator hoping he'll save me and he's just standing there holding some kind of gun thing. I keep thinking I hope he doesn't shoot them while they are standing next to me because the acid splash would not be nice. The aliens stand still. No idea what happened but next thing I know, they are gone and I'm standing alone in the hall by the trophy wall. I see the alien skull with many other skulls. I go through a small round portal and end up in the cockpit of the ship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 of the predators jump through the hole after me and then I woke up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-6800794153121409736?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/6800794153121409736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=6800794153121409736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6800794153121409736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6800794153121409736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/12/nightmare-before-chrismas.html' title='The nightmare before Chrismas'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3973770968954631683</id><published>2009-08-28T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T10:55:31.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The House the Strange People Built</title><content type='html'>In my dream a few nights ago, we bought a house from and old family friend: Susan Palm. I think she was selling because she had to move, not really sure. I do recall that she looked like she did about a decade or so ago, but I was more current age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The house had a living room with a vaulted ceiling and you could see there was a nice loft like area up above where some of the bedrooms were. She let me know that she had rented the top half of the house to someone for another 6 months and as part of the deal I would let them live up there for the rest of the contract.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice huge house at a good price so I had no problem with that. 6 months of rent would actually help us out. I vaguely recall the final payment amount worked out to about $3000 per month. And the renters were paying $1000 per month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I vaguely recall running into the renters, but not what was said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went around a corner behind the steps and found a toilet sitting next to a storage area under the steps. The rest of the house was a light almost sea spray green, but this area was a much darker blue green favoring the blue. There was a filing cabinet in one corner that was up against some kind of large black box. As I was checking it out a midget came cartwheeling into the area (this was not the renter I'd talked to earlier). When he stopped I noticed that his arms and legs were cut off at about the knees/elbows. He looked at me and said: "Check it out. I bet I can hide between these." and he motioned at the black thing and the filing cabinet which only had a few inches of space between them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, though, he turned his head in and squeezed right into the spot. The black box looked metal but had a bit of flex to it, not much though. Next thing I know he's calling his mom and telling her bet she can't find him. In comes cartwheeling and older lady midget with the same exact legs and arms problem. She couldn't find him until he poked his head out. At this point I noticed there was a dark area behind the filing cabinet so the guy gets out of the way and I move the cabinet and find a little cubby area behind it. Inside are some really, really old magazines and newspapers that I decide must be worth a fortune so I decide to take them to an antique store or maybe antiques road show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This part of the dream fades away and the next part I remeber, I'm sitting in a room with a ton of relatives including my Grandparents on my Dad's side. Not only is she alive, but she looks like she did in my childhood and is clearly still married to Grandpa, who also looks much younger. My dad and Uncles are there and someone is in a bed, but I can't recall who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point the dream ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3973770968954631683?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3973770968954631683/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3973770968954631683' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3973770968954631683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3973770968954631683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/08/house-strange-people-built.html' title='The House the Strange People Built'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-6909894587997957158</id><published>2009-07-26T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T10:12:57.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The banker and the jeweler</title><content type='html'>Continuing the school theme again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a University with Darin, Carlos, Eric and someone else, might have been Adam. We were all going there and it was lunch time so we went to the cafeteria. I recall standing in line and going out to where the tables were. It was a very cool veranda on a dock thing. You had an awesome view of the sea. I remember walking out holding my food tray and then looking at my wallet for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wallet had 2 parts held together be velcro. As I pulled it out of my pocket one part fell on the floor and the other part was nowhere to be found. I started to panic and Darin commented that it was a dumb design for a wallet. I agreed and ran back to the other side to look for it. I just couldn't find it. I was missing some money, a couple credit and my ID.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I need to hit an ATM for some reason. But I had Kesi, Arriana and N'tan with me now. I went to an ATM in front of a jewelry store. For who knows what reason I let them go into the jewelry store while I used the ATM. The ATM was a small box made of mostly clear plastic with a weird black dial on it. There was voice activation also. It kept asking me inane questions. Like the usual, mother's maiden name, but this is an ATM! I started getting frustrated cause I couldn't get my money! I looked down and realized I wasn't wearing pants, so I put some papers I was holding over the front of my undies. I looked into the jewelry store and realized that the kids were wearing jewelry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried vainly to get my money again, then gave up because now the ATM had a line. I went in the store and the kids were covered in diamonds. Tiaras, necklaces, bracelets, the works. I was bout to get mad when I noticed the old lady sales people were adoring the kids. One looked at me and said it was fine. The manager, however, didn't seem so pleased. He walked up and informed me that I could have it all for only $32,000! "That's only $10,000 per child." I scoffed, but realized he was definitely implying buy or get out. I gathered the children and returned the jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a little more but I don't recall anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-6909894587997957158?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/6909894587997957158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=6909894587997957158' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6909894587997957158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6909894587997957158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/07/banker-and-jeweler.html' title='The banker and the jeweler'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8520024584264915554</id><published>2009-07-23T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T09:26:49.972-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Administrator Carrero</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I went to a High school for a job interview to be the Principal, but they kept calling it the Administrator. I walked around the school a little bit first to get a feel of it. For some reason I was wearing a nice shirt and tie and sports jacket with sweat pants.&lt;br /&gt;The students were fairly cordial and I recognized a few. I can't recall now who they were for sure, but I think they were all people I used to know who were 10 years or so younger than me. (A bit old to be in High School now, heh.)&lt;br /&gt;One of the teachers was also someone I knew but I can't recall who now either.&lt;br /&gt;After awhile I started looking for the Principal's office, but I couldn't find it, so I called the guy I had the interview with. He started talking about how they were looking for a Janitor job, too, but the Janitor might be coming back so it could be temporary.&lt;br /&gt;He then started asking me interview type questions. Every now and again I asked him where we should meet, but he'd dodge the question. While I wondered trying to figure it out for myself and answering his questions I ran into my stepdad sitting in a waiting type area outside the offices.&lt;br /&gt;I instantly realized he was waiting to get the Janitor job. I quickly explained to him, while keeping up my phone conversation, that the job might be very temporary. As I did this one of the other guys, who was apparently also waiting for that, left. My step-dad nodded to let me know he got it, but I knew he was pretty desperate for a job. I then headed back through the offices and found an empty one the looked a lot like it should be the Administrator's office but it was really tiny.&lt;br /&gt;I looked to the side of because a lady walked past me. There was a hallway mostly blocked by square lockers stacked up on the floor. There wasn't enough space for me to squeeze through but it looked like this lead to somewhere else. I felt like maybe a teacher's lounge.&lt;br /&gt;I turned to leave and saw my step-dad again. It's a little fuzzy what happened next, but I remember the phone call ended and I finally found the interview guy. It was Richard Dreyfuss. He told me I did very well and passed the test. I was going to get the job. There were some introductions and at some point I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8520024584264915554?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8520024584264915554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8520024584264915554' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8520024584264915554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8520024584264915554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/07/administrator-carrero.html' title='Administrator Carrero'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3867154945637120861</id><published>2009-06-26T08:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-26T09:11:33.235-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bars and stars</title><content type='html'>Couple nights ago I had a dream where Melissa and I went to a bar/restaurant place. This was more bar than restaurant though. Lots of people, many wearing leather jackets. It strikes me we were looking for something or someone.&lt;br /&gt;At some point we had to start running from somebody, so we went into a hallway behind the bar that had some small businesses in it. One of the businesses was actually open so we ducked in there.&lt;br /&gt;Turns out it was a small church having a service. We stood there for a few minutes as their service ended with a song. For some reason I talked to the pastor, but in this dream there were no words. It was like we just somehow knew what was needed to be known.&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know the pastor has donned a red head band and sleeveless brown leather jacket and is sitting on a huge motorcycle. Some kind of Harley but totally modded. The rear tire was huge. I jumped in back and he started to take off. I vaguely remember that someone else was gonna take Melissa and that we were fleeing from some kind of criminal gang, maybe a mob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a dream that the whole family was up in Oregon; I'm guessing Portland area. We were crashing at someone's place. I recall getting up and thinking I had to get to class. I walked outside and my cousin, Tony, was there so we carpooled to the college.&lt;br /&gt;When we got there we realized it was Saturday so there were no classes! Doh. I went to turn around but Tony said he had stuff to do anyway. So I went back without him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets a little jumbled here. Not sure how much is not remembering versus dream weirdity. I recall being at the house (a beat up old victorian) and seeing our baby, Kai. I held him then I saw Melissa. I said something about having stuff to do and then I recall seeing Tony in a truck in the driveway. I gave Melissa the baby and got in my truck (don't have one in real life, both trucks were huge Ford F-350s, older ones). I recall us both going up the street in separate trucks, but for some reason Tony got out of his and into mine and there was something about me taking him back to his and us carpooling to save gas. Why we didn't start that back at the house I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed into town, it strikes me we were going to school again, but this time we decided to cut class because I saw a county fair like thing going on and wanted to see if I could find any old friends of mine. (Almost like Tony and I had time looped back to earlier in the morning).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went by the festival thing, but for some reason we couldn't stop. I swore I saw an old buddy so I yelled his name out the window: "Dusty". (This is silly because Dusty was an old buddy from Santa Cruz, CA not Oregon!) &lt;br /&gt;I was able to stop in an old abandoned parking lot a little ways away. Soon Dusty caught up with us and I was stoked at seeing an old buddy. We talked a little when a buddy of his came up and Dusty asked if I remembered him. I looked. It struck me that I should but I just couldn't place him. He then walked right up to me and flipped up his sunglasses. It was weird because they weren't the kind that could flip up, so he was still wearing shaded lens, but somehow they had changed a little so I could see his eyes, which were an eerie shade of blue. The almost looked like they were swirling, but I still didn't recognize him. At this point I'm not sure what we said, but something to the affect of catching them again later, but having to go since it was getting dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tony and I jumped back in the truck and started driving. It got dark, really dark and the windshield of the truck fell off. I had to grab it real quick. It was like it had turned into one of those glass windows in the back of a camper shell that flips up. The top was only held on by 5 flimsy plastic clasps. I was desperately trying to get them to rehook, while Tony took over driving and pulled us to the side of the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once pulled over, I got out and started fiddling with the clasps but 3 of them seemed to be broken and the glass refused to stay attached with only the other 2 holding. As I was doing this, I felt something brush my leg. I turned and saw wolves walking back and forth on the side of the road. I told Tony to turn the headlights on but now I realized the whole front end of the truck was missing. It was as if a giant sword had cut of the engine compartment and dashboard. I wasn't too worried, but I knew we needed to get out of there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it gets weirder. The wolves started gathering around us, so we started moving with me holding the windshield in place, but we couldn't move very fast. (And, yes, the front end was still missing so I don't know how we moved at all!) The wolves circled the truck and then all of a sudden it was morning and they scattered. We were relieved, but then it flashed to night again and the wolves' eyes glowed in the headlights. We stopped and a car went buy us. The headlight glow disappeared and it was pitch black for a second. Then it was morning again and Tony and I just drove away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fairly sure I woke up at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3867154945637120861?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3867154945637120861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3867154945637120861' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3867154945637120861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3867154945637120861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/06/bars-and-stars.html' title='Bars and stars'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8920242139729430964</id><published>2009-05-28T08:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T08:54:04.507-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spy and chase</title><content type='html'>There was a beginning part to this dream, but its near gone. I vaguely recall infiltrating some terrorist organization with some buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first part that is coming back to me was a group of us going to this very nice old house where there was a meeting going on for this group. The house had a mini theater that even had tiered seating. A ton of people were there listening to a guy speak from a podium. I wasn't paying any attention to what he was saying, I was looking for our contact. Someone else was taking care of noting what the guy said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got up and changed seats when I noticed Sayid from Lost walking down the aisle. I quickly ducked into a seat next to one of our guys. I warned him to keep his face covered because Sayid was coming. After Sayid sat down a few rows down, we looked up and around again. I told the other person I didn't know why Sayid was here and that I was going to find our contact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was leaving the theater I found her. The contact was a 12 year old little girl. She held my hand and gave me a tour of the place under the guise of me taking her to the restroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She pointed out where the back rooms and the big stuff was going down. I went towards the doors, but she told me she wasn't allowed back there it could blow our cover. So I told her to wait in the hall and I approached alone. One of the doors was partially open, so I creept up to it and listened. I could see part way into the room and there was a single guy standing over a folding table looking at some papers. I think one of them was a map. I was trying to get a better look when the door swung open. I ducked around a corner and ended up in the kitchen with several people just looking at me. I waved and kept walking through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a little fuzzy but I met up with the girl and several other people in my group in the foyer. They were leaving and noted that the "talk" was over and somehow they may have been noticed. We hurried out of the house. As soon as I got out the door, I grabbed the girl's hand and started running. I looked back and noticed we had been spotted by a guard, but one of our guys took him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped into a white suv that looked a bit like the old style hummers. It had 4 tubes on the top and one tube on each side. As it turns out these were rocket launchers, because I immediately stuffed a rocket into the driver side one and blasted it into one of the vans the bad guys were getting into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chase scene is really fuzzy. I recall a train and a crash and losing the hummer truck thing and then trying to hide and get away. Somehow me and the girl ended up riding with a British bobby in one of those tiny bobby cop cars they have a British TV that are comically tiny. He was speeding through the streets helping us get away because he believed us and knew that there was corruption at the station so we needed to get to someone higher up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember being on a semi rural road by train tracks when we pulled over at a junk yard and he went in leaving us in the car. I recall seeing one of the bad guys up the road a bit cross the railroad tracks, but the rest is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8920242139729430964?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8920242139729430964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8920242139729430964' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8920242139729430964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8920242139729430964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/05/spy-and-chase.html' title='Spy and chase'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1073076181508445000</id><published>2009-05-26T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T08:44:40.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hardcore snow</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, I was practicing baseball with some friends at a park with a baseball diamond. It was my turn up at bat but when I got to the box, I realized I forgot to bring a bat so I turned away to grab one but the pitcher threw the ball anyway. I turned and snagged it with my empty right hand right before it would have hit my leg. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was about to chuck it back to her when the sky grew dark. I looked up and saw clouds rolling in. I turned to the catcher and told her: "We can still play for a little while, but that it's going to rain. Trust me, I know rain. I can smell it coming. We have maybe ten minutes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then looked up again and saw really neat cloud formations in the distance over the hills. The clouds looked like they were streaking downwards. Similar to real life except much more dramatic, it almost looked like mini-funnels flowing to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it started to mildy hail, which put everyone into a panic and they started running for their cars. I walked. As I walked I watched as a huge blanket of snow just dropped and completely covered the snack shack in one shot. This startled me. I looked up and watched as, in the distance, whole clouds seemed to be falling to the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not far to my left a "cloud" of snow fell onto the baseball field. I started moving faster to my car. I was almost to it when a huge blanket of snow fell on it and the car in front of it, completely covering both. I was just standing there pondering it when I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1073076181508445000?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1073076181508445000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1073076181508445000' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1073076181508445000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1073076181508445000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/05/hardcore-snow.html' title='Hardcore snow'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2209055432212320493</id><published>2009-05-25T07:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T07:47:55.232-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Home grown business</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was working with some real life friends, Jaimie and Jason Olson in a mini-mart/conference room place that someone they knew owned. When you walked in it had a variety of junk food goodies on the right side that were stacked up on palettes like costco. The conference rooms were fun style with games and stuff in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember having one person walk in with a request for us to host 46 people and we said yes, just as Jason was talking a phone reservation. He ended up turning down the phone reservation, so I took the lady's money since she paid in all cash. I put the small bills in the register then walked through the store looking for Jaimie to tell her we aught to put the rest in the safe since it was near $1500 worth of cash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I started walking around the place making suggestions, including that we should really clear out some of the minimart space to make room for more conference room space since that was the real money maker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recall vaguely doing some work then I was somehow watching the owner talking with Jason. He had video of me working through out the day and was bashing everything I did. He didn't like how I was dressed or how my hair looked. He felt I was lazy and some other stuff. Jason told him that it wasn't true, I was a hard worker and I had some pretty good ideas, but he just blew him off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2209055432212320493?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2209055432212320493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2209055432212320493' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2209055432212320493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2209055432212320493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/05/home-grown-business.html' title='Home grown business'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-9196838854618517995</id><published>2009-05-23T12:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T12:05:47.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Camp</title><content type='html'>In last night's dream, Melissa and I were camp counselors at a NVCF's youth group summer camp. The old youth pastor, Doug, from when we were in the youth group ourselves was the pastor (he's now the head pastor of Life Church). We were running around helping with activities and stuff. Melissa got really exhausted so I took her to one of the cabins so she could lay down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot is fuzzy around this point, but I recall eventually heading to the swimming pool. It was really huge! 3 tiers of pool with water slides connecting the tiers. A lot of students were swimming and generally having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is all I can recall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-9196838854618517995?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/9196838854618517995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=9196838854618517995' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/9196838854618517995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/9196838854618517995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/05/summer-camp.html' title='Summer Camp'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4871036873787819080</id><published>2009-05-21T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T09:08:13.027-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A house.</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night Melissa and I were house shopping. The agent showed us a place he said we'd love. It seemed nice enough. When we got inside one of the things we would "love" was a weird ladder staircase thing that went up to and around a bedroom. It was bizarre and kinda hard to navigate, but it was really neat. The top part was actually a folding stair almost like you would see to get into an attic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The middle part is a little fuzzy, but I vaguely remember putting in an offer and leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I returned to the place with my mother and step-dad. They were acting like they were going to buy the place and all of us would live there and VERY strangely I was fine with this. We started checking out what needed to be fixed. I recall marking parts of the weird stairwell -ladder thing with pen to show what we be kept and what would be tossed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my step dad and I went to the foyer part of the house and started inspecting the wood floor because the boards were loose. I recall getting a little distressed when we moved some of them and were able to see down below. I looked at him and complained. At this point I realized my step dad was Jack Nicholson. He looked at me and said "It's okay, this is why you have me. I'm the handy guy. We'll fix it up real nice." I recall being reassured by this and I helped him haul a floor sander into the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point the agent showed up to show some other people the house. He got frustrated and told us we can't just come in because we didn't own the house yet! He was sure the current owners would appreciate the help with the repairs, but things were not finalized yet and we shouldn't be there. The couple that was with him freaked that we were there and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4871036873787819080?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4871036873787819080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4871036873787819080' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4871036873787819080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4871036873787819080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/05/house.html' title='A house.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4496902642141205922</id><published>2009-05-20T08:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T08:14:49.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I went back to High School. I even brought my 11 month old son, Kai, with me. I got to my class late and all the seats were already taken. This one girl kept being a total jerk to me about finding a seat. I returned her insults but mine were way over her head and the other students so they just looked at me blankly. I think she even laughed and said "whatever". Eventually, I just took a spot on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I knew it was after class, so I went to my locker. Some nerd followed my babbling on about me being "the one". Yes, a la Matrix, I even recall making comment that this guy must be some Matrix nut. I opened my locker grabbed some stuff and was so distracted by the Matrix nut that I didn't realize I left my locker key in the locker. I was getting annoyed at this when the Matrix nut told me we have to leave "they are coming".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He took off and this other kid came up to me pretending to be Goro from Mortal Kombat. I laughed at him and went back to my locker problem, but he kicked me. I kicked him back. I then tried another key to open the locker and he kicked me again. I turned around and started to yell at him when I realized that there were a bunch of people wearing monk's cloaks standing there. I turned and tried the key one more time, then noticed several lockers missing doors had paper grocer bags marked "the one" on them, so I grabbed them and started running away from the freaky people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4496902642141205922?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4496902642141205922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4496902642141205922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4496902642141205922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4496902642141205922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/05/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-6412491694508232202</id><published>2009-03-10T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T08:43:52.395-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big knife'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='super powers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='aliens'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Alien assault</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, I was in the research center from Alien Ressurection. I entered the chamber where the aliens first escaped by killing one of their own in the movie just after that occurrence. I looked around out the window which was now broken and saw some of the aliens still moving around outside freeing their brethren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I jumped out the window and climbed a ledge to a door. Once through the door I was in a hallway and I started to look around for a place to hide when I realized that anywhere a person would want to hide would be right where the aliens were hunting. I jumped up grabbed two pipes and started to swing myself up but couldn't make it, so I dropped back down and went out another door and found myself in a long dark hallway that was huge. The ceiling was at least 25 feet high and the width about 15 feet. &lt;br /&gt;I was with others though. One guy was freezing the aliens as they came at us and I was shooting fire at them causing them to break from the massive temperature change. Well, it was more like shooting intense heat that sometimes was accompanied by fire. A third person was tackling the semi frozen aliens that didn't immediately break. Apparently, the ice-fire combination somehow neutralized their acid blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were holding the fort at this hall because we knew it was the only way the aliens could get out. We kept finding other people to rescue as we did this. After the aliens started showing up less and less frequently, we decided to regroup right outside the hallway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I left and looked back at the "hallway" I realized it was a giant tent thing. We were outside in the broad daylight with a bunch of people we rescued. We checked on a few of them and decided the only way to finish off the aliens was to go back in and slowly torch the entire tent while they were trapped inside. I looked around for a weapon but only found a wicked looking dual bladed knife. Some big dude said we should just torch the whole thing, so he and I got in a fight that ended with me holding the serrated edge of the knife to his neck and telling him if he wanted to be a coward and run that was fine, but we would do the right thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we went back in. I used my right hand to toss heat and fire at the aliens and the tent behind us so that it burned as we moved forward making sure nothing got past. The frost guy and the pummeling girl went with me. She asked how we were going to burn it down so I torched a bed near the entrance and we watched as the fire built up for a second. And it became clear that if we didn't do our best we weren't going to make it. So we started moving forward as more aliens started coming at us. One of the aliens had a very human shaped skull, but was still the same black shiny color of other aliens, but it refused to freeze, so the pummeling girl jumped on its back and started beating it while I stabbed it with the knife, unfortunately, this also meant that sever small scorpion like aliens were starting to defrost, so I grabbed a metal pole and started smashing them while pummeling girl finished off the human skull alien. They all bled thick blue blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we continued forward burning the path behind us we found a bed with someone hiding under it so we took them with us. After turning the corner past the bed the tent disappeared and became a paved road running through a huge grassy field. But we all acted like this was just fine and kept going forward toward a city like thing in the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely recall at one point turning around and thinking we couldn't go further or something. But the rest is too fuzzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The knife looked something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lukes.pbwiki.com/" target=blank1&gt;&lt;img src="http://lukes.pbwiki.com/f/coolknife.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blade was blackened and about 12 inches long and the handle was a neat looking cross hatch with leather. The hilt was a round black metal with a finger grip. The blade was razor sharp on one side and nastily serrated on the other and could lock in 2 positions: straight out and at a slight angle towards the finger grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-6412491694508232202?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/6412491694508232202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=6412491694508232202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6412491694508232202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6412491694508232202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/03/alien-assault.html' title='Alien assault'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-699373642149456500</id><published>2009-03-09T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T09:47:41.283-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='final exam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='test'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='geography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Finals! Argh</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was running late to get to the final exam in one of my college classes. By the time I found the right room I was already several minutes late. The class was apparently a geography class, but the final was not in the normal classroom, it was in what looked like a shop classroom. There were only a few desks and some students were using various shop machines to do their exam. I was forced to work on a lathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The test was an open write test with only one question:&lt;br /&gt;Using what we've learned in class describe an island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly had massive writer's block. I couldn't recall any terms from the class (which makes sense from a real life perspective since it's been ages since I took any kind of geography class) and I couldn't even get a feel for where to start.&lt;br /&gt;I stared at the blank page on my paper for sometime before the instructor came over and asked what were the papers under my lined paper. I hadn't even realized they were there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the papers was something that looked like a typed out version of this test. It started with someone describing the weather of the island, but had blank spots with lines under them like a fill in the blank test. The name on top of the page was something like Truong Dang (it's starting to fade now).&lt;br /&gt;The instructor told me no notes and if it was anyone else he'd have failed me as I tried to explain that I hadn't seen those papers and they must have been left on the "desk" from a previous class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then went back to work but my paper had shrunk to only about 3 inches square and was now covered with random pen scribblings I had jotted down. I asked if anyone had some extra paper I could use. After a few minutes finally two people each handed me a sheet but I was still drawing a blank on getting any good details. I tried to recall what little I'd seen typed on the other paper and started randomly putting more ideas on the new paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely recall looking out and see the last rays of light in the hills through the open door. Something about a motorcycle and my pen getting jammed up on the grooves of the lathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-699373642149456500?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/699373642149456500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=699373642149456500' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/699373642149456500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/699373642149456500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/03/finals-argh.html' title='Finals! Argh'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8863328096296453214</id><published>2009-02-24T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T07:45:16.332-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='key chain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Bar soap key chain....</title><content type='html'>There are two parts to this dream but for the life of me I can only recall the second part well. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 1:&lt;br /&gt;Vague recollection of a motorcycle, some house or play theater, people, I broke my keychain! &lt;br /&gt;Sadly, it's one of those dreams that strikes me as having an impact, but the memory is not coming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part 2:&lt;br /&gt;The key chain was apparently a bar of soap, so I went to a plastics shop to have it remade. I only gave basic design and showed the guy the broken one and told him I wanted something that shape but of a stronger material.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well he used something he called "epoxy" but it was the same consistency of soap. And of course, he broke it while trying to make a hole, so I said I'm not taking it, he needed to make it right! After a little while the manager came by and let me know the guy was a rookie and that he'd take care of things, but that I'd still have to pay for the first piece. I was getting annoyed since it wasn't my fault the guy used the wrong material and broke it.&lt;br /&gt;I stood thinking about it for a second when the manager pulled out a key chain that was a cop car that even had lights that lit up and I just thought it was so cool that I told him I'd take it and still pay for the broken piece, because it amused me so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8863328096296453214?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8863328096296453214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8863328096296453214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8863328096296453214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8863328096296453214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/02/bar-soap-key-chain.html' title='Bar soap key chain....'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3436555787306764101</id><published>2009-02-12T09:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T09:31:54.505-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Football</title><content type='html'>Last night I was back in high school and hanging out with a real life buddy, Darin. He was on the football team and we drove to a game together in his old school sports car, I want to say it was a vette, but it was definitely not the cougar that he actually had in High School.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was an away game and I remember seeing someone on the other team I thought I recognized, but when I got closer I realized I didn't know her. At this point out team was heading into the lockers and Darin asked that I call some people and see if they could come to the game so he gave me his cell phone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was planning on ditching after the game started so I didn't want to call anyone, but I was glad when I got voicemail on the people he wanted me to call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is a bit hazy, I vaguely recall sticking around and watching part of the game and something about driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3436555787306764101?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3436555787306764101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3436555787306764101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3436555787306764101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3436555787306764101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/02/football.html' title='Football'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8423419892273291505</id><published>2009-01-23T09:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T09:56:19.714-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='locker room'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Bars, locker rooms and old friends</title><content type='html'>Fading fast...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was trying to get to work, had to go through several doors to get there including one that lead through a locker room. I recall there being doors to a men's and women's locker room next to each other, but when I went into the men's one, I looked to the side and the door that should have lead to the women's lead to the same locker room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recall getting to work but still wearing my pacman pajamas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also recall some side story about a guy traveling on train that was interesting but it's faded out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime while at work I learned that a politician was giving a speech down a quad outside. Apparently he was trying to get re-elected. He said something about serving the people since 1996, so I made a snide remark to the affect of "so you should be changed, like a diaper". He didn't like that very much. I gave him some other heckling remarks but I don't recall what now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After walking away, a friend (I don't recall who, now) walked about and was tripping over what I said. I told the friend, I don't really care about that stuff, I would vote for him, if his voting record was for things I believed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't recall how, but I ended up in a bar. Pretty sure the bar was part of a restaurant cause I swear I was waiting for a table and for my dad to show up. While I was waiting an old friend from real life (Jaimie), walked in and we started talking. I said something about a card or something and she pointed to a closed part of the bar and a gate opened. There was a vending machine for lotto tickets, apparently my card didn't work on much, but it would work on that. I don't think I bought a ticket, but I can't recall for sure. I walked outside to wait for my dad and she followed me out and we kept talking, but I can't recall about what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is a bit blurry but I vaguely remember trying to put my hair in a ponytail but having a hard time and something about my dad on a motorcycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8423419892273291505?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8423419892273291505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8423419892273291505' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8423419892273291505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8423419892273291505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/01/bars-locker-rooms-and-old-friends.html' title='Bars, locker rooms and old friends'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1342269528019473216</id><published>2009-01-15T09:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T09:59:58.347-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='warehouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LAN party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cousin'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='starcraft'/><title type='text'>Starcraft LAN party in a warehouse, sorta</title><content type='html'>Well, last night I dreamt I went over to my cousin Mike's place and had a LAN party with him and my cousing, Tony. Only thing is, that my cousin had a warehouse for a garage. It was I'd say a 60 x 60 x 20 room (20' being the height). He had tons of food and other stuff stored away in it. After looking around for a suitable snack item we put together the computer I was going to be using then started playing Starcraft. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It looked like the old starcraft, but it had some definite new units and at first it seem almost like we were playing on a table top instead of playing on our computers. In fact, at one point I remember physically picking up an armored truck and asking Tony what it's stats were. Later in the game it was definitely on the computer screen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very rusty but didn't do to bad as the Terrans, but about half way through the battle suddenly I was the zerg. At this point cousin Mike got destroyed and it was just me and Tony. I suddenly switched from defensive to an offensive that involved infesting all his units to fight for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1342269528019473216?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1342269528019473216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1342269528019473216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1342269528019473216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1342269528019473216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/01/starcraft-lan-party-in-warehouse-sorta.html' title='Starcraft LAN party in a warehouse, sorta'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1163016423541326134</id><published>2009-01-14T11:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T11:54:56.769-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='theater'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mystery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chase'/><title type='text'>Conference?</title><content type='html'>Ack, I been slacking on updating!&lt;br /&gt;Now many of the dreams I really wanted to blog have faded into obscurity. :(&lt;br /&gt;Last nights is just a ghost of what it was already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember being with a buddy and the daughter of another buddy and going to some kind of conference/performance thing. There was a podium. The downstairs part of the church/mini-amphitheater thing was almost empty with only 2 or 3 people in seats, but the upstairs was really crowded. I vaguely remember wearing shorts and this was somehow significant. I want to say it was snowing out, then the girl ran off and I had to chase her, but I don't recall actually running after her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Maybe I should put batteries in my mini tape recorder so I can talk about my dreams in the car on the way to work or something.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1163016423541326134?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1163016423541326134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1163016423541326134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1163016423541326134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1163016423541326134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2009/01/conference.html' title='Conference?'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8043810978757973413</id><published>2008-11-24T08:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T08:36:43.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mohel BBQ</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, my wife and I were driving around and we happened to go right by the house of the Mohel who did Kai's circumcision. We decided to stop by and say hello. They invited us in and started talking when an earthquake hit so I ran to the door and stood in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the quake passed we found out they were having a BBQ with some of their kids and they invited us to stay. It was fun to meet their kids and talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8043810978757973413?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8043810978757973413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8043810978757973413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8043810978757973413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8043810978757973413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/11/mohel-bbq.html' title='Mohel BBQ'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2397914230212694468</id><published>2008-10-06T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T08:17:10.425-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='warcraft'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='earthquake'/><title type='text'>Quake!</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was playing world of warcraft at work with some buddies that in real life I play WoW with every Monday night. We were doing some weird version of BRD that had a very diabloesque look to it. I was trying to keep playing but I had a bunch of work to do, so I finally told them I'd have to log off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home from work, I found that there was a Warcraft Xpack Release party going on 2 doors down from my apartment (haven't lived in an apartment in years now...), so I looked in to it and saw they had a bunch of copies of the game for sale. I left to get to my place and figured I'd go back a little later and pick up a copy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never made it back. As I was standing in my apartment telling my wife about the party there was an earthquake and our apartment fell into the one below it. I had to remove some of the rubble of my son, Sami, to get him out of the apartment. Nobody was hurt but our place was totally destroyed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is kinda vague, but I remember being on the sidewalk in front of the place with everyone and my mother in law was there and it was light out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2397914230212694468?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2397914230212694468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2397914230212694468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2397914230212694468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2397914230212694468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/10/quake.html' title='Quake!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4128773861901062797</id><published>2008-10-01T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T12:02:35.923-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='taco bell'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alaska'/><title type='text'>day of the living taco bell</title><content type='html'>Parts are growing vague, but what's left is below.&lt;br /&gt;The beginning was set in Alaska. My wife and I were at some kind of conference, maybe. They were meeting at a hotel/shopping mall place that was partially outdoors. There was cold and snow everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;I recall stopping at a shop that rented out sled dog rigs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point we found the other conference goers and sat in a cold and snowy room talking for awhile before I got hungry and decided to get food for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left and got into my truck and suddenly I was in a place with no snow driving along to get to the taco bell. For some reason I was reading while driving. It took me a second to notice that there was a bike cop following me. I dropped the book and hoped she would think I was reading a map. She went past me and I waved at her to further make it feel like I was lost and reading a map or something even though I knew where the taco bell was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow, she knew I was looking for taco bell cause she waved at me to turn towards where it should be and then pulled up side my truck and told me that it was still there at the corner. I looked and saw a ton of construction. She let me know that they were still open. Even though she didn't look like the mom from family matters her voice was exactly the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went into the construction area and inside and found the taco bell. It was setup like a taco buffet and you could make your own tacos and chalupas. After working thru the line and making some tacos and a chalupa, I looked up and realized I was now back and the semi frozen hotel/shopping mall thing and standing in the line was a guy who was a real life bully from way back in my high school days. I ended up getting an argument with his girlfriend about what happened back in high school before I left the area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I left without finishing making 2 of my tacos or paying so I went back and found the taco bell was closed completely. In fact, it looked like there had not been one there in ages. I was confused so I left a couple dollars on the counter and took me food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the details get really fuzzy, but I recall eating the made taco and finding a weird room somewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4128773861901062797?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4128773861901062797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4128773861901062797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4128773861901062797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4128773861901062797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/10/day-of-living-taco-bell.html' title='day of the living taco bell'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-7054114292268097892</id><published>2008-09-03T07:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T12:03:31.468-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='warehouse'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abandoned'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>A little back in time</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was exploring an old abandoned warehouse with 3 other friends (nobody from real life, although one of the kinda looked like my buddy, Adam, except with a full beard and just a hint of color to his skin), 2 guys and a girl. We had flashlights cause it was just starting to get dark. We talked about how cool it would be to live near something like this so we could explore more of it and more often (apparently we were on a trip or something). We got separated as we ran around and at one point I found someone's flashlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After awhile of running around the warehouse, I ended up coming out of the backdoor of it and running into the others who were all looking down from where we were standing. At this point it was daylight again and just down a small cliff was a ghost town. It was the style of old American large city of roughly the wild west era and surrounded by a forest. We were totally amazed and stoked that we had another new spot to explore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's when it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we were standing in awe, the whole town "flickered" and suddenly for about 3 seconds it was bustling like it probably had in it's heyday. Carriages, people in old style dresses, some men in suits, some in trench coats, shop owners trying to sell the stuff. We were all stunned, then it was the ghost town again. We looked at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we looked back it was the bustling town again, but this time it didn't change back. I stepped closer and a tiny part of the cliff crumbled and fell down. My "darker" friend started freaking out. He started saying how he had to get out of here cause they would think he's a black and it could be trouble cause we were in the south. I tried to assure him that he looked white, but he pointed to the very white people in the town and then freaked more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point were all startled by some guys up on the cliff all wearing trench coats. The "darker" friend took off into the town so we chased him, but he got ahead in the dense crowds and we could only watch as one of the trench coat guys grabbed him by the arm and started leading him away. As he was being lead away, we saw some "mulatto" guys with their heads down trying not to watch and realized that our friend could really be in some serious trouble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did our best to follow him and finally caught up to the building he was taken into. We went inside and talked to someone, who told us he was gone already. It was at this point that we realized we had no idea where the girl went either! The other guy and I started to panic when we saw the trench coat guy, who'd grabbed our friend, enter the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told us it was very important that we came with him immediately. While we walked he explained that he put our friend on a carriage straight to the north-south border to keep him safe. He had friends up there that would take care of him. Then he told us that it was very important that we find the thing that brought us here and thaty he was sent by God to help us out. We were so freaked out that we did not even notice that he put us on a bus. We took seats and he started to drive. It was a modern bus, but the other passengers were all in period dress. My buddy tapped my shoulder and pointed at the guy who saved us and we realized he was wearing a modern looking jacket. The thing that made it certain was that it had zippers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had an epiphany that he must be from the future, too. My buddy had a smoke grenade in his pocket so we sneaked up to the guy and then my buddy put it in his face and pulled the pin. The guy freaked and yelled bomb and jumped out the window. My buddy dropped the smoke grenade and we ran out of the bus. We saw some woman in a dress appropriate for the era trying to shove the pin back in the grenade when it went off and dumped smoke everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is a bit choppy, but i vaguely recall the guy catching up to us and either explaining or us figuring out that we all looked like we were wearing period garb even though we weren't and something about he was in Tahiti when God grabbed him and sent him back for us. Also something about finding the "orb" or "crystal" that sent us back because it was evil and one very matrix sounding reference about us being plugged in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-7054114292268097892?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/7054114292268097892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=7054114292268097892' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/7054114292268097892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/7054114292268097892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/09/little-back-in-time.html' title='A little back in time'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1446866234558127774</id><published>2008-08-27T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T12:06:24.925-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mystery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='angela lansbury'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><title type='text'>Angela Lansbury: Mistress of Terror!</title><content type='html'>So last night in my dream Angela Lansbury drove up to me in her limo and informed me that I had to do a "project" for her. For some reason I knew there was no way I could just say no to it, so I started working on sabotaging it. The first thing I did was call the airline in with a bomb threat and my description.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the airline, the clerk behind the desk started acting a little funny and then finally security came and escorted me away. But the security guy didn't stop in the airport, he took me to a little diner just outside it and sat me at a table with Angela Lansbury. She said "You didn't think it would be that easy did you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after I sat down, three of my friends were also escorted to the table (nobody I know in real life, but I somehow knew they were my friends). Our waiter came by and it was somebody we knew (also not anyone from real life), but she shooed him away. As soon as he turned his back she injected him with to huge syringes in his head and he fell to the ground. We stared at her, aghast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then proceeded to stick him with a dozen or so other needles and remove his blood. Then she stood at the end of the diner's counter and we watched as the needles magically floated across the counter and injected his blood into her as she smiled devilishly at us and told us to do our tasks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1446866234558127774?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1446866234558127774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1446866234558127774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1446866234558127774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1446866234558127774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/08/angela-lansbury-mistress-of-terror.html' title='Angela Lansbury: Mistress of Terror!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8068043032002803657</id><published>2008-07-30T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T08:57:37.449-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='run away'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='book'/><title type='text'>Of cars and cops.</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a weird dream.&lt;br /&gt;It started with me at some kind of high school and apparently I was 19 or 20. I went to this building with double glass doors that lead into the gym where they were having a dance. I kept looking around like I was trying to find someone. The dream then skipped a little and it was later at night and I was standing outside the gym with a woman, a girl and a cop. The cop was chastising me for trying to get into a high school dance. The woman was some relative of the girl, not the mother though, maybe an aunt? Apparently the girl was my girlfriend and as soon as the cop left we took off away from the woman and I tried to explain to the girl that I really had wanted to take her to the homecoming dance (apparently the dance of that night) and the prom since she was home schooled. She thought that was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream skips again. Now I'm a different cop who really wants to get this guy for some reason and I'm at the police station and we're trying to find the guy and the girl using some kind of flying probe like out of Star Wars. We finally find them in a couple cars. A truck and a something like a cross between a civic and a geo metro. For just a second I'm the guy again and I wake up since I was sleeping in the truck. I yell "we've got to go" to the girl and another guy who is with us, since they are napping in the front seats of the Metro thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to being the cop, now I'm watching them jump up and the guy friend is whacking at the probe with a crowbar. Soon it shorts out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I'm back to being the guy and the friend is gone. It's just me and the girl and were are in the high school weight room. She is sitting on the bench press while we talk about things. I tell her that the first cop must not know much, otherwise why is he riled about me sneaking into the dance and not about my illegitimate child. At this point I'm trying to figure out how she reacts to the idea of me with a child and some kind of mysterious past. She seems okay with it and agrees to wait for me to come back and get her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I'm ripped to the distant future and realize that somehow I'm seeing the past and this is all an explanation for why we found the skeleton of a girl laying on the bench press with a blindfold on in this decrepit and falling apart old building.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, I never made it back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to the past and I'm the guy again but now I'm at my dad's shop with a datsun 240z trying to get the oil changed and the motor working. (I'm guessing as our "get away" vehicle.) But the instructions are really weird and it looks like I have to remove the engine just to change the oil. I come up with the idea of putting it up on a ramp to get the right oil drainage angle so I go in the shop and there is my Real Life dad in the shop. I ask him if he has a ramp and he says now but comes out to help me with the car. Suddenly the engine in the car is massive and sticks out of the hood like one of those suped up hotrods of the 70s. Apparently, several bolts are loose so my dad has a coworker start tightening them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream cuts again and I'm standing in the "waiting room" of my dad's shop and we're talking about something about how I have another grandfather that I didn't know about and he's somehow found out I'm here and is coming, but the car isn't done yet. So I run out of the shop into the street when I see this massive golden colored Cadillac with it's top down coming right at me. This old dude is driving it and slides it side wise at me to keep me from running away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The old guy is yelling that he's my "real" grandfather and wants me to come with him. Suddenly I hear a voice yelling and I turn to look. It's my grandpa that I know (I think it was even my mom's dad in real life) coming from the other direction in exactly the same Cadillac but this one is a dark green. He's trying to help me get away from "evil" grandpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAM! I wake up. Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, this one was just getting interesting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8068043032002803657?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8068043032002803657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8068043032002803657' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8068043032002803657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8068043032002803657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/07/of-cars-and-cops.html' title='Of cars and cops.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-5409494034643771047</id><published>2008-07-02T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T08:30:53.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs and Locks</title><content type='html'>Last night in my first dream, I dreamt that we had a second dog that was a part Basenji and part Dachsund. She was pretty cute and fun, but as mischievous as our other dog. The two of them found a way to escape our place and were running around the neighborhood. In the dream, we were living in an upstairs apartment in what looked like one of the more run down neighborhoods of the Santa Clara area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the second dream I was playing a warlock in world of warcraft when suddenly I was the warlock in the game. I was running around what I think was stranglethorn vale killing stuff, but the gear I was wearing looked like Tier 5 gear! But I was definitely not level 70.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-5409494034643771047?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/5409494034643771047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=5409494034643771047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/5409494034643771047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/5409494034643771047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/07/dogs-and-locks.html' title='Dogs and Locks'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2949551205720968346</id><published>2008-05-14T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-14T07:56:12.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Thing</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was in a building doing something when I suddenly needed to get away for some reason, so I jumped in the elevator. Every time the door opened though, I was confronted with two crazy guys throwing bombs down stairs that were right outside the elevator doors. I kept hitting the door close button and another floor. At some point the doors opened and one of the guys started splitting into tentacles and weird creature like things and the other dude started freaking out more. I knew instantly that it was the same virus-creature from John Carpenter's "&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0084787/"&gt;The Thing&lt;/a&gt;". Movie synopsis at the link if you haven't seen it. It's an older movie so the special FX are pretty dated, but when I was a kid it scared the crap out of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I quickly slammed the elevator door close button and pushed the ground level button, I ran out of the elevator but the thing was blocking the door out. I ran but it caught up with me. It didn't immediately envelope me, though. Apparently, I was the last survivor and it wanted me to help it get away from where we were. (The movie takes place in an antarctic base, but I was in some kind of building.) I refused and tried to run again. As I ran through the corridors and by some cubes I saw a woman. I ran to her to tell her to run. She turned and smiled at me, then spoke with the voice of the thing. It told me it would stay in this form and I could have my "way" with it as long as I helped it get away. I looked around and realized I was actually in a building that was in the antarctic, just like the movie. (Clearly this was a multi story office type building in the beginning of the dream, but now it was the same research station from the movie.) "She" kept following me around making offers if I just help it. Every now and again "she" would sprout tentacles and grab at me, but it didn't invade my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told it that I would rather freeze to death than help it. Which apparently I did. Last thing I remember is looking over my body and seeing it encased in ice. With a note on my chest warning about the thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2949551205720968346?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2949551205720968346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2949551205720968346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2949551205720968346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2949551205720968346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/05/thing.html' title='The Thing'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4533373101792824347</id><published>2008-04-29T08:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-29T09:08:45.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zombie Invasion</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamt I was one of a few survivors of a zombie outbreak. At the start of the dream we were entrenched in a warehouse like thing that had a rotting roof. It was very low protection, but it was all we had. After a few minutes of dialog I don't recall very well, I changed perspective from myself to one of the zombies wondering around trying to figure out how to get in. From the zombie POV I witnessed the "zombie contagion" morph a new kind of zombie. I called it something like burster or oozer, can't recall exactly. It was because it was a bit faster than a normal zombie and when it got close it's eyeballs would bulge out and start foaming some kind of nastiness all over it's body out of these nasty looking boils and it's eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly popped back into my body and found myself telling this one lady in the room to go away because I was married. She said everyone else is dead. I was starting to say that we don't know that for sure, when the walls started to rattle. I vaguely recall some weapons fire and some kind of military presence (like they came to save us), but suddenly the dream shifted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was now in an airplane in a hangar and it was dark. I had some kind of laser weapon and was sitting in a dark corner of the airplane with someone else waiting to fight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The side of the airplane was missing and we were taking shots out of it. There was some kind of strange energy cannon outside the plane that we could activate if we shot it with our lasers. So, for the most part, we would sneak to the side of our hiding spot and shoot the cannon to get it to kill the enemy for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After awhile of doing the sneak and shoot, I finally saw the enemy because the cannon overloaded and died. We were fighting samurai dressed in white. One of the jumped on to me and I had to fight him to the death. I took his sword and started fighting the other samurai.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream "flashed" and now I was not in a hangar, but a small shack of a home, but the plane was still there. Once I stepped out of it, it shrunk down to the size of a play airplane. My partner was gone and now I was in a room with two kids a teenage girl and her little brother (maybe 10). The place was basically just two rooms. The room we were in was about 8 x 12 and just had a little bed and some shelves. The "back" room looked like a mini laundry room that also had a tiny sink in it. The bedroom door leading outside was locked and shut, but apparently we could get the laundry room door to stay shut. The girl said we need to get the plane working again so we could get away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started winding a string around this spring mechanism in the tail because it would help somehow, when she ran out the bedroom door to bar the laundry room door. At this point things got a little jumbled, but I recall a flying sensation like I was flying the on the toy airplane but I couldn't get the string to stay so I ended up back on the bed in the shack, but now there was no roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I told the boy to stay and I ran out to get his sister. Once outside I noticed we were surrounded by beautiful countryside like something out of the "Sound of Music" where the woman is spinning in circles and singing about the hills. I found the girl by the back door (why I hadn't gone out the back door is a mystery to me, it was still open) and told the boy to come out. Once he got outside I looked around again and noticed some kind of building on the hill and a bunch of soldiers standing on the hill coming down to us. I was relieved because we'd finally been saved! The soldiers looked funny tho, they had modern weapons, but the uniforms were camouflage colored old civil war style uniforms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know the three of us were running up the hill to them and my point of view changed to an angle above us and zooming out to see the all of us and even the building as I got further away and then panned up to see the beautiful hills and the horizon and then movie credits started rolling up in my view.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4533373101792824347?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4533373101792824347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4533373101792824347' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4533373101792824347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4533373101792824347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/04/zombie-invasion.html' title='Zombie Invasion'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-7284279474316180556</id><published>2008-04-13T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T06:12:18.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamt I went to Disney Land, but I got there ahead of my family. The parking lot was really small for it being an amusement park of Disney Land's size. I brought a soda can with me to get a discount on the admission (this is something my local theme park, Great America, does, but I have no idea if Disney Land does this).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once inside I went on several of the water rides (the last time I went to Disney Land I was really, really young so I don't remember anything except space mountain and the electric parade and that it was fun, heh). When I was on the log ride I spotted my wife and the kids, so I waved. They saw me and told me they were hungry. So I left the park and went to a Weinerschnitzel that was so close to the park, that they had a condiment bar actually in the park, even though you had to leave to get to the actual restaurant...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After bringing them their hotdogs, they still didn't go into the park so I started heading back myself and then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-7284279474316180556?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/7284279474316180556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=7284279474316180556' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/7284279474316180556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/7284279474316180556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/04/disney.html' title='Disney'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4633763287199273091</id><published>2008-04-07T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T07:07:50.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Politics</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamt that I walked from my house to a school where they were holding some kind of political thing. It seemed to be a voting thing because I had this strange strip shaped ballot. I ran into a real life coworker there and we were discussing the candidates. I noted that I wasn't sure why I was bothering since I didn't know much about the candidates, but I also told him that I trusted his opinion so I 'd like to hear his thoughts on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then changed lines to go to where they were serving food to talk about it. When we go there, I found a line that led to the huge eggo style waffles. Each one was the width of a dinner plate and about 2 inches thick. I grabbed one and was sitting down with the coworker to discuss things when I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4633763287199273091?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4633763287199273091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4633763287199273091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4633763287199273091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4633763287199273091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/04/politics.html' title='Politics'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3361461398769893216</id><published>2008-04-02T07:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T07:03:32.677-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping 'em clear!</title><content type='html'>(Keep in mind that in real life it appears we have a mouse problem in the garage.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a dream that we had an infestation of cats in our garage. My wife and daughter are very allergic to cats in real life. So I was tasked with getting rid of them and figuring out how they were getting in the garage. I kept grabbing them and tossing them out into the backyard. This drove our dog nuts and was making my arms itch. (I'm not allergic to cats in real life, but I am allergic to grass, so it was probably their dirty coats making me itch. Happens with our dog, too, when I'm not keeping up with his baths.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3361461398769893216?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3361461398769893216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3361461398769893216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3361461398769893216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3361461398769893216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/04/keeping-em-clear.html' title='Keeping &apos;em clear!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-9184640768332124565</id><published>2008-03-24T08:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T08:21:05.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Closet-aphobia</title><content type='html'>(Pre-amble: I struggled with claustrophobia for many years. I'm still mildly claustrophobic. I think drowning would be one of the worst ways to die.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream a few days ago I was at some kind of nerd party. Some of us were playing table top RPGs, others were working on some kind of research, etc. One person was showing pictures of her research trip. At some point I realized I had to go to the restroom. So went and found one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was one of those dinky "half bath" kind with just a toilet and sink. This one was so small that the "sink" was just a spigot and there was a drain on the floor. The toilet had a roughly 10 inch diameter. I was having trouble sitting on it so I decided I would just pee and hold the rest, but the toilet was so small I missed and got pee on my boxers, doh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned the faucet on to try and wash the spot, but when I turned the faucet off the water kept running. I quickly found out the drain didn't work! I turned towards the door to get out when the entire room shrunk, but the door grew taller and I had to reach up to get to the handle! Now my shoes were soaked. I grabbed the handle but it appeared to be broken and my fingers were slippery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The water level kept raising and the claustrophobia kicked in and I started to panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow I forced myself to wake up. Unfortunately, it was 3 AM and I did not get back to sleep. As of writing this I still feel a little groggy from lost sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/zombie" style="display: block; color: #fff; text-decoration: none; font-size: 10px; font-family: sans-serif, verdana, arial; width: 94px; height: 14px; background: url(http://www.justsayhi.com/bb/css/img/zombie/zombie_badge.png) no-repeat; padding-left: 4px;"&gt;43%&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-9184640768332124565?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/9184640768332124565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=9184640768332124565' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/9184640768332124565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/9184640768332124565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/03/closet-aphobia.html' title='Closet-aphobia'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-6826918638474372469</id><published>2008-03-12T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T09:41:58.954-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In a daze</title><content type='html'>A few nights ago I dreamt that I was at work in a staff meeting when we heard that someone got shot. We debated whether the person shot himself or if he was shot by someone. After a couple minutes another person came in the room with a rifle and started shooting us! It turned out to only be a pellet gun. This person thought it would be 'funny' to shoot people because the other guy shot himself...&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember there being more but it's gone now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I dreamt that I was trying to help find a woman and her baby that had been kidnapped. Somehow I knew where the kidnapper had gone. (I've previously had a dream about this particular villain doing a kidnapping and found him in a secret lair.) Not sure how I knew this information, but it strikes me it was because of the previous dream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I traveled to this small rundown almost rural town just outside of the LA area and went straight to this business that was like some kind of "fun place". It had pinball machines, arcade games, a ball bounce room and a crawl around jungle gym. It was closed so I broke in and started searching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't take long to find the woman. I helped her get out of the building and I told her I would find her baby. I was shortly there after attacked by the villain's henchmen. They had guns and I had nothing so I punched one and ran around a corner. Soon I found myself jumping over pinball machines and through tunnels trying to get away from them and still find the baby. I heard the villain's voice tell me I'd never find the baby, but he was wrong. I found a stack of pillow by a slide and under them was the baby wrapped in a blanket. I grabbed him and ducked under a pinball machine just in time to not get shot. I looked at the door and saw the villain briefly before he ran out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was forced to wait because two of his guards stayed behind for a couple minutes firing their machine guns. By the time they left, the villain had already gotten away, but I returned the baby to the mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked around and noticed the sun was starting to get low on the horizon and you could see some of the LA smog in the hills. I pointed this out to someone and noted this is why I don't live in southern California. That someone turned out to be a kid I met in Oregon in real life when I was working with a church youth group. (In the was the age I knew him a few years ago; around 12.) I was happy to see him again and he told me to come with him back to his mom's place so we could catch up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got there it was dark and I lost him. For some reason I decided to try the door but it was locked so I went to the back door and it wasn't. It was really dark in his house, but somehow I knew generally where things were so I wouldn't bump into them despite the fact that I had never been there before. I whispered his name to get his attention, but got no response. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow now I was holding a katana, but I didn't have a sheath for it so I balanced it on my shoulder. I was trying to get to a bedroom door when I accidentally stumbled on something and it crashed to the floor. Suddenly a light came on and there was his mom where pajamas and a robe. She was annoyed at being woken up. I looked around and the kid was standing not far from me looking in the fridge, like nothing happened. The mom got annoyed at me until the kid told her who I was. She said something like "fine, but don't make anymore noise" and then went back to her bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember there was a little more but it's gone now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-6826918638474372469?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/6826918638474372469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=6826918638474372469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6826918638474372469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6826918638474372469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/03/in-daze.html' title='In a daze'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2514187250251268485</id><published>2008-03-01T05:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T05:13:08.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>many many</title><content type='html'>I had several dreams last night. I'll start with the last one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was with my brother and his fiance in some water thing, we were swimming up stream. When we finally got to the end we had to crawl thru a small duct back into a building where some meeting was going on. They were crawling behind me. Everything was fine until we got to the end. When we got there I saw a woman screwing in a grate to close off the hole out of the duct. There was not enough room to turn back. I yelled at the woman to please unscrew it so I could get out but she just ran away. At this point my claustrophobia kicked into overdrive and I started to panic. I pushed the grate but it didn't move. I checked another grate but it didn't move. I screamed again telling them I was claustrophobic and I'd end up breaking the grate. I didn't want to break the grate but I was really starting to panic. At this point I woke up, but I'm still shaking as I write this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another dream I had, my wife and I were driving around when we saw my father in law walking on the side of the street. He didn't see us as we drove by. We were apparently headed to an old house that she lived in for a little while as a child (this isn't true, she lived her entire childhood in the same house her parents are living now). We were exploring it when she came upon a for sale sign and found out her parents were selling it and had just lowered the price from 214,000 to 114,000! I told her we should just buy it ourselves. Then we noticed my father in law coming into the house and we hid. I have no idea why and only vaguely remember us waiting until he left and discussing more about buying the house from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night before last, I had a dream that I decided to go get sandwiches for lunch and I went to the sandwich shop riding a mini bicycle which was only 2 feet tall and had 6 inch wheels. When I got close enough to the shop to see it, suddenly there was construction in the way with fresh poured concrete. I kept trying to get around it but construction guys would appear and so would more fresh concrete and they would tell me to go around. I was getting frustrated and ran into muddy grass that bogged down the bike. I got off of it and crawled thru the sludge like mud to another cement section which also turned to fresh cement when I go there. I was so frustrated that I crawled thru it, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2514187250251268485?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2514187250251268485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2514187250251268485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2514187250251268485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2514187250251268485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/03/many-many.html' title='many many'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3036416116182618401</id><published>2008-01-28T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:00:03.741-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blowjob'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='soda'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pineapple juice'/><title type='text'>In other news: The Soda industry about to crash.</title><content type='html'>Gotta love provable factoids!&lt;br /&gt;Soda (and all other carbonated drinks) makes your ejaculate taste bad! Yes, you read that right. If you like blowjobs, you'd do well to give up Soda!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you'd like your mate to give it another whirl, give up Soda for at least a week and she'll notice the difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the flipside of things, Pineapple juice has the opposite affect!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why isn't this all over the News?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3036416116182618401?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3036416116182618401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3036416116182618401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3036416116182618401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3036416116182618401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-other-news-soda-industry-about-to.html' title='In other news: The Soda industry about to crash.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8819570541875121477</id><published>2007-12-20T06:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:00:23.395-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>The New Sega</title><content type='html'>In my dream I went to my place with a my co-worker (Jim), my cousin (Tony) and someone else. I can't quite recall why but we ended up playing video games. To get to my TV and video game systems tho, we had to climb up a ladder to this ledge with a dresser that had my TV and video game systems on it. We decided to play the newest street fighter game, but for some reason it was on a SEGA game system...one that used controllers just like the old 6 button Genesis controllers. I can't really recall what the system looked like, but it strikes me it was some kind of Genesis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we switched players I was looking thru the drawers for another game to play when I found some old blockbuster games that I'd forgotten to return. I got slightly annoyed at this development so I started to get ready to go return them. Suddenly the room was a regular room and not a ledge. My wife came in and asked what was going on, so I told her I found the old rented games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely recall getting to my place by driving thru some kind of back alley and then thru some kind of warehouse where I to climb over a fence to open a door to get out and I think that is where I ran into the fourth person who I think was a trucker or something. But that's all I can recall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8819570541875121477?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8819570541875121477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8819570541875121477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8819570541875121477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8819570541875121477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/12/new-sega.html' title='The New Sega'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4469030011097422218</id><published>2007-12-12T11:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:00:59.599-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><title type='text'>Terror</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a dream that this kids was chatting with Iraqi kids and they wanted him to come over there and meet them. The kid's parents wouldn't let him, so he sneaked away and went anyway. He brought his video games with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then a video hit the news (or something, I was watching an unedited version) with the kid talking to the camera to his parents. He was walking around in something that looked like an old church talking about how much fun he'd had with these kids playing his video games and whatnot. As he walked and talked the Iraqi kids in the background pulled out razors (the old single blade folding kind) and walked up to the kid. They then slashed him and the kid was startled and asked them why the were doing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One slash went right across his lower back and he fell over onto a pew and just moaned for few seconds asking "why?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point my dream ended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4469030011097422218?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4469030011097422218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4469030011097422218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4469030011097422218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4469030011097422218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/12/terror.html' title='Terror'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-5074721850780247759</id><published>2007-12-11T13:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:01:33.384-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>The Train</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was trying to get home from some sort of event in New York City. I was with my buddy Eric and we were trying to drive out but the traffic was absolutely atrocious. At some point this lady was diverting traffic, but we had to get out of our car and walk. She gave us each a paper with some kind of ticket attached to it and told us it would be the only way to get out of the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I protested that we were going all the way back to California but she said it would be fine and pushed us toward this funny brick thing that had stairs under it. We squeezed thru and after a short tunnel found ourselves standing in a University. Not sure where to go we started asking random people and eventually were guided to a field next to the University's very grandiose library.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to the field were train tracks and a person there explained that the tickets were vouchers we could give to people using the tracks to take us to our destination. Something like they got the vouchers from us and then could get something else for helping out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eric and I stood there waiting for what we thought was going to be a train, but turned out to be various small vehicles using the train tracks. Most were only 2 seaters and we wanted to ride together so we kept waiting and letting others go ahead of us. After awhile it started to look like there would be no multi seat vehicles so Eric grabbed the next vehicle which looked kinda like a milk truck only smaller on the tracks. As he was leaving I heard someone start yelling about how we all needed to be in line. I turned and saw a line forming and got annoyed because I was in front before but now I was being pushed back. Instead of getting in line I just grabbed the next vehicle and jumped in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, now it wasn't train tracks but rather a water duct like in a waterslide park. The vehicle was a strange 3 seat teeter totter type thing. The two seats in front of me were taken by small children. I looked behind and realized there were actually 4 seats but the last one was very waterlogged. A small child was standing by it looking sad so I offered my seat, but the child wanted the back seat. She was just having trouble getting in so I helped her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the ride I mostly closed my eyes and tried to kick back since I knew it was going to be a very long ride, but I was awoken by a bump and realized that now my ride was somehow inside some kind of small play house and it was riding the water uphill somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard children's voices and realized it was my kids voices so I bailed off the boat thing and started looking around. As it turned out, the play house was just a water fun thing that circled on itself and didn't get anywhere. I finally found me kids and got out of to look around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found the problem when I found the water slide. It apparently had broken and was shooting into a person's back yard right at this playhouse. I found the other end but it was dried up and had spider webs. The other side went over this person's fence but only for another 10 feet or so. I went back to grab my kids and now my dog was there, too. The kids from my boat were there and they wanted my help getting home so I cautiously opened the person's gate out of their yard, but my dog kept trying to get past me and run away so I had to shut the gate and grab his collar. Now I noticed the other children also had another 2 dogs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I looked over the gate and noticed it was some kind of cul de sac and this is where the dream fades away as I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-5074721850780247759?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/5074721850780247759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=5074721850780247759' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/5074721850780247759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/5074721850780247759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/12/train.html' title='The Train'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4914529978249212038</id><published>2007-12-03T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:01:51.912-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weird'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Early</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night my wife had a baby, but it was born 2 months premature. The baby came out and I was holding him. He was so tiny. As they clean him up though, it became revealed that he had very "mousy" features a la 'stewart little'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4914529978249212038?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4914529978249212038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4914529978249212038' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4914529978249212038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4914529978249212038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/12/early.html' title='Early'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8437760928428075195</id><published>2007-11-16T05:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:02:17.718-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><title type='text'>Invasion</title><content type='html'>Last night in my dream I was standing outside of a building next to a food cart (might have a been a hotdog stand) when I looked up and saw a shooting star. As i watched it got bigger and bigger until it looked like it fell right behind the hill in front of me. A lot of people ran over the hill to get a better look. As I stood there watching, a huge metallic creature came over the hill. It was some kind of vessel and it was shaped kind of like a mechanical snake. It's huge arrow shaped head had a single red "eye" on the top and it started shooting at us. I quickly tried to duck under the cart to find out there was no room under, so I jumped behind it then behind a parked car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From behind the parked car I was able to find out there was another snake ship by the building. It was dropping strange electrified pod from part of it's body. I decided I didn't want to find out what the pods did so I ran towards the building, but there were to pods already inspecting the doors so I veered towards the hill since the snake thing was in the way the other direction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the hill was another building (I don't recall there being two buildings in the beginning of the dream, but such are my dreams. :P ) The doors of this building were locked. I had to break the door to get in. I noticed the doors were all starting to shut like an alarm had gone off and this was the security protocol. I looked back and saw one of the electrified pods just outside and watched as it dropped several screw shaped pods. A couple of the screw pods started scooting on the ground straight at me. I ran into the main part of the building and past a bunch of cubes trying to lose the screw pods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of the people in the cubes didn't notice me, but they did notice the floating screw pods and started to panic. I found the emergency stairs and started going up stairs. At some point, I changed perspectives and I was in the body of some guy who knew the aliens were coming somehow. He was at the very top of the stairs and had a pod chasing him. He ran into this break room and shut the door. In the room was a person talking to the aliens and a couple more screw pods. There was a conversation or an argument between him and the other person when the screw pod chasing him finally broke the door and flew at him, but he dodged it and it slammed into the window. The window shattered and it became a wind tunnel, like they were in outer space, but they weren't. The other two pods and the traitor person flew out the window. The guy's whose perspective I'd changed to grabbed onto things and sat down once the pressure equalized. I think it felt he'd found a good hiding place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was back in my body. I'd ditched the stairs and was hiding on top of a big arch like structure that was in the main lobby of this building. It was about 20 feet tall and had a small flat roof so I was pressed down against it to hide from the pandemonium just below me. At some point I vaguely recall the room being cleared out so I jumped down and started running again or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly there after I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8437760928428075195?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8437760928428075195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8437760928428075195' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8437760928428075195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8437760928428075195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/11/invasion.html' title='Invasion'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2550938891400817622</id><published>2007-11-09T07:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T07:02:50.418-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>Company lunch</title><content type='html'>So last night I dreamt that the CEO of the company I work for was taking the QA and Dev team out to dinner. My wife was invited to come along also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took highway 87 (not a real local highway) to get there and at some point lost our car so we had to walk the last part. At the off ramp I found my wife's wallet, some of our blockbuster online movies and a jacket laying on the ground. I nearly got run over by a car trying to pick them up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the edge of this off ramp was a weird staircase thing that led down to the restaurant. Since it had been raining, the steps were slippery so we very carefully went down them. After several minutes we finally got to the restaurant and one of my co-workers (Scott) was waiting for us at the waiting area. He had this sad look on his face and let us know that the restaurant had decided they didn't have enough room for all of us and since we were the last to arrive, we wouldn't be able to have dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little annoyed until I looked over at where the group was sitting and found that there were around 8 2-person tables empty all around our group. The maitre-de came over and tried to explain that they couldn't use those cause that part of the restaurant wasn't open right now. (In real life I've been a waiter twice and handled significantly larger groups without much problem at all.) At this I just got plain pissed off, so much so that the maitre-de actually walked me out of the restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was annoyed and it had started slightly raining again making the stairwell back up nearly impossible to navigate. To make things worse it had transformed to something different where at the end of each flight you had to jump up and grab a ledge and pull yourself through a hole to get to the next flight of stairs. The last one I just couldn't fit through. I remember looking down the side of it and seeing a big Ronald McDonald like it was some kind of play jungle stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We gave up at that point and went back down so we could just take the elevator up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point things start to fade out badly but I vaguely remember the elevator being near a magazine kiosk and something about a janitor, I think he took the elevator with us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2550938891400817622?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2550938891400817622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2550938891400817622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2550938891400817622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2550938891400817622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/11/company-lunch.html' title='Company lunch'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-530642635700828894</id><published>2007-10-23T09:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T07:55:05.589-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shrinking space.</title><content type='html'>Last night, I dreamt I went to Japan.&lt;br /&gt;The government had instituted a new federal level policy that was forcing everything to be made even smaller so they could preserve more of the "natural areas".&lt;br /&gt;I was staying at a hotel and the individual rooms no longer had individual bathrooms or showers. You had to go down to the lobby for both.&lt;br /&gt;The shower stalls were so small I couldn't even fit into them. I kept looking for a larger stall to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;I went to a skiing place and the ski lift was stacked 3 people high.&lt;br /&gt;In the last part of my dream i was back in the US and over at someones house. For some reason i was talking to their kid about my trip to Japan.&lt;br /&gt;Then the kid got a phone call or something and left, so I was just standing there checking out these really small dark marbles he had.&lt;br /&gt;The rest is faded out now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-530642635700828894?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/530642635700828894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=530642635700828894' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/530642635700828894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/530642635700828894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/10/shrinking-space.html' title='Shrinking space.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8142551838277336450</id><published>2007-10-22T08:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T08:41:57.727-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I win?</title><content type='html'>Last night was whacked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this dream that I went to the liquor store and bought a lotto ticket for that night's drawing and I won! Sorta, I didn't win the jackpot but I did win the second prize. But when the jackpot is 70+ million dollars the second prize is still a lot of money. If I recall correctly I found out it was several 100 thousand dollars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at home watching the numbers drop, so I went to the liquor store to get my pay out. The guy told me that they couldn't pay out that much, of course, and gave me the info where to go to redeem my ticket. I went back home to tell my wife about it. She was coming down the stairs when I pulled out the ticket and unfolded it. It had a small tear on it and I was being real careful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rolled over to and told my wife about this dream I had and I tried to remember the winning numbers. I was writing them on a little note pad on my night stand. But some of the numbers were whack, such as 209 was the mega number and 99 or 98 was one of the numbers (which is way out of the range on CA lotto-which only goes to 40 something). The other numbers were fading fast but there was a 28 or 25 and 3 and 5, not really sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then got up and saw my old youth pastor through our living room window. I ran to my door and called out to him and we talked about somethings and I found out that the camp still had one spot available. Then he asked me to come but not as a counselor, but as a camper. Since I'm over a decade to old to be a camper it suddenly hit me that I was still dreaming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to pack up my stuff and suddenly my house was still under construction. I was talking to one of the contractors, excitedly about going to camp. I told him how I was a protection specc'd paladin and it was unusual to get a tanking position in a raid. (Apparently this was a raiding world of warcraft camp or something. If the last sentences didn't make any sense, then you need a world of warcraft perspective, and trust me it still doesn't make a lot of sense.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I woke up and again and the numbers were really fried (as noted above). The only certain number is the mega of 209 in my head now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8142551838277336450?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8142551838277336450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8142551838277336450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8142551838277336450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8142551838277336450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/10/i-win.html' title='I win?'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1487264318068463112</id><published>2007-10-19T08:30:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T08:30:45.426-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mercenary dream</title><content type='html'>I was in a space ship of some sort. The crew was civilian, but they seemed to be some kind of mercenaries. We were debating what to do because apparently we’d been attacked by some kind of aliens. There was one last person that we were unsure whether she was “infected” by the aliens. There was a very harsh debate as to whether to throw her out of the airlock.&lt;br /&gt;After much arguing it was decided she would have to wait outside the ship until we figured out what to do. Apparently this ship had an “observation deck” that was physically outside the ship, but had a contained air bubble you could breathe. So I was the one who got to escort her out. As I closed the airlock door that lead to the deck, she gave me this sad look.&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that we landed on a planet. Several of us got out to look for provisions. Apparently not all the crew members were mercenaries like us so we told them they would have to wait behind because it wasn’t safe. We got out armed with heavy machine guns. &lt;br /&gt;Here it’s starting to fade, but I do remember walking around this large building that was surrounded by people just hanging out or partying and all of them were armed to the teeth. Part of our group left to find restrooms and I separated to find, I think, ammunition. We were still afraid the aliens were returning. I recall jumping over a large pipe and that’s about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1487264318068463112?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1487264318068463112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1487264318068463112' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1487264318068463112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1487264318068463112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/10/mercenary-dream.html' title='Mercenary dream'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3665934025968257401</id><published>2007-10-09T07:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T07:45:02.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tyranny</title><content type='html'>I had this dream last night that I was with a group in the post apocalyptic type era. The building were thrashed and jungle was growing up around them. We had a small group that was constantly on the watch for some kind of creature. It was something that was hard to detect and we used several kinds of detection from visual to seismic to try and keep ahead of it. We also moved around alot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were at one building which was apparently where I lived before everything went crazy. There wasn't much there but at least it had toilet paper (and working plumbing somehow...) After looking around for more supplies, we setup the sensors again and posted guards. I was using the bathroom when one of my officers came to me and told me they were getting seismic activity. I ran to the person with the laptop computer and looked at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told them that we needed to move when a shot rang out. We grabbed our people and started running into the forrest toward another building we had that would be more secure. (This one barely had 2 walls and no ceiling.) We ran as the other tribe shot at us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I rounded a bend and saw my kids were at the other building already. As my group passed me somehow I was able to grab the child of the leader of the other group. As the other group's people started to converge on us I ran up a slide to the second floor of the building and held out the child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I screamed for them to stop and made a small speech about us needing to work together to fight the evil things. The leader of their group came up and I gave her child back to her. They begrudgingly agreed to work together. I told them something and we started to head back to the first building. Somehow my family and I got separated from the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the forrest a T-rex appeared and started chasing us. We dodged and ducked. We ran and ran. We turned around a bend and found an abandoned shopping mall so we hid in there. The T-rex kept sniffing around. At some point I was holographically projected out of the mall and I could see the T-rex trying to find its way in, but it had morphed to Godzilla proportions and apparently it could talk! It kept taunting me to show myself then resorted to ripping the rooves off of the various shops. I looked around and saw it now had a couple friends watching, too. I slowly backed away and realized I was hiding in plain sight, not actually a holograph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an effort to distract the T-rex from my family I took of running. Of course, at that point the T-rex also realized I wasn't a holograph and chased me. I ran back into the forrest. I knew somehow that once the T-rex and his buddies came after me, that my family could escape the mall. I came around a corner and found a path that had been cleared in the forrest. I looked to my side and saw my family was already there. I saw a huge pile of dung in the path and realized it was a walking path for triceratops. The dung pile was big enough to hide in so we jumped in and hoped it would mask our smell. Apparently one of my men was already in the pile hiding so it moved and fell apart, not really hiding all of us. I frantically piled more on and then saw that something was "burrowing" thru the dung. It turned out to be a small triceratops, but it totally revealed our hiding spot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I knew the T-rex was bounding right over us then it turned and looked at us so we ran again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point we found some kind of restaurant and ran into it. There were people there and they gave us a funny look. Of course, shortly after it was terror as a raptor buddy flew thru window and started snapping at people. I was unable to dodge it fast enough and it caught me in its jaws. Next thing I knew it and I were in the jaws of the T-rex. Fortunately the body of the raptor was now protecting me from its massive teeth. I grabbed something and actually broke one of the T-rex's teeth and got myself out of its jaws. It munched the raptor and chased me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just ran and ran and ran thru the restaurant trying to knock things in its way. I realized that the end of the restaurant was coming so I turned around and ran at the T-rex. At the last possible second I took a flying slide under its belly. It just missed me as it reached under and trying to catch me with its jaws. Fortunately, for me the T-rex lost its balance when it tried to reach under itself while running and it flipped and to its head at full speed and snapped its neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something happened after this but its fuzzy and I only vaguely remember people cheering or something and hugging my wife.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3665934025968257401?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3665934025968257401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3665934025968257401' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3665934025968257401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3665934025968257401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/10/tyranny.html' title='Tyranny'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2635373531009565580</id><published>2007-09-17T07:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T07:22:50.797-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whacky beach</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, my family and I were walking to a beach to go swimming. To get to it we were walking across a large concrete road/bridge thing. We got towards the end of it and it made a sharp 90 degree turn but the road was angle downwards. (Basically if you followed the angle you'd walk right off the bridge.) I went towards the edge to get a view of the beach and realized that we were around 300 feet up in the air. (The number 326 comes to mind.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beach was almost directly below us but we'd have to snake around the down part of the bridge to get there. From this height I was able to notice that the beach's interesting shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beach was a giant U shape but in the middle of the U there was a huge sandbar with a very steep angle which created something like a "3rd" beach in the middle of this odd little "bay".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was checking out the beach I lost my footing and fell. As I was falling I realized that I needed to stop myself cause hitting the water would be deadly at this height so I grabbed rafters as I flew past them, eventually I was able to slow my descent enough that I could actually grab hold of one of the rafters and stop myself about 20 feet from the water. After getting a good grip, I let go and dropped the rest of the way down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then looked up and realized that my wife was tossing the kids down after me cause I guess she thought I had jumped on purpose! As soon as they hit the water I dived after them and pulled them all to shore. They were fine and had thought it was fun. (No way in real life, my eldest is very scared of heights. She'd have been in tears to be dropped from any height.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this, we swam for a little while but the beach was insanely crowded so we decided to see if we could find a more secluded spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up walking through this boardwalk/mall type place that was right up against the beach. It had restaurants and business offices and tourist shops in it that were a big giant maze. At one point I found myself in the restaurant trying to figure out how to get around the tables and back out. I finally found a door but it lead to an atrium, which only had doors back into the restaurant or this little research office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember finally finding my wife and kids again, and some more swimming and talking to a researcher but its all fuzzy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2635373531009565580?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2635373531009565580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2635373531009565580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2635373531009565580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2635373531009565580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/09/whacky-beach.html' title='Whacky beach'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-9006318064869225309</id><published>2007-09-12T07:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T08:44:56.053-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A full night of dreaming...</title><content type='html'>Dream #1&lt;br /&gt;For some reason this guy called me up and asked me if I wanted to run for sheriff. I said "Sure, why not." and went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had barely fallen asleep when the guy called back to say that as of right now I had won. They were counting the last of the votes by I was way ahead of the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was, of course, shocked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wife and I then sat around in bed talking about what choice I should make. If we should stay here in California or move to Oregon still (we are planning to move to Oregon in real life). I pictured myself as a sheriff and saw the image of me with short hair and a cop mustache in uniform. Ack. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream #2? (Not sure if this wasn't part of one of the other dreams)&lt;br /&gt;A friend of mine was in a salon getting his hair put into dread locks so I decided to join him and get cornrows, but the salon person didn't know how to do "regular" corn rows as he called them. I looked at his head and sure enough his were weird. They were sorta cornrows down at his scalp and across the top of each row he had really long hair that was in dreads but rubber banded to the "corn row" below it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream #3&lt;br /&gt;In this dream, a bunch of people and I were being forced to walk along this strange metal building structure thru a series of stairs and corridors. After awhile it hit me that this did not look like it was going somewhere I wanted to be. So I started letting myself fall further and further back in the group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I ducked into a side corridor and started searching for a way out. I knew that the stairs leading up eventually got somewhere bad so I was searching for stairs leading down, but couldn't find any. I kept finding up stairs until I hit a point where there was a really ominous sign saying something like "research point here". I knew that if I went that way I was dead, but by now there was a robotic guard following me. I looked around and jumped over the stairs railing into a corridor below and found stairs leading down so I took them hoping that I had lost the guard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The corridor I ran into was dirty and rusty and there were weird goblin like creatures where metal standing around. I changed my pace to walking and hoped they would think I was supposed to be there. One of them walked up to me and pointed this long gun at me that looked like a 3 inch wide and 2.5 foot long pipe with a gun handle. The goblins were only about 3.5 feet tall so he jabbed it up at my chest and muttered something. At the second jab, I snatched it from his hands turned it around and fired it into his chest. It had very little kick and shot out several pellets that ripped a wide pattern into him. He fell and gurgled a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I immediately turned and started shooting all the goblins as fast as I could. Figuring I was running out of ammo I grabbed a second pipe gun and started to walk away when I noticed the robot guard had found me. I fired a couple shots, but the were to weak to even faze it. I started running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again I was going upwards, but this time at the edge of this strange structure. I made it to the top of a wall when I realized it was some kind of floating fortress. As far as the eye could see was water. I turned to find I was surrounded by robotic guards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This voice started talking to me from some speakers. It started monologuing about its evil plan. Basically it had found a way to create a world wide flood so it decided to do it, but to feed itself it had fooled the governments into using its brainwashing program to make people "good little citizens" but what it was really doing was dehydrating the bodies for food storage. At this point I knew I was a goner anyway so I jumped off the side of the fortress and into the water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hit the water the proportions were all wrong. It was like the fortress was no larger than one of those super dump trucks with the 10 foot tall tires. I swam under it and found this weird buoyant netting was keeping it afloat. I hid under it for awhile wondering if I had to worry about sharks. The water was so diluted that it barely even tasted salty, so I figured I wouldn't have to worry about water at least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I saw them. Caught up in this net were strange looking stick figures. I realized after a second that these must be the dehydrated humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, the dehydrated people were partially released from the net, I can't recall if I did it or the thing did it to try to drown me. But I was lost in a sea of people struggling to get back to the surface when the dream ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dream #4 (This may have been the beginning the last dream, not sure)&lt;br /&gt;I was in my van driving around trying to find some place but the road was very confusing. It kept splitting up and forcing you to turn into this side street looking thing to stay on the main street and at one point I somehow got confused and ended up going the wrong way on a one way. So to get my bearings I pulled over backwards on the one way and got out of the van, but somehow where I got out I had to walk thru a parking garage of a hotel I had passed earlier, which told me that I was indeed lost cause I had gone in a circle. The parking garage had cryptic fencing and it took me several minutes to get out of it. I finally found a small passage that lead to the hotel store and left out the hotel store's front door. When I got out I was looking around and realized that my van was just in front of the hotel, so I started walking towards it and now it wasn't surrounded by a fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't recall going any further in this dream, but I vaguely seem to recall the line at the fortress started as a line with cars in it. I'm not really sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-9006318064869225309?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/9006318064869225309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=9006318064869225309' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/9006318064869225309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/9006318064869225309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/09/full-night-of-dreaming.html' title='A full night of dreaming...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1694156078132168079</id><published>2007-07-30T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T07:31:30.382-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fading</title><content type='html'>I hate when my dreams fade so fast that I don't get to have a decent recall of them. I keep telling myself that I need to write them down when I wake up, but I'm usually waking up to do something, like go to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, I remember that last night I had a dream that I was at school. It was run down looking, not at all like the campus I graduated from (De Anza) nor like the campus I will be going to (SJSU). I vaguely remember something going on in the cafeteria where I was searching for something. I also vaguely remember getting panicked cause class time was approaching and I had neither read the book nor done the homework!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's pretty much it. Well other than the walls were mostly made of wood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1694156078132168079?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1694156078132168079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1694156078132168079' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1694156078132168079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1694156078132168079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/07/fading.html' title='Fading'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-370391780887852652</id><published>2007-07-26T07:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T08:12:08.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to school, again...</title><content type='html'>I had this weird dream last night that I had gone back to college. (In real life, I am going back shortly but to a state college for my BS degree and not going to live on campus for sure.) In this dream I was looking at on campus housing because I was going to be rooming up with an old friend of mine who is blind. (He is a real friend in real life who is blind.) We were walking around this huge campus trying to find everything and figure out which classes would be most convenient for him and just get general answers to questions like where the housing was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, we ran into an old beat up looking store that sold flooring. My blind friend said we should get some tile our new place so I went around grabbing pieces for him to step on. He kept complaining that they were sharp on his feet, but I kept trying to tell him to not worry about the edges and just feel the tops. After awhile I started grabbing linoleum instead since it had no sharp edges. After bringing him the third piece he put his socks on and started sliding on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after he started sliding I notice my dad behind the counter of the store. I soon realized that he owned the store. We started chatting when my mom showed up. (They are divorced in real life.) I ducked away for some reason and overheard my mom asking my dad where I was. He said something to the affect that I'm old enough to take care of myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It gets a little fuzzy but apparently I didn't want to go with my mom at that point so I ducked out of the store and hid in the trunk of her car or something. Shortly after that I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-370391780887852652?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/370391780887852652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=370391780887852652' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/370391780887852652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/370391780887852652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/07/back-to-school-again.html' title='Back to school, again...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8760995346883388237</id><published>2007-07-25T07:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T07:55:22.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Darn creatures!</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was whacking creatures that were trying to eat my dog's food with a couple baseball bats. Everything from raccoons to lemurs were trying to get it. The last wave of creatures were a bunch of cats. The cats were the worst. I'd hit one with a bat and it would just lay down! (Don't get me wrong, I'm actually a cat person...but apparently I have some subconscious frustrations against whatever creature has been eating our dog's food in real life.) Soon the cats didn't care at all that I was whacking them. A couple of them even jump on me or rubbed up against my leg. This annoyed me cause my wife is allergic to cats! I thought to myself: "Great, now I'll have to shower when I'm done and scrub real well. Then clean the shower just to make sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After awhile of not getting anywhere with the cats I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was still early so I went back to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a few dreams after that but I only remember part of one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was living in some kind of shanty town in a little shack. There had been called a meeting for the youth of the town so I went to it after putting out some pots to catch the rain that was coming through my roof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the meeting it had already started and the missions team that was putting it on were doing little seminars. One of them was on Evolution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made a snide comment about how evolution was wrong out loud and one of the kids there challenged me on it. So I started talking about all the problems with the theory. I got shushed, so I went outside with several of the kids and continued explaining my position, but since it was raining we went into my place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It starts to get fuzzy here, but I vaguely remember looking for something and next thing I knew I was at my friends house. He was there and I went towards his downstairs bathroom, but he told me they had to renovate and now they only had one bathroom upstairs (they currently have 3 in real life). I was confused but went upstairs anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They single bathroom was smaller than any of the ones they had before, but it was super high tech, with all kinds of switches and knobs and a shower that had wrap around spray nozzles. It was actually cool despite being so small. However, as I was just starting to figure out the buttons, my friend's mom banged on the door and said she was sick and needed the restroom now, so I got out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I woke up again and stayed up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8760995346883388237?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8760995346883388237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8760995346883388237' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8760995346883388237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8760995346883388237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/07/darn-creatures.html' title='Darn creatures!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-7478703844498514082</id><published>2007-07-23T09:02:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-23T09:06:16.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Video Games rot your brain.....</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamt I was the main character from Metroid: Samus Aran.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was trapped at this weird train station area (more like a commercial train station not a passenger train station.) There was this cyborg type person guarding the path. To gain her trust I decided to recover an item she had lost. It turns out it was down inside this dark spider web covered hole. I was trying to shove me self into the holes and reach in and grab the item but the path in the hole was really long and even though I had managed to get into it and was going deeper the further I went the tighter it got and the more claustrophobic I was getting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point something startled me awake and I started to analyze my dream and I realized I was being an idiot and I should have just used the power suit's ball mode to roll into the tunnel and grab the item.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I fell back asleep...and guess what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was back in that dream, but this time I rolled up into a ball and grabbed the item. Just as I was rolling back out, I woke up again and this time didn't fall asleep again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-7478703844498514082?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/7478703844498514082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=7478703844498514082' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/7478703844498514082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/7478703844498514082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/07/video-games-rot-your-brain.html' title='Video Games rot your brain.....'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3039955072103466507</id><published>2007-07-10T08:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T08:40:03.870-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puzzle Pyramid</title><content type='html'>Last night the adventure:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was some kind of scientist and I found an upside down pyramid that turned out to be a big puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;Once I solved the puzzle it opened and revealed a spaceship inside.&lt;br /&gt;Then this kid stepped out of the ship and told us that at its speed it would take 10 billion years to get to the nearest planet. But that it would at least be an adventure..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3039955072103466507?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3039955072103466507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3039955072103466507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3039955072103466507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3039955072103466507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/07/puzzle-pyramid.html' title='Puzzle Pyramid'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4057363557663391353</id><published>2007-06-22T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T08:18:47.397-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Camp!</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I was at some kind of youth Summer camp as one of the leaders. I don't remember all the beginning parts but towards the end we were all playing in a huge wooden waterworks thing. It was tons of fun, but the play time was coming to an end and I was helping drag one of the innertubes to its storage area when I was told about a quick meeting at one of the water slide sets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dropped the innertube and walked up this dirt path onto a small hill to the top of a set of 2 water slides that were wood on the outside and some kind of slick something on the inner part. When I got to the top I saw a meeting that was taking place with the speakers at the bottom of the slides which was covered. I stood up and was listening to the speaker talk when he asked who had a birthday within a week of today. I don't in reality, but apparently I did in the dream world, so I started to walk down, but then he clarified that he meant of the youth campers. I was half way down so I just stopped where I was and watched the kids step up. 3 kids come to the stage and all of them were guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The speaker then said he had a birthday present for them. He brought out a bag and in the bag was huge tacky earrings! They were all labeled as Dennis Rodman brand. Two of the guys gave the speaker disgusted looks and rudely made it quite clear that they didn't like the gifts and stormed off the stage when people started laughing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The third guy actually put one of the earrings in one of his ears and said thanks even though he looked a little dissappointed. The speaker looked at him and said:&lt;br /&gt;"No, no. It's okay, that's not the real gift!"&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely recall him saying something else but can't remember what. He then pulled out a really nice 21 speed bike and gave it to the kid and told him that was the real gift then said something about appreciating things. The kid was stoked and rode it off the stage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4057363557663391353?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4057363557663391353/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4057363557663391353' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4057363557663391353'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4057363557663391353'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/06/summer-camp.html' title='Summer Camp!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3785370608344834113</id><published>2007-06-04T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-04T07:39:19.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Loud and proud.</title><content type='html'>Last night I had this dream where the house I was living in had very little furniture. My study only had my desk and my amp in it. For some reason I was laying on the floor of the study and I was looking at my amp. I grabbed a flashlight and started singing into it. (It was late at night so I'm guessing I didn't want to wake anyone by actually singing thru a real mic...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I started day dreaming in my dream about putting on a concert, but the day dream morphed into reality. I was standing at this big gravel area and I started singing to test the mic in my hand for sound levels. Shortly thereafter I started talking to the crowd that was beginning to form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told them that I was going to be singing from back by this gravel lot. I then told everyone to look behind them if they were on the stadium seat. I then waved over this small wall and when I did I saw that the stage and seating was over it. I was talking from a small gravel area behind the real stage. I told the crowd that I was basically giving a treat to all the people who could only afford to get into the show back on this gravel lot where there weren't even seats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then started to sing my heart out. At this point in my dream My wife started yelling at me and I snapped back into dream "reality" and was in the study again with a real mic in my hands and my amp was plugged in and I was singing loud. My wife was yelling cause I woke up one of our daughters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up in real life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3785370608344834113?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3785370608344834113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3785370608344834113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3785370608344834113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3785370608344834113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/06/loud-and-proud.html' title='Loud and proud.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-6160856235700821778</id><published>2007-05-11T08:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-11T08:27:05.329-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Crazy Mensa Jobs...</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I quit my job to start a new one with this Mensa run company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a totally even playing field, open ended job. The guy "running" it just setup multiple work stations with no cubicles. Each work space was allowed to be customized by whoever was using it. It was a decently large work area with all kinds of different setups. There was one area that was all curves in design with orange and purple coloring. Another was more stark with just a row of computers on top of a table with comfy looking chairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I soon found out that everyone was extremely intelligent and given total latitude to do whatever job they wanted to serve the company. To be perfectly honest it looked like everyone was pretty much playing at work. The guy running it was giving me a tour and told me that the company encouraged creative and out of the box thinking. At this point I almost got run over by a couple R/C cars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a little blurry here, but next I remember it was later that night and the company was having a party on the premises. It looked like everyone was there and a lot of people were wearing costumes. I vaguely remember talking to some people and next thing I know its really late and only a few people are still there and the guy running it has decided to close up and go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I woke up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-6160856235700821778?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/6160856235700821778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=6160856235700821778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6160856235700821778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/6160856235700821778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/05/of-crazy-mensa-jobs.html' title='Of Crazy Mensa Jobs...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-3151787815500520891</id><published>2007-04-16T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-16T08:38:15.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Invasion!</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, the cylons invaded earth, but instead of nuking it they used their clone cylons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone I knew was one and often I ran into multiples of the same one. I just started indiscriminately shooting them down, but kept wondering how I would know if I ran into a real person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up with a bloody nose and a dog scratching to be let out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-3151787815500520891?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/3151787815500520891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=3151787815500520891' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3151787815500520891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/3151787815500520891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/04/invasion.html' title='Invasion!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-8961994005656115064</id><published>2007-03-28T09:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T09:09:49.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Of acid and levees</title><content type='html'>In my dream the night before last I was with a group of friends hanging out (The "friends" in my dream were not people I know in Real Life at all...)  when this guy comes over and starts handing out sheets of acid and my "friends" all start getting high. They were using lighters on the sheets to somehow "activate" the acid. I walked out of the room and stumbled on a couple more of my friends getting high (these two were actually a couple I know in Real Life and probably the last 2 people on the world you would ever think would get high.) I got rather disturbed because the lady is someone I know who has a young kid so I tried to get her to stop taking the acid, but she just resisted me. So I grabbed her sheet of acid and started grabbing everyone's sheets and after I grabbed them all took off running. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After awhile I ran back to the house to see what happened and there was a cop outside. I walked up to the cop and tried to explain that I had taken the acid sheets from the people inside to try and help them, but my words were coming out funny and the cop's face was starting to melt. I realized that I was getting a contact high from the sheets and suddenly I was worried that cop was going to arrest me since I was clearly high and was holding several sheets of acid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a dream that I went to the grocery store with my wife and my friend Darin. While my wife was shopping I stopped at a manga counter the store had setup and started perusing the Inuyasha manga because I was curious about the differences between the manga and the TV show. As I was doing that Darin walked away. I stayed there a little longer and then went to figure out what Darin was doing. I found out the grocery store also had a bar in it and Darin was sitting there. Apparently a couple other patrons had challenged him to a drinking game (for those who don't know, in Real Life, Darin is a big guy and can hold his liquor quite well). I laughed to myself knowing the other guys were going to lose. I didn't really want to stick around and watch them drink, though so I went to leave. Right before I left I notice the game start and the bartender gave Darin a drink and called it a "Wilkins" or something like that. Darin took a sip grimaced and told that bartender that it was just a plain old Sam Adams. Then he downed it as I left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the store and caught up with my wife when I realized that I had left behind the manga I had bought. I ran back to the store and saw that they were closing. One of the clerks was dropping down a big gate over the door so I ran up and slid under it and hurriedly explained that I left my books. When I looked around I realized the grocery store had changed from a Safeway-like store to an Asian Fish market even including signs all over in Chinese. I grabbed my manga and slid under the gate again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By this time my wife had already left so I started running home. I ran and ran and ran. I ran across a field and suddenly I was riding a bike and crossing several sets of train tracks that were in an uncontrolled intersection so I was very careful to check for trains. Then suddenly I was running again with the bike nowhere in sight. Next thing I knew I was jumping a gate and was running along a levee that was 3 inches wide at the top and 6 inches wide at the bottom and about 3 feet tall. On the left side it was full of water to the top and on the right there was a little bit of mud and a lot of rocks. I kept running on the top for sometime but kept losing my footing so I jumped down to the rock and mud side and hoped the levee didn't break while I was down there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was still running there when I woke up to our dog nosing me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-8961994005656115064?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/8961994005656115064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=8961994005656115064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8961994005656115064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/8961994005656115064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/03/of-acid-and-levees.html' title='Of acid and levees'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2297004326749541787</id><published>2007-03-26T08:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-26T08:11:56.735-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To wake and be lost.</title><content type='html'>I had a whacked dream last night and it was one of those dreams that really sticks with you and messes with your head after you wake up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream last night some of my friends and I were having lunch on a picnic table under a tree somewhere. We were all jabbering about inconsequential stuff when my friend Darin taps my shoulder and asks me a the question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Isn't that so &amp; so?" (So &amp; so being the name of one my ex girlfriends from some time ago.) I look and tell him "no" because the girl walking by us is skinny and my ex was never skinny. But Darin asks me if I'm sure, so I take another look and she happens to look over towards us and I realize it is my ex! She either doesn't see me or doesn't recognize me and keeps walking by. We go back to jabbering about random stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few minutes later I decide to go talk to my ex. (In real life I have been thinking alot about my past and some of the things that went on and have been talking to various people I knew before and in the bad situations trying to make things right. Well, I had been a total jerk to this ex...) I wanted to apologize for how things ended. So I started walking towards where she was walking when I saw her walk into a mini mall thing. I picked up the pace to catch her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first place in the mall was a Kentucky Fried Chicken and I swore I saw her in it. I walked in and the line for the place was massive. I was trying to look around people to find her without much luck. I was standing near the front of the line getting dirty looks from people in the back and middle of the line when I caught a glimpse of her walking into a different place and I cut through the line to get out of the KFC.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't for the life of me remember what kind of place it was that I went into next but it had lines, too. I think it may have been a hair cutting place cause when I found my ex she was sitting in a chair. At this point Darin caught up with me and was gasping for air. I said hello to my ex. She looked at me funny. I started talking her and started to stumble out an apology for how things were and stuff when she cut me off and dropped a bomb.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said: "That's fine, but I still don't want you in Alec's life. She's done just fine without you and you haven’t been around so we don't need you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In real life, this was the girl I lost my virginity to. Well, we lost our virginities together...we were dumb and did not use any 'protection' at all. When I broke it off there were some harsh words and we never spoke again. I don't even recall seeing her ever again. Even though I had stopped in front of her place a few dozen times and thought about walking up and seeing if she was home, I never actually had the guts to do it and as the years passed, the idea only grew sillier and sillier.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This information slammed me like a ton of bricks. I looked down at my wedding ring and fiddled with it. I looked back at her and told her that I had no idea that she had even been pregnant. I told her that wasn't why I was apologizing. I told her that no one had told me. She gave me this stunned look and it appeared that she had assumed I looked her up and found her for that very reason. Her harsh expression melted and she asked if I wanted to meet Alec. I said "yes" and we walked out of that mini mall and down the street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She told me she was attending De Anza college (a real community college not far from where I live and that I attended not long ago) with her husband. At this point a youn looking guy walked up and took her back pack. She said that it was her husband, but I don't remember the name. She then told him that she would be picking up Alec from the Child Development Center (the CDC is a department at De Anza that teaches early childhood stuff and serves as a daycare for the college). He agreed and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got to the CDC I saw that the child was not 10 like she should have been if the timeline was correct, but rather just a baby, but somehow in my dream was not a problem. (Dreams really need a lesson in continuity.) When I saw the baby I was too stunned to talk. My ex jut held her in front of me as we walked down a flight of stairs. When we got to the bottom there was this strange door that opened similar to a garage door except that it opened outwards instead of in and was the size of a normal door except that the opening was so small we had to crawl to get inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we were in she explained that it was the dorm she was living in. I looked around and it was like some kind of weird bunker. There were about 2 dozen bunk beds all lined up next to each other with zero privacy and at the end of the room next to us there was another room that had a chain link fence and door. Behind it was several computers and a couple guys playing computer games. She explained that it was a Coed dorm and the she and her husband were hoping to get out soon. She laid the baby down and I just watched Alec as she cooed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I fell asleep on the bunk above and when I woke up my ex and the baby were gone. I looked around feeling drained and disoriented. I talked briefly to one of the other people in the dorm to ask if he knew where they went, but he didn't. I went back under the weird gate/door and this time it had puddles of water around it so I got the knees of my pants wet. When I got back outside I was just standing at De Anza college looking around not seeing them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I woke up and I still feel drained and disoriented. It was just enough real to make me wonder.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2297004326749541787?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2297004326749541787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2297004326749541787' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2297004326749541787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2297004326749541787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/03/to-wake-and-be-lost.html' title='To wake and be lost.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-4176144643991486965</id><published>2007-02-16T06:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T06:24:26.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lava pit</title><content type='html'>Last night I had a dream that lava started spewing from my lawn.&lt;br /&gt;There were five firemen there trying to help. 2 fell in the lava but I was able to save one by grabbing him and tossing him in my bathtub.&lt;br /&gt;Then it was like dream rewinded and I was watching the fireman fall into the lava again, but this time I saved him by grabbing him and hosing him down with my garden hose. After that I hosed down the lava pool and it partially solidified. The other firemen got back to us and I warned them not to step in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other firemen informed us that we needed to leave now, but I insisted on going to the bathroom first. My wife decided that since I was using the can, she had time to make a microwave dinner and our eldest daughter went to her room to get her dolls. (We must have all been insane!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got woken up just as we started to actually run from the house...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-4176144643991486965?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/4176144643991486965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=4176144643991486965' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4176144643991486965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/4176144643991486965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/02/lava-pit.html' title='Lava pit'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-2526797166166269449</id><published>2007-02-07T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T08:20:44.273-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You've got to be kidding me...</title><content type='html'>I just got a BANK OF NIGERIA spam email!!! I thought those had died off a few years ago.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another thought:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just read a Reader's Digest article on Phishing emails. I have only one thought:&lt;br /&gt;Just how dumb are people?&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, if you have been phished, turn off your internet connection right now. You are too dangerous to yourself to use the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IDN spoofed websites, okay, I can kinda understand that.&lt;br /&gt;Virus ridden attachments from someone you trust, I can kinda understand that.&lt;br /&gt;Using IE as your browser and getting nailed, I can kinda understand that.&lt;br /&gt;Clicking a link in your email and giving up personal info??? What were you thinking?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truely sad part: the person phished gets all their stuff back, the companies that get scammed by the phisher take the hits. The person phished just fills out a few forms and they get their credit back, their money back and get to change their private info with the real website.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'll make one concession. If you are over 50 and reading this I'll exclude you with one provision:&lt;br /&gt;Please stop treating the internet like it's a toaster. Yes, anyone can work a toaster even if they have never seen one before. Put bread in; push lever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The internet is more like a high end sports car. Sure you can get the basics done without much training, but if you never learned how to use a stick, you're gonna break something. If you put in the wrong gas you're gonna hurt the engine. If you aren't used to driving that fast your gonna hurt yourself (or somebody else).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are the least bit uncertain of something, &lt;b&gt;Ask your grandkids!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internet 101:&lt;br /&gt;Never give anyone your info unless you know exactly who they are!&lt;br /&gt;Never post anything you don't mind being spread all over the internet!&lt;br /&gt;If you are using Microsoft Internet Explorer, &lt;b&gt;You are not secure!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if you use a good browser, such as &lt;a href="http://www.opera.com"&gt;Opera Web Browser&lt;/a&gt;, you should still be careful!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-2526797166166269449?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/2526797166166269449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=2526797166166269449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2526797166166269449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/2526797166166269449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/02/youve-got-to-be-kidding-me.html' title='You&apos;ve got to be kidding me...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-1514021620660511871</id><published>2007-01-29T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-29T07:58:26.984-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stabbity</title><content type='html'>I had a dream last night, but this one takes a little preface:&lt;br /&gt;I used to play world of warcraft (WOW) about 4 months ago. My wife didn't really care for the amount of time I played the game so I quit it to prove she was more important. I figured I would prove to her I could manage my "addiction" and eventually start playing again, but this time use time management so it wouldn't be a problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several months passed and enough stuff was going on that I didn't really notice...too much. After Blizzard (the company that makes WOW) announced the delay in the up coming expansion pack to Feb 07 I figured, I'd just let it alone until January, then I could start up again a little bit before the new content. Then Blizzard switched to a January release! So I let the release pass and then talked about it with my wife and she wasn't very hot on the idea of me playing again... :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a week of promises and ideas, last night she finally conceded that she would be okay with as long as I limited myself to one night a week. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During this time there was some talk of moving the Guild I was in to another server so I checked out if I could still do server transfers while my account was inactive and it turned out that I could. But I didn't end up doing the transfer. (Neither did my guild.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now without further ado:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;My Dream:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I logged onto WOW and clicked my main character Savajtreyl. I got into the game and started checking things out and figuring out what did or did not work with my user interface (UI) since the UI is custom, sometimes thing get broken when Blizzard releases new content. Most of it was working fine, but for some reason I had a whole set of buttons that were not moveable and stuck mostly off screen. It was annoying but not a crisis and I was really interested and checking out some of the NEW STUFF!!! So I just ignored it and started taking flights to get to where the new stuff was, when I realized that the chat windows were really quiet. Then I noticed that there were not that many people around in Orgrimmar (one of the larger cities).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought this was a bit strange, but I got on my flight anyway. I caught a flight to get to the new content which somehow included flying over the barrens (a VERY busy area, but not on the way to the new content at all!) I noticed there was no chat their either (this is weird for a two reasons: 1. When in flight you see chat from the location you started your flight, not the ones you fly over. 2. Assuming I could see the Barrens' chat, it's famous for its constant chatter which is usually rather immature and centered around Chuck Norris or bodily functions...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then took a better look at my character and realized that his name had been changed to "George Shanks". If you do a server transfer and someone on the new server has your name you have to change your name, but I swore that I had not made the server transfer and I didn't remember changing my character's name! I immediately tried to put a message in Guild Chat, but it wouldn't let me (which means you don't have a guild.) I opened the guild info panel and sure enough it was blank!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I got a little annoyed. There was the stupid half missing buttons and I was stuck on a dead server with no guildies! I decided I would go check out some of the new content with my rogue then I'd log off and pay the $25 to transfer him back to his original server. At this point my flight landed in Stranglethorn Vale (it's not possible to fly from Org to SV but okay...) and I went straight towards Zul Gurub(ZG). ZG is NOT new content so I have no idea why I went that direction. I stopped before I got there and went and killed some Ogres in that area. (Enemies that my character could kill be sneezing on them...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a few kills, I logged off because I was now wondering if any of my other characters had been transfered. (Not very logical since you have to transfer one character at a time and I only even looked at transfering my rogue, but so far logic has nothing to do with this dream.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I vaguely remember looking at my druid character, but then I got woken up...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-1514021620660511871?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/1514021620660511871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=1514021620660511871' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1514021620660511871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/1514021620660511871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/01/stabbity.html' title='Stabbity'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-116784237009542210</id><published>2007-01-03T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T08:39:30.120-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Play time is over....</title><content type='html'>So last night in my dream I am playing some kind of war game with my friends. At some point I get hit and am injured from the waist down and immobile. So my buddies are helping me move about and I am acting injured. My younger daughter comes up to me and asks if I'm okay, and I let her know that we are just pretending for our game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look up and a tank rolls in as part of the game. So my buddies move me again into a house so we have cover to fight the tank. While we are in the house another buddy calls me and starts telling about an experiment he is conducting. At this point I can suddenly see him as he is talking to me on the phone. (I'm not there in his lab, my dream was just going movie style...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's telling me that he is experimenting with something called 'Silidium'. At this point the conversation fades to the point where I can't hear it and at some point he hangs up with me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my view is panning thru his lab and I see a dead body on one of his lab tables and then see him walk by and toss a partially putrifying really buff arm into a sink. He then dumps silidium into the sink and throws a switch. Electricity cackles. The arm reacts to the silidium and electricity by suddenly expanding into this strange tentacled creature. Somehow I knew that the arm was the arm of a zombie and that this creature is also undead. I see it grab my friend and start impaling him with tentacles and cocooning his body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My view goes back to where I actually was and I'm fighting the tank, but our medic is worried that I might have permanent damage and is concerned. The medic wants me to have a bowel movement. (For those that don't know, not being able to have a bowel movement when you have a back injury is a VERY bad sign.) The phone rings and I grab it. It's my friend in the lab again and he is trying to get us to come to his lab. I sense something is wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My view changes again and I see him cocooned in these freakish tentacles with blood coming out of his mouth as he talks to me on the phone. My view comes back to myself and I am trying to keep him believing I am interested but that I am busy at the moment. He suddenly starts talking in this strange disembodied voice and making odd noises so I drop the phone and call my buddies back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell them that I have a strange feeling about my other friend and his lab and ask if any of them heard an explosion from that direction. I then tell them that I have a bad feeling and I think we are going to be attacked. I look out and see the tank leaving because the game is over. I turn and see that there are now white bars separating the family room we are in and the next room over in this house. Behind the bars are zombies coming towards us. We decide we need to run since we don't have any real weapons. I grab my daughter (who is 5) and take off with my buddies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of them spots a large SUV so we jump into it, hotwire it and take off. As we are driving we realize that most of the city still doesn't know what is going on. For some reason we decide that the only way to really get away for sure is to get a boat, so we drive onto a boat lot and steal one. As we are pulling away, I'm hanging onto the bumper trying to get the latch to lock and the salesman is chasing us, screaming. He keeps yelling that we can't steal that one because he just sold it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We get to water and launch the boat, but suddenly it is no longer the nice sized speed boat we stole, it is an over sized seadoo thing that takes on too much water. We stay with it anyway, but quickly realize that the water we dumped it into doesn't actually lead to the bay! (San Francisco bay)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we drag it up on shore, but now the SUV is gone! We carry it for awhile but its no use, it's too heavy. I look around and see a waterpark and start trying to figure out how to get to the bay, when I see the first sign of general panic. We run over to the screaming people and see zombies attacking. Once again we run since we have no real weapons. At this point my daughter is not with me, but I have this thought that she is safe somewhere, like I left her with her mom, but I didn't see that happen in the dream...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run past the water park and come across this pond. In one section of the pond there is the boat version of a go-cart race going on with kids piloting the boats. I try to warn people, but no one listens. I run across part of the pond cause it is only a foot or so deep and then I realize that zombies could hide in the water. Sure enough zombie arms start reaching out at me and run faster to get out of the pond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I run hard and into a small forested area and soon realize that I am back at the house I was in originally!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look into one of the windows and see my oldest daughter (she's 6) in the room with a 'dead' zombie sitting in a chair. I jump thru the window and she hugs me. I look at the zombie and realize that it is indeed no longer 'undead' but just plain dead. My daughter tells me that it's the water and she spits some on the 'dead' zombie. I look at the containers she found and realize that they are silidium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the room there is a baseball bat and a katana. I coat them both with the silidium, just in time for a zombie to come in the room. I bash it with the bat and it works. The zombie crumples up and expires. I realize that my daughter is covered in the silidium, so I cover myself too. As I leave the room, I run into one of my buddies, so I give him the sword and keep the bat...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tell him that the source must be my friend's lab, but just as we are leaving the house to go to the lab.........I wake up........&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-116784237009542210?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/116784237009542210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=116784237009542210' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/116784237009542210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/116784237009542210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2007/01/play-time-is-over.html' title='Play time is over....'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-116693549960253001</id><published>2006-12-23T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T20:46:18.773-08:00</updated><title type='text'>mmmmm, motivational!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://img405.imageshack.us/img405/9383/lawfulevilhq4.jpg" alt="Image Hosted by ImageShack.us" width="375" height="300" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-116693549960253001?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/116693549960253001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=116693549960253001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/116693549960253001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/116693549960253001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/12/mmmmm-motivational.html' title='mmmmm, motivational!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-116663914523428971</id><published>2006-12-20T10:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T10:25:45.303-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Dreams...life costs an arm and a leg!</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night my family and I were in LA, so we decided to drop by Disneyland&lt;br /&gt;When we go there we decided we really would like to go in, so I went and checked out the pricing thinking i could put in on a credit card&lt;br /&gt;But it turned out that parking was $600 for the day and it was $100 per person&lt;br /&gt;So $1200 to go to Disney land with the family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;btw, tech war is now 30,000 words! Half way to a regular sized novel. 1/3 the way to a Grisham or Crichton sized novel!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-116663914523428971?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/116663914523428971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=116663914523428971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/116663914523428971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/116663914523428971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/12/in-dreamslife-costs-arm-and-leg.html' title='In Dreams...life costs an arm and a leg!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-115324742168181535</id><published>2006-07-18T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-18T11:30:21.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tech war really shaping up...</title><content type='html'>Holy Cow! I've been mostly sticking to the 1000 words per day goal and I already have  over 14,000 words! And I really like how the story is coming out. Transitioning from short stories to Novels hasn't been nearly as hard as I imagined. I have 14% of the size of a good novel and I feel that about 14% of the story has been told...heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-115324742168181535?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/115324742168181535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=115324742168181535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/115324742168181535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/115324742168181535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/07/tech-war-really-shaping-up.html' title='Tech war really shaping up...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-115205917885235064</id><published>2006-07-04T17:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-07-04T17:26:18.863-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Started writing again.</title><content type='html'>Working on my Tech War story. Funny, I setup writer's blog for two of my stories, but right now I feel the passion for the Tech War story...heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A preview of the work in progress can be seen at:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.hordesga.net/viewtopic.php?t=1443&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-115205917885235064?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/115205917885235064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=115205917885235064' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/115205917885235064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/115205917885235064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/07/started-writing-again.html' title='Started writing again.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-115030644105057628</id><published>2006-06-14T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T10:34:01.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm an Idiot...</title><content type='html'>So things have been tight lately. I had to borrow some cash from my brother to get my bills paid. He was very kind and gave me an extra $60 so I could take my wife out for our anniversary at the end of this month. I was very happy and so was she...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I clipped somebody in a parking lot. The had a minor ding in their car, not small enough to ignore, but big enough to be a big problem, especially if the insurance companies got involved.........well.......yup, I gave em the $60. And now we have no cash for our Anniversary dinner, sigh. I feel horrible. I really wish I hadn't had that momentary lapse of judgement. (I tried to cut into the parking spot too closely, totally my fault. Kinda wish they had been pulling out, but they weren't even in their car when it happened.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-115030644105057628?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/115030644105057628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=115030644105057628' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/115030644105057628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/115030644105057628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/06/im-idiot.html' title='I&apos;m an Idiot...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-114597464020852589</id><published>2006-04-25T06:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T11:18:14.188-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Assassination</title><content type='html'>Wow. Last night's dream was intense.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hanging out with my friend, Darin, at some business that had weird architecture. I even hit my head on a low hanging spot. When we left I was having a hard time finding my left shoe.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally found it I realized that we were witnessing a gang shoot out. So we took off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to some bar like place and stayed there a little while then I went home. At home my wife had me take her to an oil change place so we could get the "ladies day" discount. I left her there and wandered around a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking around for awhile when out of the blue it was night and I was driving a compact sedan home with some groceries. As I was driving along a cop pulled me over. For some reason I got out of the car and sat down with a blanket around me. When the cop pulled in front of me I just apologized and said this is what usually happens so I just did it first. The cop shrugged it off and asked me if I recognized the people in his car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did of course. It was the president and vice president and their families all crammed in one car. Half of them piled out of the cop car and got into mine. I was shaking hands and whatnots, while the cop explained that they had been found and rescued. Apparently, they had been kidnapped. Bush showed me his hands and they were cut up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got in the car and they started driving. We went down this one road when a black car pulled out in front of us and Cheney cursed. "They" had found us. He tried to whip my car around but the black car immediately rammed us. Everyone jumped out and ran towards this gate that had to cops in riot gear protecting it. I ran with them and watched the cops die as I pushed thru the gate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a warehouse up ahead and saw that Bush and some of his aids were already almost to it. I ran as hard as I could. Some of us didn't even make it to the warehouse. Once inside I witnessed Cheney, Bush, their families and even some of their grandkids get killed as I ran and ran. I was the only one left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that the warehouse contained stacks upon stacks of movies on VHS. The bullets kept knocking over stacks as I ran thru. I ran around a corner and saw some ladder like stairs that looked like they might lead to somewhere I could hide. When I was close to the top, I found a spot that I would have to come around into the open to get past. I looked around a couple times, saw that it was clear, but found out it wasn't when I tried to go. I looked right at one of the assassins. He shouted and ran towards the stairwell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I noticed that the movies this stairwell led to were about terrorists and I wondered if that made the guy extra mad. I jumped down hoping to confuse the guy a little and ran into another room. In that room their were a few holes leading down to something, so I jumped into one, but unfortunately it was a dead end. It appeared to be a mini shrine, like one of those live art rooms artists make to express themselves, that was dedicated to one of the terrorist movies. The guy chasing me jumped down, too and I desperately ran back up the ladder to get out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I was totally scared out of my mind and I tried several different holes to hide in but most of them seemed too open and/or dead ends. I finally jumped in one hole that was a room of holes. I pulled up the cardboard covering more holes and dove in. After a going down a couple empty rooms I found a hole that was just into dirt and was a very small tunnel just barely my body width around. I crawled into it. (For those that don't know. I'm mildly claustrophobic. This upped my fear factor quite a bit.) I closed my eyes and just kept crawling scared out of my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly had a bird's eye view of the room that was on top of the tunnel I was crawling in and I saw the guy looking in the tunnels trying to find me and I knew I was down there only a few turns away at a dead end wondering if I was going to be able to back out. I was also reliving the horror of watching so many people die. When mercifully my dream ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sitting still kinda shaking from that nightmare as I write this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-114597464020852589?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/114597464020852589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=114597464020852589' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114597464020852589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114597464020852589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/04/assassination.html' title='Assassination'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-114589418067614798</id><published>2006-04-24T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-24T08:56:20.693-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fatherhood</title><content type='html'>I just read this article:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.wnd.com/news/printer-friendly.asp?ARTICLE_ID=49074"&gt;The contempt shown to parents of large families&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Spoiler Warning}&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is my favorite quote and a pretty good summary of it:&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why is it that even many snagogues today are not children friendly? Why are people impressed that Jay Leno owns 20 motorcycles, but disgusted that some religious families choose to have 10 children?&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's not finesse the response. We all know why. A world that has lost its innocence has trouble appreciating beings who are innocent. A world that has become selfish has soured to the idea of leading a life of selflessness. A world that has become grossly materialistic is turned off to the idea of more dependents who consume resources. And a world that mistakenly believes that freedom means a lack of responsibility is opposed to the idea of needy creatures who "tie you down."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They can go fly a kite.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By just looking at my children, I become more innocent. By loving them, I become more noble. By spending my money on them rather than myself, I find transcendence. And by being a father and liberating all of the love in my heart, my spirit soars free. I work hard to support a large family and I give up no pleasures in doing so because my children are my foremost pleasure.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am often asked by women dating men how to tell whether they are marriage material. I tell them, "See if he enjoys children." A man who loves children is playful. He will spend his life joking with his wife because he loves to see her laugh, and will flirt with her because he loves to see her smile.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when husbands and wives worked hard to ensure they could afford the blessings of a large family. Today, the higher your earning bracket the fewer children you have, but then we always knew that many turn money from a blessing into a curse.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before he died, the Lubavitcher Rebbe launched a campaign asking parents to have one more child than they originally planned. It is a campaign that a dwindling Jewish community should revive as it continues to disappear."&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amen!&lt;br&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-114589418067614798?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/114589418067614798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=114589418067614798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114589418067614798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114589418067614798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/04/fatherhood.html' title='Fatherhood'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-114537239386375587</id><published>2006-04-18T07:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-18T07:59:53.886-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vampires and bad rock...</title><content type='html'>So last night I had a dream that I was hanging out with two girls, one black and one white, both vampires who could turn into bats or succubi at will. Everytime I told them I was leaving one them would say: "No your not" and give me an evil look. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then went to a rock concert of a band that I have heard a couple songs for and like, but for the life of me I can't think of the bands name anymore. (Darn dream memory recall, probably not even a real band in reality....) We got there and a bunch of goth wannabes were watching the concert. Apparently the back rows of the concert were in a bookstore, cause there were book shelves. They had setup monitors to make it easier to see the band. The music was horribly cliche and cheesy. I kept thinking that this must be one of those bands with only one good song that gets air play and the rest of their songs suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some guy noticed my grimaces and said to me: "They only play this style when doing these smaller concerts. To get the death metal songs you have to go to major concerts." um, lame!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked up at the monitors and realized the singer was messing around on stage with some model and decided this was the dumbest concert ever and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that the black vampire was totally absorbed with the music so I thought I had the perfect escape. We had been traveling by boat and I saw the other vampire go to the lady's room. I took off but when I got to the boat the white one was waiting for me in succubus form and laughing. She had sank the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I waited outside for the concert to end and we took the bus to whereever we were going next. In the bus the girls kept messing with people's heads and when the bus stopped they turned into bats and flew off the bus. Strangely, I picked up their stuff and followed. Just as I was about to leave the bus, I farted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up.......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-114537239386375587?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/114537239386375587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=114537239386375587' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114537239386375587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114537239386375587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/04/vampires-and-bad-rock.html' title='Vampires and bad rock...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-114469144406540606</id><published>2006-04-10T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-10T10:50:44.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Movies</title><content type='html'>Is it just me or is Hollywood really churning out some serious crap lately?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have netflix and when I first got it my rental queue (the list of movies you want them to send you.) was huge 200+ movies. (This has to do with my absolute hate of commercials, too. I don't watch TV series until they come out on DVD. It's bad enuf I waste time actually watching TV shows, I might as well not waste extra time watching studid commercials....) Lately it gets down to less than 100 cause everytime I check the new releases, nothing good is out or the stuff that sounds interesting is rated "R" for nudity, sexuality, harsh language, etc. (That is one of my problems right there. Has hollywood lost its creativity so much that they think the only way they will get us to watch a movie is to show some actress' boobs off?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But to make it worse I rent something and it stinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most recent one:&lt;br /&gt;Stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, horrid. The only way it could have been more predictable would have been to tell you in the first minute how it was going to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This total cop-off of "the sixth sense" (a good movie in my opinion) failed to deliver any suspense or mystery. It's labeled as "horror" and yet wasn't scary at all. The "freakish" cinematography was more "sea sick" nauseating than actually disturbing or...well...freakish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the music was unimpressive. It kept meandering, like the composer couldn't decide whether he was trying to scare, depress or give a sense of eerieness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I actually finished watching this. I kept hoping for some kinda of twist at the end, but alas, the only twist was a total groaner. (I won't tell you, check a spoiler site if you want to know...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm kinda curious how they convinced Ewan McGregor to star in this crap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-114469144406540606?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/114469144406540606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=114469144406540606' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114469144406540606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114469144406540606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/04/movies.html' title='Movies'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-114351590133855551</id><published>2006-03-27T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-03-27T19:18:21.363-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sucralose</title><content type='html'>This crap is really starting to piss me off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the FDA chose to use really loose regulations and manufacturers can put it in stuff without warning you. And not only can they, they are! Like mad its popping up in totally unexpected places. I found it in regular hot cocoa. Not sugar free hot cocoa, not "lite" hot cocoa, regular fricking cocoa!@!!! Grrrrrrrrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't understand why these stinking companies think they need to spend millions of research dollars to find the next carcinogenic, nasty after-taste, funky regular taste sugar substitutes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, yes, I do have diabetic friends. Some of them even drink diet crap. Don't even get me started on how retarded that is....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-114351590133855551?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/114351590133855551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=114351590133855551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114351590133855551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114351590133855551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/03/sucralose.html' title='Sucralose'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-114054393590636045</id><published>2006-02-21T08:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T14:45:53.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dinos and time travel</title><content type='html'>So last night I had this trippy multi part dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first part I was just a kid about 10. We were on this tour of a research facility; a genetics research facility. They were actually building new creatures. We had seen a bunch of various diferent labs with computers and ideas. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One lab had a guy working on a gecko that could more than just regrow its tail. It could actually reproduce by splitting in two (like an amoeba), but the geckos were poisonous. Some how I accidently let one go. The guy immediately hit it with this little pointed device, but it had already started multiplying. He desperately tried to gather up all of the geckos and shove them in a jar, but he missed one. I watched as they melted in the jar. He explained that the pointer had an enzyme on it that the did that to the geckos for safety reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at this point that I found out that apparently the lab was doing some "Jurassic Park" style stuff cause a T-rex walked by outside.The scientist freaked out and ran away leaving me alone. I jumped the counter in his lab and hid under the desk. This desk was weirdly shaped. It was a corner desk that was a quarter circle with the back to the wall. It was a secured to the wall so and the underneath only opened towards the wall's corner so it was some what secure but I just knew that hiding would only last so long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point I stuck my head out. I kept thinking I could be safe somewhere, maybe if I could get to a car that could get away from this place. At this point a lady scientist ran by and saw me. She grabbed me and helped me out of the desk. We started running. As we were running I saw many scientists and my classmates get eaten by T-rex's and raptors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point, I "switched characters" I was now my adult self running with this lady scientist and the kid I was moments earlier. We found this huge SUT (You know the SUV's that can convert to a Truck) and somehow it was either her's or mine or we just found the keys. We ran in and I threw the kid in the truck. We then spent awhile driving away. Apparently with one of the T-rex's on our trail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said she knew where an armored tank thing was and we should use it to kill the T-rex's and help save the other survivors. But when we got to it we found out that it had apparently been designed to hold a midget with his head popping out the top. Oh yeah, that would be real smart in a fight with a T-rex!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we then decided to keep driving. At some point in this drive, I suddenly was alone in the truck and a teenager!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stopped at my school which was possibly a college...but not sure it had the feel of a High School, too. Anyway I stopped to talk to the school councilor. I was kinda distraught about this whole thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know, I'm an adult again and I am walking towards the councilor's office. I realize that I am her husband. I open the door and find the teenager and her behind the door and he is desperately trying to get his clothes back on! I am, of course, the jealous husband and chase him out the office, yelling! I go back into her office and start yelling at her, when, Poof!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm the teen again, driving the truck...then it gets blurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing I know, I am actually my self! Woohoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on a laptop computer, apparently researching comedians of the 50's and 60's. Many of them have video clips. One of them is a black guy whose "big joke" apparently is a 3 foot long 6 inch radius balloon that he fills with random items. And then proceeds to do "black men have huge penuses" type jokes. The video clip showed one time that the items he put in made it actually look just like a real penus! I had to show this to someone it was freaky real looking! So I called my wife, it was at this point I realized I was looking at this in the bathroom?!? She looked at it and said it was gross. I then finished going to the bathroom and walked into the living room to show my bestfriend, who was also at my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next thing he and I knew, we were teleported into the 50's, just outside the theater this guy was doing his show. We went in to catch the last part. From the website, we knew that a guy was about to kill this comedian. We tried to warn the comedian, but, well we all know about race relations in the 50's, we couldn't even get near the guy. Realizing that we had seen a picture of the assasin on the website, we went out side to look for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we found him, there was a mild confrontation which lead to the guy starting to draw his guns on me, but a cop walked by and he hid them back behind his back and Darin (my best friend) grabbed his hands. At this point we took his guns. He ran into the studio anyway. We chased him to the door, but didn't go in cause the theater was full of cops! The guy whipped out a third gun and started shooting at the comedian, who apparently was just leaving. I looked closer and realized he was shooting a staple gun! The cops jumped up and started laughing. The would be assasin ran out of the theater and we just walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then had a big talk about messing up the time line. I gave my theories on time travel and paradoxes. (Maybe I will blog that later...) We basically decided that we were gonna be stuck here and that we had to best make the best of it. And realize that if we did make it back we could have messed somethings up. My best friend didn't totally agree but we both acknowledged that it wasn't going to be a "Back to the Future" type thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point somehow the comedian was walking with us and he somehow found out we stopped the guy. We talked a little and I realized that we were here &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;after&lt;/span&gt; the assasination of King. This would put as in the 60's not the 50's (apparently my assumptions were wrong...but I still felt like it was the 50's, darn dream logic). This brought the comedian to tears, cause apparently it was still very recent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, we both somehow got motorcycles and were going to down a long stretch of highway when he got pulled over. I told him that he better say that he had his dad's license. (lol. Even our dad's wouldn't have been driving age in the 60's, certainly not old enough to be our dad's and the license would have a Birtdate in the future...talk about lame ideas...) The cop was a lady cop and she was being pretty cool about the whole thing (Darin is pretty smooth in real life...), when for some reason the cop asks him his mom's name. He uses one of his much older relation's name (not sure if it was a great aunt or just a made up name with same last name as his mom's maiden name...), but the cop asks if he is any relation to Heidi (his mom). He says yes, that he is her brother. (doh, you gave wrong last name for that dude.) The cop's eyes get kinda watery and she says we should come with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drive for a long time to this place that kinda looks like a tent city. Tons of huge tents all over. It's all just women. The cop explains that its a kinda rehab place. (Apparently in my dream world his mom got hooked on prescription drugs to get ahead in college, not true in real life, not to mention she wasn't in college in the 50's!) Darin went over to his mom and talked to her. Not sure what he said the details are fuzzy, but I remember the cop saying that he must really care for his sister. I looked around and realized that the place was a dump and the ladies there were in pretty bad shape.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;End of File...wakey wakey time...oy. Odd dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-114054393590636045?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/114054393590636045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=114054393590636045' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114054393590636045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/114054393590636045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/02/dinos-and-time-travel.html' title='Dinos and time travel'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113852487309578853</id><published>2006-01-29T00:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-29T00:54:33.106-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nessie!</title><content type='html'>So I dreamt that I found the Loch Ness monster, but it wasn't in Loch Ness, it was behind some kind of Yacht Club/Restaurant thing. It was swimming around bumping the jet skis.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113852487309578853?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113852487309578853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113852487309578853' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113852487309578853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113852487309578853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/01/nessie.html' title='Nessie!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113781427539832994</id><published>2006-01-20T19:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-20T19:31:15.410-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Butt kicking....</title><content type='html'>This Quarter I signed up for a weight lifting class and a karate class for 2 reasons:&lt;br /&gt;1) I am out of shape&lt;br /&gt;2) I need PE credits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my first classes that we actually did something this week. Thursday weight lifting and Friday Karate.....I am sooooooooooooo sore....oy vey, I am totally pathetic...I really need to get in shape....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113781427539832994?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113781427539832994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113781427539832994' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113781427539832994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113781427539832994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/01/butt-kicking.html' title='Butt kicking....'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113691238988540689</id><published>2006-01-10T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-01-10T08:59:49.940-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fighting spirits</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night my friend Darin and I were working with a bunch of kids on some sort of trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the Bus ride I start the kids singing kids songs and they loved it but my friend gave a me a look that said "Why did you start that?"&lt;br /&gt;At some point we got to the place we were all staying and divided up the rooms. The weirdest part about this place was that the upstairs room could only be gotten to if you jumped to grab the bottom of the door then pulled yourself up and once inside the ceiling was too low for an adult to stand up! The bathroom was really tiny. It had a shower but I couldn't even fit in it enuf to close the shower curtain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason Darin and I went off to another location. I soon found out that it was an old abandoned warehouse. In the rafters we knew we could find the machine we were looking for. Unfortunately, we didn't know which set of rafters to travel across and each one had a bunch of orc monsters waiting for us that we had to fight! At the end of each rafter was a machine that we had to get down and go back to the house with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, there was a ghost that kept taking control of the children and was trying to suck the life out of people. The first few machines we brough back only scared the ghost. It wasn't until after several tries (and a lot of dead orcs) that we finally found the machine that destroyed the ghost. The last possessed child thanked us very much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very weird.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113691238988540689?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113691238988540689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113691238988540689' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113691238988540689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113691238988540689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2006/01/fighting-spirits.html' title='Fighting spirits'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113605004242314820</id><published>2005-12-31T09:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-31T09:27:22.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dragon strikes mall...</title><content type='html'>I have been having this re-occuring nightmare. This is second or third night I had it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am driving my minivan with my wife and kids at some point we just missing getting plowed by a semi=truck that jack knifes. For whatever reason we just keep going to the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mall has a huge 3 or 4 tier parking structure. As we get near the top and are looking for a apot we realize that people are in a general panic driving around trying to get away from a dragon that is both grabbing cars and blowing flame. Most people seem to be trying to get down to the bottom levels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are awestruck by the huge dragon for a few seconds then try to do the same. The dragon then sticks its head in the middle level and crunches a car right next to ours!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point we decide to run into the mall. We get out and when the dragon is busy attacking the top level we run for it. For some reason even though the mall parking lot is packed it is either too late or too early cause it's closed!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see an employee at the doors, she is letting people in so we run for it. For some reason I fall down. (I think it was because I saw the dragon coming. Either to distract it to save my family or in hopes that it would think I was already dead.) I see the woman employee busy relocking the doors she opened but she is having a hard time and stops. (Big dragon wouldn't fit any way.....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I carefully peak around and I see a woman walking towards me. She walks up to me and says something about how I don't look too bad. She then 'casts healing 4' on me.....(this should have been my first clue that something was wrong since modern people don't 'cast healing'---not that ancient people did either, but, hey, there's a  dragon in this dream). I look up and check for the dragon, I don't see it so I run to one of the still open doors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I see it! Out of the corner of my eye I notice the woman 'flicker'. For just a second I saw that she had the same horns as the dragon then she looked normal! I knew it was the dragon, but apparently she noticed that I noticed and cast some sort of mind control me and forced me to walk up some very curvy stairs to look for people. The stairs ended in a bathroom that was also shaped very curvy. As I was being forced to come down, I kept trying to figure out how to break her spell and get away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to the bottom of the stairs the spell seemed to wear off by itself. I ran straight at the dragon-woman and tackled her. Then I took off into the mall. I saw other people running around looking for hiding places because there was a &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;second&lt;/span&gt; dragon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently it had been busting open windows and trashing walls to get at the people. I had no idea where my family was and at almost every step a huge dragon head would crash thru a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason I decided to hide in an elevator but I couldn't decide which floor to have it stop on. I kept going up and down and at one point was staring at a small family as they got snagged by the dragon popping its head thru the wall. I then decided the elevator was a bad idea and had it go down cause I was gonna try and find a basement or bottom parking garage to hide in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elevator got stuck between levels and I was trying to get out when the dragons caused the level above to collapse on that level and I was almost buried. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I woke up to my daugher telling me that my son puked....argh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113605004242314820?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113605004242314820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113605004242314820' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113605004242314820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113605004242314820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/12/dragon-strikes-mall.html' title='Dragon strikes mall...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113570170225333443</id><published>2005-12-27T08:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-12-27T08:41:42.270-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Writers Block</title><content type='html'>Argh. Been too busy to put much in my writings and now that it's winter break I am having a totally cranial meltdown....oy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113570170225333443?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113570170225333443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113570170225333443' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113570170225333443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113570170225333443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/12/writers-block.html' title='Writers Block'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113329170823909306</id><published>2005-11-29T11:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-29T11:15:08.250-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Email!</title><content type='html'>So last night I had a dream that someone was trying to email me a pair of pants. And what makes it funnier is that I couldn't figure out what they were doing wrong! I called them on the phone and tried to walk them thru the process! My wife finally just told me to have them email the pattern and she would sew them her self.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently she was the only sane one in my dream....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113329170823909306?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113329170823909306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113329170823909306' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113329170823909306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113329170823909306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/11/email.html' title='Email!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113190978784852582</id><published>2005-11-13T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-13T11:23:07.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blasted photo machine!</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I found a little shop that sold jackets, books and had a machine to do self service photos from your film. I thought this machine was kinda cool and found a jacket that I thought my wife would like. I bought the jacket and went home. Unfortunately, the jacket wasn't the right size (such a stereotypical guy mistake, heh) so I went back to the store to exchange it. Alas, when I got back to the store all the jackets were gone and they had twice as many books. Apparently they no longer sold the jackets and the guy behind the counter refused to give me a refund. I then decided to go develop some film I had on me. I went to the photo machine and started putting rolls of film in to it. After a little while it started giving me photos. But as I looked into the viewing window of the machine I realized something was wrong. The photos were coming out curved. (Instead of being rectangles they were U shaped rectangles! Shaped almost exactly like this &lt;a href="http://www.3dartifacts.com/mir/lrgmir2.html" target="blank"&gt;mirror thingy&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;At this point I was getting a little irritated. When the photos finally came out of the machine I noticed that they all had masking tape stuck to them. I decided to cut my losses and get the negatives and just leave. To my dismay the machine was refusing to give me my negatives! I went back to the clerk's counter but now the store was completely empty. In fact, it looked like the last tenants to lease this spot hadn't been there in months! The books were covered in dust and the furniture was in disarray. I had no idea what to do!&lt;br /&gt;At this point being woken up saved me from my self....argh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113190978784852582?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113190978784852582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113190978784852582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113190978784852582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113190978784852582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/11/blasted-photo-machine.html' title='Blasted photo machine!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113177264938270870</id><published>2005-11-11T21:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-11T21:17:29.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My brain....heh.</title><content type='html'>lol, a one question brain test..........and it's right!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#999999" align=center&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Brain's Pattern&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td bgcolor="#CCCCCC"&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://images.blogthings.com/whatpatternisyourbrainquiz/9.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;font color="#000000"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Structured and organized, you have a knack for thinking clearly.&lt;br /&gt;You are very logical - and you don't let your thoughts get polluted with emotions.&lt;br /&gt;And while your thoughts are pretty serious, they're anything from boring.&lt;br /&gt;It's minds like yours that have built the great cities of the world!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatpatternisyourbrainquiz/"&gt;What Pattern Is Your Brain?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113177264938270870?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113177264938270870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113177264938270870' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113177264938270870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113177264938270870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/11/my-brainheh.html' title='My brain....heh.'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113103807742990333</id><published>2005-11-03T08:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-11-03T09:14:37.450-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dream please come true!</title><content type='html'>So last night I had this dream that I found a new place to live for us. The reason I found it was because my old Calculus professor was the one renting it out. He had a 3 bedroom house listed for $2085, which around here, is reasonable, if it's in a decent neighborhood. (Which is why we aren't even looking at houses. We currently pay $1250 for a 2 bedroom apartment with 1200 square feet and a small backyard.) But since this was my prof. I asked him about it. So he took me out to the place. The first time I saw it, it was in a decent neighborhood and was older looking but in decent condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream at this point jumped. Next thing I know I was coming back to the house cause I needed to contact the guy who lived there before for some reason I can't remember. I found my prof in the house doing clean up because the guy apparently left in rush and left a ton of stuff behind including the wrecks of 3 cars and a lot of clothes. I talked to my prof and helped him out a little and started talking about the place and when we could move in. Rent came up and apparently we had come to an agreement to pay less than $2085 previously but now &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;how much&lt;/span&gt; less than that. I said that I would love to pay what I was already (This would be pretty outrageous in this area) and he laughed and got this bothered look on his face. I then threw out $1500 and said I could definitely do this and that I knew the place was worth more but that was all I could do. He thought for a minute and said, yes. But he noted that he just couldn't do $1250 in a way that made it seem he was irked that he couldn't do that low. I assured him that I was kidding and that $1500 was fine and would make me very happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I checked out down the hall way again but this time it was different. There was a formal dining room with french doors leading to the backyard. They had a custom doggie door made in them for one of those miniature dogs. Past the formal dining was a double door that lead to the  master bedroom which was huge (i think about 25x20) and had its own bathroom and walk in closet. I went back into the dining room and looked out the french doors and noticed that the neighborhood was now a really nice neighborhood. The rest of the house was nicer than it was originally, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to leave, I saw my prof working on removing one of the cars. I told him it was too bad it wasn't a Datsun 240z cause I would keep it and use it for parts.(Note: My dad has a Datsun 240z for me to have but it has a frozen cylinder and could use some other repairs. Nice little car but I can't use it until I get the engine fixed.) :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was some underlying thing related to how I knew the previous tenant but I can't remember exactly what.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113103807742990333?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113103807742990333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113103807742990333' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113103807742990333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113103807742990333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/11/dream-please-come-true.html' title='Dream please come true!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-113069482830792191</id><published>2005-10-30T08:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-10-30T09:53:48.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Way too small</title><content type='html'>Before posting my dream a couple days ago let me clarify somethings. We are a family of 5 with 3 small kids. Right now we live in a large 2 bedroom apartment with a small little yard. We want to move to 3 bedroom but most of them are a bit more money and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;less&lt;/span&gt; space!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...onto the dream...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So a couple nights ago I dreamt that my wife found a new place for us to live: a loft in San Fransisco! It didn't even have a bedroom. The whole thing was one room and it didn't have a door either. When you walk into this place there were 2 stairs one leading to our loft and the other leading to the basement apartment. When you first walk in the front door you can see in front of you the middle apartment, which had no door either and the stairs were open stairs with no wall to give privacy to the middle place either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the place with the kids to wait for her. When I got there I found out that we had given up our king size bed because it wouldn't fit. Instead we had 2 very small blue couches to sleep on. The kids were kinda restless on them and I couldn't sleep at all. I looked around and saw that there were spots that in the floor where boards were missing so I put new boards down. I kept thinking that this wasn't going to work and what had my wife been thinking, especially getting a place in San Fran! No way would I ever move there or anyother big city now that I have kids. I probably wouldn't have been willing when I didn't have kids. I like rural and country settings.&lt;br /&gt;At some point the kid of one of the downstairs neighbors came up and started talking to me, which just reinforced to me that idea that this place didn't work privacy-wise. I don't remember what she or I said, but at some point she plopped down on my couch and start playing her PSP and I went back to waiting for my wife. I vaguely remember noticing a sky light at this point and then my I woke up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy. San Fran? No Way, never.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-113069482830792191?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/113069482830792191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=113069482830792191' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113069482830792191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/113069482830792191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/10/way-too-small.html' title='Way too small'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112958921194959796</id><published>2005-10-17T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T12:42:22.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>If life gives you lemons, your supposed to make lemonade.&lt;br /&gt;So what happens if life gives you s**t?&lt;br /&gt;Are you supposed to make s**t sandwiches?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a thought (sorry for being vulgar. I'm in a bad mood atm.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could switch Calculus professors. My current one is the worst math teacher I have ever had. Normally, I do well with math. I seem to have an aptitude for it. But this class is driving me up the wall. I have never had such a useless professor. I don't do to bad with learning from a textbook, if I can at least ask questions, but unfortunately this guy thinks that the one way he explains things is the only way that things can be explained. So when I say that I don't understand what he is saying he simply repeats himself. In fact, one time I told him 3 times that I didn't get it and he repeated himself &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;word for word&lt;/span&gt; 3 times!!! I gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make things even worse, he gives us this big speech about how he doesn't have to grade or collect homework because he will know if we are doing it by our grades on the tests because the final is going to be 70% drawn from the 3 test which are 70% drawn from the 5 quizzes which are 80% drawn from the homework. Well only 1 question from each of the 2 quizzes I have taken have been from the homework and about the same amount of the test came from the 2 quizzes! If my professor can't even work a basic percentage, how the hell am I gonna learn Calculus from him???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truely scary part is that we have open book and open note tests and quizzes and everyone I know in the class is still struggling with them. He is truely challenging us to remember and use even the most obscure things we learned back in Calculus 1A. At this point I would think he would focus on the difficult things about 1D and use the basics of 1A,B or C so we could focus on the new stuff and not stress to try and remember strange things from the previous classes. Oy vey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong! I have had very difficult classes before and done fine or been actually challenged to learn. But this class isn't difficult it's insane. I took some of the problems from the test to memory to try and see if I could figure them out over the weekend and have not found anything in the book that could help me do that. I put one of the questions on a Math nerf forum and I got a response that the problem would be very difficult if not impossible to work out and that the person couldn't believe an instructor would present such a question to someone learning these concepts. Ouch! These guys on this forum normally just answer the questions I ask like they were nothing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112958921194959796?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112958921194959796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112958921194959796' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112958921194959796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112958921194959796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/10/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112958827065838222</id><published>2005-10-17T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-17T15:31:10.670-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dark day on campus</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night I went to my calculus class and found out that I got a zero on my last Exam. I was so pisted that I cussed out the professor for 20 minutes and tried my best to prevent him from lecturing at all. (Sidebar: This professor is actually irritating me in real life, too. But not to the point where I would completely explode like I did in my dream.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I then wandered campus trying find a class to add because I wanted to drop the math class. The campus was strangely similar to the civic center from my dream about going to prom with my wife...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112958827065838222?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112958827065838222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112958827065838222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112958827065838222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112958827065838222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/10/dark-day-on-campus.html' title='Dark day on campus'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112930856659810314</id><published>2005-10-14T09:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-14T09:49:26.606-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Prom</title><content type='html'>So last night I had a dream that I was taking my wife to her Senior Prom. We had found a sitter for our 2 daughters but not our son (He's the youngest and still in diapers). So I went back to my In-law's house, which was where my wife was waiting for me. Apparently, my grandparents on my mother's side were living with them. (Not very likely..heh!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father-in-law said that he would be around but couldn't be responsible for the boy. So I went to my grandpa and asked him to help me out. All he had to do was make sure the boy was okay, since they all lived in the same house anyway. He agreed and I was stoked because I was beginning to think we wouldn't be able to go. When I got downstairs, I saw my wife wearing a beautiful dress and she looked fabulous. I told her that things were taken care of and that I would hurry up and get changed out of my street clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I was dressed up, we left. Our car was a mini cooper that had a soft top. I tried to adjust something and ended up breaking the soft top right off the car. I was trying to fix it when my wife said to forget about it cause it wasn't going to rain anyway and she didn't want to be late. However, when I got back in the mini had turned into a single person golf cart that had pedals so small that I couldn't even push one at a time. And yet somehow we got to the place the Prom was being held. (I have no idea how...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place was a weird place that resembled a cross between an open campus school and a city center and it was situated in the middle of a cool looking forested area. It had several ramps and stairs leading the various buildings. In one building there were large windows and I could see a ballet class that was going on inside. We circled around and found the place they were having serving the food for the dance and it had an outdoor cafe feel to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus ends the tail with a rude awakening by a crying baby...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112930856659810314?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112930856659810314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112930856659810314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112930856659810314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112930856659810314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/10/prom.html' title='The Prom'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112847297792024887</id><published>2005-10-04T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-10-04T17:42:57.930-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About my dreams...</title><content type='html'>Part of why I am writing this is to capture something about my dream world that I have noticed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreams are always strange. Many people I know have realistic dreams. Let me clarify. They have dreams that could actually happen, even if the situation is highly improbable. For instance, a dream about sleeping with Cindy Crawford or becoming the President of Iraq or something like that. I don't have these kind of dreams. I have the oddities so far that I have written. Even my reality based dreams always have weird twists. For example, I had a dream that some friends and I were running from the cops and ducked into a 7-11. So far realistic, except that the 7-11 had 30 foot high ceilings one second and when I looked again the ceilings were gone and you could see the sky. The I looked again and the ceilings were lower and purple. (Also during this dream I found out that my friends and I were vampire hunters and we had found what we thought was Dracula's hide out.) Reality always tweaks out in my dreams.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Exception:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do have a realistic dream, it is real to the very last minute detail. Everything is real. Walls don't disappear, locations don't suddenly change, people don't turn into things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And now for the strangest part...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Dramatic Pause*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, the come true. Every single one. The dreams are usually short, sometimes only seconds in length. The longest one I remember was only a few minutes. These snippet dreams have both intrigued me and slightly haunted me. So I am hoping to catch one and write it down before it comes true. Yes, I understand the concept of Deja Vu and other pseudo precognition concepts and this doesn't qualify. These are dreams I have and then the situation occurs, sometimes years later in places I had never seen prior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;And now for the &lt;i&gt;Really&lt;/i&gt; Strange stuff&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can here you now..."It gets stranger? No way!"...Yes it does.&lt;br /&gt;I have shared at least 3 dreams that I know of. As in, I have had the same dream as someone else, usually at the same time. I am going to post the full details of 2 of those dreams in the next few days. But essentially in one I shared a dream with a close friend of mine where we were secret service agents and another dream I shared with someone I had not previously met about the world coming to an end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112847297792024887?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112847297792024887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112847297792024887' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112847297792024887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112847297792024887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/10/about-my-dreams.html' title='About my dreams...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112766443461330051</id><published>2005-09-25T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-25T09:07:14.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Alien invasion</title><content type='html'>So last night I had a really weird dream. Some of the details are kind of sketchy. I do remember though, that I was with a bunch of people I had met through World of Warcraft. Of course, in real life I have never met any of these people. The weird part is we were going to some kind of convention, where they were showcasing the release of a new MMO. I'm not sure what kind of MMO it was.  I do remember that we all went up a stairwell, which was divided into two sections.  It wasn't until later that we realized we had gone up the out.  So we had to go back and get back in line to actually get into this thing.  I remember us generally talking about the other MMO's and their weaknesses and strengths.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I'm not really sure what happened. I remember something about mattresses (which, I think, means I've been reading too much Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, cause that doesn't make any sense.) But anyway, some where around this point, one of us chose to look up. Of course, after some screaming, we all actually noticed the UFO's in the sky. This, of course, started mass panic and general hysteria.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somehow at some point, I went from viewing this from first person to viewing it from way above in the sky.  It was kind of like watching those old B black-and-white UFO movies.  Each UFO would slightly tilt forward and shoot down this ray, which apparently was a radiation ray.  Any people that were hit with it ended up looking like those old movies, where a person melted away from radiation contact.  When it hit the buildings, they also kind of melted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After watching it from above for awhile, I zoomed back into my own head.  I was desperately trying to find a place to hide.  I remember finding a house that somehow I knew had been built by a company that I had worked for, which meant that it had a secure radiation proof basement area.  I have no idea why I knew that or why a company would have such a place.  But I closed off the secure door and started exploring the place.  At the end of the house, I found a little triangular shaped room, which had a window in the angular wall, which was made out of that corrugated steel stuff you see on the roofs of cheap sheds.  At first it appeared to me that the window had no glass, and yet somehow I knew that it was still radiation proof.  After close examination, I realized that it did actually have glass or some other radiation proof material.  I cautiously looked out the window cause I didn't want the aliens to see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I looked out the window I saw the Terminator.  Apparently he was still a good guy Terminator, because he was shooting at the aliens with a giant Gatling gun.  Of course, this made me a little bit nervous because if he hit the room I could get killed or the radiation to get in.  So I went further back into the house to look for a new hiding place.  I found a little mini closet, which had an ironing board drop-down thing in it and squeezed into it.  I remember, at this point, hearing the Gatling gun bullets rip through the room I had been in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The details between that point and the next point are really sketchy, and I really don't remember what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next part that I do remember, is that I was with my family, including my kids, and we're looking at some kind of weird museum thing in a person's house.  I think also couple of my real life friends were with me.  I remember it being almost like a bizarre costume party instead of an actual museum.  Unfortunately my memories are really sketchy at this point, and all I remember is one of my kids being scared of something, something about a restaurant (more Hitchhiker's Guid influence, I think) and seeing there were some other kids asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been rereading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and I think some of it carried over into my dreams, heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112766443461330051?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112766443461330051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112766443461330051' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112766443461330051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112766443461330051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/09/alien-invasion.html' title='Alien invasion'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112723220209246350</id><published>2005-09-20T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-20T09:03:22.096-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow going...</title><content type='html'>It's not so much that I haven't dreamed lately, it's that I have a tendency of only remembering what I dream in those moments before I hit the shower...argh. I have heard that some people keep a note pad by their beds so the can write everything down while it's still fresh, maybe I should try that. Although, I don't usually feel up to much of anything other than shower/shove food in mouth on mornings that I have work...heh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112723220209246350?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112723220209246350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112723220209246350' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112723220209246350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112723220209246350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/09/slow-going.html' title='Slow going...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112603216336129457</id><published>2005-09-06T11:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T11:42:43.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To write or not to write</title><content type='html'>So I decided to put my writings online...I must be nuts. But hey if it gets me a book deal, I won't feel so nuts anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://lukesbook.blogspot.com/"&gt;My Writings&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luke&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112603216336129457?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112603216336129457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112603216336129457' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112603216336129457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112603216336129457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/09/to-write-or-not-to-write.html' title='To write or not to write'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112602477975978873</id><published>2005-09-06T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-06T09:39:39.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wedding</title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Last night's dream actually had 3 people from real life in it: a friend of my wife's (I will call her Paula), my wife and a friend of mine named Eric. Everyone else mentioned was made up in this dream.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So last night I am dreaming that I am attending someone's wedding. I get to where the wedding is and it looks like some kind of conference center or something. I run into Paula and a friend of mine. Paula is smoking. I knock the cigarette out of her mouth and say that the bride would have a fit if she saw her smoking. She gives me a look and says I didn't have to waste her cigarette. My friend says something about smoking being bad for you anyway. And then I start preaching about why smoking is so terrible and I don’t know why, cause I wouldn't normally do that. I even tell her that she wouldn't want to end up looking like one of those nappy redneck women with the gravely voices. I tell her to trust me on that one cause I have some in my family (which I don't in real life...) She blows both of us off. &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My friend and I head towards the Blockbuster next door to the conference center and Paula tells us not to be late as she leaves to the wedding. I have no idea why we stopped at there and the place looks like a badly run mom &amp; pop store even though it's a Blockbuster. I quickly assess that there are no movies I want to see. My friend, however, stops at a little side bin. I walk over to him to tell him we must get going. I notice that in the bin are porn movies. I look at him and say, "Dude, let's go." I then turn around and start heading out the door. I am half way out the door when I look out and I see him actually going to buy one of the porn movies! I walk back in grab his arm and start to pull him out of the store but he resists. I look at him and say something to the effect of: "Trust me that's not good. Don't feed the temptation. Every step into it, makes it much harder to stop." He brushes me off and goes back to buying the movie. At this point I just leave him behind.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The door I leave out of leads to the back entrance of the conference center. I walk into one of the back doors and run into some of the wedding party. They are cleaning up the back room to the reception hall cause the reception and wedding are over. So I start helping and find out that one of the bridesmaid's had made a huge mess after getting totally plastered and apparently she had embarrassed the bride. Everyone is a little tense.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;After cleaning up the mess, I decide to go check out this interesting looking building by the conference center. As I approach it I realize it looks familiar. I then realize that it is where the friend of mine from earlier in the dream lives with another buddy. I just hadn't realized before how close to the conference center that they lived. I figure since I didn't see them at the cleanup that they would probably be home. There are 2 very small elevators that go up. I get in with 2 other people. The door never closes. As it goes up I realize that each floor is someone's place. This elevator faces the east side and the other must face the west side with one apartment on each side. The strange thing is that the door never closes so you can look into each person's kitchen as you go up. In fact, I remember looking in as we went by the floors and having a lady give me a dirty look from her kitchen. At this point I realize that everyone else is decidedly looking away. So I do so too. Pretty soon everyone else gets off and I am wondering when this tiny elevator, which is starting to make me feel claustrophobic with its low ceiling and white walls, is going to stop and go back down so I can get off. Finally it hits the top floor and I happen to glance in the apartment and I see my buddy Eric in his kitchen. He looks up and sees me and says "Hey! Come on in! Wasn't expecting you."&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He then gives me a tour of his rather small apartment. He says that it is kinda small, but the rent is really low at only $600 a month and the fact that it is on top is kinda nice. He then shows me that he can get directly on to the roof. As we look down I realize that this a 10th floor apartment. I got slightly dizzy and decide to go back inside. (Sidebar: If you don't know this: I used to be afraid of heights and I would get bouts of claustrophobia if I was in a small space and there was the possibility of getting stuck. I spent years subjecting my self to rooftops, high places and small areas to get over it, but on rare occasions I still get a touch nervous. And both the elevator and the roof made me nervous in my dream.)&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I don't remember how, but suddenly I was back at the conference center and the wedding was at the point where the bride and groom were exchanging vows. Then next thing I knew I was in a back room with my wife and she was in her wedding dress. Then we walked down the isle and it became a double hitter wedding. We walked up to a very well built black minister and renewed our vows and apparently we had only been married a year in this dream (6 years in reality). After that it was a party with all our friends and the other couple. They joked about a photograph of me standing next to my wife and the other bride, because I had a t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up on and they were wearing their dresses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point it ended...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112602477975978873?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112602477975978873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112602477975978873' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112602477975978873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112602477975978873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/09/wedding.html' title='The Wedding'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112594427162152566</id><published>2005-09-05T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-09-05T11:18:33.116-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another dream</title><content type='html'>I had this dream last night. It is strange but something that makes it stranger is that I have had the dream before...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my dream I was working a minimum wage job with a bunch of teenagers. I think it was a Chinese fast food place. After work one of the guys was waiting for his mom to pick him up so I was waiting with him, but I don't remember what we were talking about. I remember it was important though, like girl stuff or something. When his mom got it turned out that she was my mom too. But it wasn't my real life mom. Then all of a sudden I was at home and the other guy   was gone. And I found out some else was living at my home too. I was talking to her and her name was Ipanea. She seemed nice and we became friends. She then showed me her shrine to Patrick Stewart. She totally had a crush on him and she felt that he was really nice and would treat her well even though she was overweight. She had posters and action figures, the works. &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, after meeting her and talking to her, I told her I had to go. I then headed out to a college to investigate a some problem with someone getting killed.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got there it became apparent that somehow someone died during some kind of stunt. Our guess was an initiation stunt. So we(I had somehow 'spawned' a partner that I never saw the whole dream, but who somehow helped me...) began investigating the various fraternities. One fraternity had the 'circle of doom', which was a giant balloon that sat in their pool. It had a slick slide encircling it. Basically a bunch of the frat boys would jump onto it and grab an attached rope, this would put that slide that was attached to it, completely under water at an angle. Somehow then another person would jump onto the slide and would slide around the balloon really fast underwater. The goal was to manly enuf to stay underwater longer than anyone else. The also had found out that if the ones holding it all bobbed up and pushed it down real hard at the same time that it would fling the person on the slide out of the pool so hard that they would end up on the frat house roof. The person to demonstrate being flinged was an overweight pledge dressed as a Sumo wrestler. I decided that this very well could be the device that caused the death. &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next stop was a sorority. I went to there back yard cause no one answered out front and found a bunch of them at the pool. They seemed cooperative but the pool seemed really odd to me. I dove in with an oar cause one the girls stepped on something under the water and she thought it was dangerous. It turned out to just be a slug. I killed it with the oar, but the girls all got grossed out by it. At this point someone tried to drown me but between whacking them with the oar and my partner showing up (I still didn't see him/her) I was able to survive and we decided that they were the culprit. (Now that's some seriously circumstantial evidence, geez. I think there is a little more but it's getting fuzzy.)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I returned home, to find my mom had made arrangements to go to a resort for a vacation. But we had to leave that minute, she had already packed our bags. Next thing I know we are at the resort and the guy from the Chinese food place is my brother(but he isn't my brother from reality) and we both are complaining cause we have nothing to wear and that the sharks might get us. Suddenly, like I was having one of those thought bubbles people get in cartoons, I was imagining myself laying on a sofa underwater completely unprotected from the dozens of great white sharks swimming around me! My brother and I both freaked out we ended the vacation early. &lt;br /&gt;When we got home Ipanea greeted us warmly. My brother took off and my mom went to the backyard. I talked to Ipanea and then joined my mom in the backyard. It turned out she had Patrick Stewart over for tea!!! I told my mom that it would only be fair to bring him in the house and introduce him to Ipanea. She agreed. We told him that we had a friend who lived here and would love to meet him and that she was a fan. He agreed. When we got in the house though, he coughed and pointed at his empty glass and treated her like a Maid!!! She had a fit. She yelled at him and shut herself in her room. I told him that that was totally messed up. He just left. When I went into her room I told her not to think about it. I looked around and all the stuff was in a big trash bag. I then told her that I thought she was nice even if Patrick Stewart was a total ass to her. I think she even asked if it was cause she was fat. I kept telling her that she was a nice person and that, yes, she was attractive. I gave her a big hug as she cried.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the usual happened...I woke up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112594427162152566?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112594427162152566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112594427162152566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112594427162152566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112594427162152566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/09/another-dream.html' title='Another dream'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112481922459989930</id><published>2005-08-23T10:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-23T10:47:04.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mining the kitchen...</title><content type='html'>So I dreamt that my whole family (including the kids) and a few friends were on a research team. We had found that under the back of an old house there was an old mine shaft that had some strange properties. So we got our gear and went into the house. Apparently, this was a hush hush government type job because we also went in expecting the possibitlity of trouble. I had a gun on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got into the mine area, we started setting up various pieces of equipment. As the other were doing this I went back up into the kitchen which is where we could access the shaft and it gave us a good view of the front door. One of the other people in our group came up and I asked him if he would keep watch since I really wanted to get back down and help with the research. I saw a lizard and for kicks &amp; giggles shot its head off. I then turned to the guy and asked if he knew how to use a gun. He got this smug look and said "of course"&lt;br /&gt;I then insisted on seeing him shoot, so I pointed at the lizard (which was on the kitchen counter only a few feet away) and told him to shoot it in the neck. He jokingly walked up to and touched the neck with the gun muzzle and said "here?" I replied "Yeah, but not from point blank!"&lt;br /&gt;He then stepped back and missed. Somehow I was satisfied. Maybe because I proved he was being arrogant; I don't know. Anyway, I went back down to help with the research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that, I realized that I was hungry and decided to get food for myself and one of the other researchers who was hungry also. So I grabbed to 2 scarves and a short straight katana (ninja-to). Wrapping one scarf around body and the other around my head, I was suddenly feeling a lot like a 'real' ninja. So I started running down the street. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, everyone on this street has a sword, even the kids. Everytime I passed someone I would tap their sword almost playfully....some had real swords and some had wooden practice swords. (No I don't get it either)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally go to the fast food place and ordered my food when I realized I didn't know what the other researcher wanted. I had just run quite the distance and didn't really want to run back and forth again. I debated for several minutes before ordering the other guy a bacon and egg sandwich. I then took off and made my run back, once again tapping swords with ever person I ran into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once back, I resumed researching, but shortly thereafter we heard a noise. Since I didn't fully trust the guy watching out I went up the shaft to the kitchen. It was dark outside but I saw something move out one of the windows. I went to investigate. As I approached the front door, I saw someone move by the window again. He was wearing a yellow HazMat suit. Suddenly I got sprayed by some liquid. As I looked around I realized that there were tubes sticking into the house all over the place spraying this liquid. I suddenly felt a rush as I realized that there was No Way this was a good thing. I ran down to the shaft and told everyone that they needed to get out as fast as possible. The whole crew ran out as fast as they could getting sprayed as the went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once we were all out the guys in HazMat suits went into emergency help mode and dropped portable plastic tubs and immersed us to remove the substance. Of course the kids were tweaking out and we tried to comfort them but the whole situation was rather freaky. They also gave us eye drops and something that went down our throats to neutralize anything we may have swallowed. Yuck. I was looking over to see how my youngest  daughter was handling the mouth thing when I was, oh so rudely woken up by my alarm clock...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112481922459989930?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112481922459989930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112481922459989930' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112481922459989930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112481922459989930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/08/mining-kitchen.html' title='Mining the kitchen...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112387196186094541</id><published>2005-08-12T11:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-12T11:39:21.873-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Captured!!!</title><content type='html'>Setting:&lt;br /&gt;I am in &lt;a href="http://www.worldofwarcraft.com" target="wow"&gt;WoW&lt;/a&gt; as a rogue and some of my buddies are there.&lt;br /&gt;I have just been captured by the enemy, who is apparently France!?!&lt;br /&gt;Yup, France. Not the Horde or Alliance, France. wth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I am sitting on a bed in a room where they are holding me. Of course, I check the window to see if I can get out and away. It's late night and dark and only a few guards are watching the side of the house. I look around and no guards are in the room with me. Unfortunately, the screen is screwed in and I don't want to make a lot of noise. As I am standing there thinking the door starts to open and in walks some of my friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am wondering if they got caught too, when one tells me that the French have allowed me to have visitors because they are going to execute me! (What the heck kinda war was I in???) POW's getting visitors? My mind is nuts. At this point I decide I better look around again for escape opportunities. At this point apparently the wall with the window turned into a patio with a wood fence keeping me in. And night is now day and there are dozens of French guards (most of which are dwarves...I don't know how that works...) Now it seems much harder to get away. I tell my friends that I need to escape soon cause the French do executions at dawn (apparently despite the daylight outside, it was somehow still late night...) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am stilling thinking about how to get out without getting them in trouble when they decide they had better leave and try to help from the outside. Now I turn again and I am on the roof of the building and the room has vanished. So the first thing I do is run to the edge and see if I can jump off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One end has a boat dock with no boats and blood on the stairs down. It is about 6 flights but I take it as a good possibility, but I would rather not have to swim, since anyone in a boat could catch me fast. I go back to the other side to see if there is another way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear someone coming down the hall to my room (apparently half the room is still there but somehow on the roof. A soldier in a red uniform (that looks a bit more old style British than French) opens the door and I hope that it's not dawn yet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one end of the hallway is a window with huge red curtains and 2 guards standing at it. I am sorely tempted to try to jump thru the window. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, just as we turn to go down the hall I am rudely awoken by my alarm......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112387196186094541?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112387196186094541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112387196186094541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112387196186094541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112387196186094541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/08/captured.html' title='Captured!!!'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112365821574871829</id><published>2005-08-10T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-10T00:16:55.756-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My FF7 Life Lessons</title><content type='html'>I have come to the realization that one game has defined a large part of my life. That game is Final Fantasy 7. No other game has stuck with me as much. No other music pulls me back to another time and causes such emotion attachment. Even today, almost a &lt;a href="http://www.ffshrine.org/ff7/ff7.php"&gt;decade&lt;/a&gt; since I first played the game, when I hear the music many old memories and feelings surface. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One area of my life that it most certainly affects is my view on any game, even nonRPGs. I almost always find myself comparing the intensity of the story of a new game to FF7's or listening carefully to the music to see if it holds similar weight. I have found several sound tracks that stir up emotions within myself but so far none that have quite the power of FF7's. Even a game like Metroid Prime that is a totally different genre got the FF7 comparison. I like the music of Metroid and the story line was one of the best in the Metroid series, but in the end the points that didn't quite hit the FF7 par came out. The funny part is it didn't make me like Metroid any less, but rather influenced me to write a story to further expound on the history of Samus Aran. A story which I am very happy with at the moment and fully intend to continue writing until it is finished.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course FF7 greatly influences my gaming. I have built RP's around its story line and borrowed its Materia system idea for my own games. I find myself drawing on it as a resource often. This is also true of other FF's tho. My personal game idea has used the FF series as a comparison point. I often modify my game idea to make sure it would compete with the newest FF and many other good games. Even if I have to admit the series took a very strange turn after FF7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if my music tastes were affected by playing FF7, but I do know that I look deeper than the surface when it comes to music. I want a story, an idea that has meaning and depth in my music. I judge music on more than just whether it 'rocks' or not. I want to feel the piece, to know what it means and why it was written. My favorite songs all have either (or both) sentiment appeal because they were in my head during a certain period of my life or because the story behind them affects me emotionally. For example, Enter Sandman by Metallica does both. I used to suffer from nightmares (well still do on occasion) and the song speaks to that subject, but I also first heard it (and saw the video) on MTV when I was living at my dad's house in Oregon. Having just been taken there cause I was too much for my mother to handle (I was an ass to her at the point in my life and it was a very good decision on her part, my teen years were pretty nuts) I was in a new situation with a messed up dad, who didn't even interact with my brother and I despite the fact that we were now living with him. I spent many night staying up until the wee hours watching Nick at night or MTV. The video just hit me. And it sticks with me even now. She's Gone by Bloodgood and Secret Ambition by Michael W. Smith both are songs to that stick with me due to their own story. Both are intense songs that tell a story and are very good songs musically. The FF7 theme is the same as these songs and I relive the game's story every time I hear it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think that FF7 sticks with me because I played it while I was a teen and going thru some many changes and discoveries about myself and my family. The main character in the game, Cloud, goes thru an amazing metamorphosis and discovery about his past in the game and as a teenager it was very easy to relate to him, because it felt sometimes like my life was almost as nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112365821574871829?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112365821574871829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112365821574871829' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112365821574871829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112365821574871829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-ff7-life-lessons.html' title='My FF7 Life Lessons'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112274750205216393</id><published>2005-07-30T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-08-08T09:05:22.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strange Spirit test......</title><content type='html'>Have no idea what to think of this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border='0' cellpadding='5' cellspacing='0'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt; You scored as &lt;b&gt;Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan&lt;/b&gt;. You are an evangelical in the Wesleyan tradition. You believe that God's grace enables you to choose to believe in him, even though you yourself are totally depraved. The gift of the Holy Spirit gives you assurance of your salvation, and he also enables you to live the life of obedience to which God has called us. You are influenced heavly by John Wesley and the Methodists.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;table border='0' width='300' cellspacing='0' cellpadding='0'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='89' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;89%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Emergent/Postmodern&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='75' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;75%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Fundamentalist&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='68' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;68%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Classical Liberal&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='57' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;57%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Charismatic/Pentecostal&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='57' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;57%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Reformed Evangelical&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='57' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;57%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Neo orthodox&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='50' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;50%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Modern Liberal&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='43' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;43%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;Roman Catholic&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='21' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;21%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href='http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=43870'&gt;What&amp;#039;s your theological worldview?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;created with &lt;a href='http://quizfarm.com'&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112274750205216393?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112274750205216393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112274750205216393' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112274750205216393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112274750205216393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/07/strange-spirit-test.html' title='Strange Spirit test......'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112248320284166505</id><published>2005-07-27T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T15:02:58.300-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scooby Doo crime fighting squad</title><content type='html'>Wow...dreams are wierd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night somehow I had joined the Scooby Doo crime fighting club. In the beginning of the dream I was chasing something but I don't know what. I was running with a poodle who was my "doggy companion" and we were trying to get where the bad guys were. We ended up running thru a dark abandoned farm in the middle of the night. The horses there got spooked and started running all over. I remember thinking that a horse would make things faster for getting to our destination...suddenly there was a huge volleyball net in the front gate of the farm and the horses were getting tangled up. I was unable to help them cause they kept rearing up and getting irritated at being captured. Soon my poodle friend got caught too. But when I turned to help him, he had transformed into a sheep!?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got him free and realized that he was actually a big ram! (I swore he was a small sheep a second earlier.) To my astonishment, a few seconds later he was big enough to ride! So I hopped on and we ran into town, but he kept trying to eat the rope I was using to stay on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After short while we got into town but still hadn't found the bad guy. As I was trying to get closer to where I knew he was, my crime fighting buddy started to returned to his normal size...I was a little irked that my ride was gone but we pressed on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon we found the site and not only was Fred there but so was the National guard. Fred said it was too dangerous to keep going...but I just grabbed a machine gun and ran towards the battle, my doggy in tow. I saw a National Guard truck pull up and I jumped behind it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest is lost to the recesses of my demented mind, for at this point my very rude alarm clock woke me up! It has no concept of timing at all...it just loves to interrupt my dreams as they are getting interesting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112248320284166505?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112248320284166505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112248320284166505' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112248320284166505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112248320284166505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/07/scooby-doo-crime-fighting-squad.html' title='Scooby Doo crime fighting squad'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112144958632740777</id><published>2005-07-15T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T10:46:26.333-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yummy</title><content type='html'>Pork rinds and Green tea, what a breakfast....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thought of the day:&lt;br /&gt;Of course I am out of my mind! It's dark and scary in there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112144958632740777?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112144958632740777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112144958632740777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112144958632740777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112144958632740777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/07/yummy.html' title='Yummy'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-112002825377083796</id><published>2005-06-28T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T08:17:30.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Banana seat scooter!!! WTH</title><content type='html'>In my dream last night, my best friend and my brother bought me a used blue scooter with a banana seat and some green dots here and there. I was so excited to have it, that I crashed it half a dozen times....WTH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't it have been a Ninja or a Harley or something! Geez my brain hates me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-112002825377083796?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/112002825377083796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=112002825377083796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112002825377083796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/112002825377083796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/06/banana-seat-scooter-wth.html' title='Banana seat scooter!!! WTH'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-111841566738646370</id><published>2005-06-10T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T08:18:16.388-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A dream by any other name would still be disturbing...</title><content type='html'>Back to the nether land of my minds subconscious:&lt;br /&gt;My wife, my best friend and a contractor were walking down a dirt and gravel path. We were headed towards the house my wife had bought(?) for our family. The contractor was jabbering about how he had fixed some bridge work that the house needed and told my wife she was going to like it. (This leads me to believe she bought the house.) My best friend was complaining about how long we had to walk to get to my new place and how much of a pain it was going to be to move our stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The path was very scenic. It appeared that our new home was in a semi-forested area similar to Boulder Creek, CA. When we go there I was stunned. From the outside this place appeared rather tiny, even if it was a cute cabinesque place in a beautiful forest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once inside I discovered that the place was a one room house. Yup, ONE. No bedrooms, no separate kitchen, no living room...just one room for it all. I was really stunned now. How on earth was I going to fit all 5 of us, let alone all our stuff, in this place! My wife then showed my the fenced off portion of the yard (apparently the house also came with decent acreage.) It had a chicken coop and a small storage thing. She then explained to me how easy it would be to expand and that we had plenty of land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point it gets a little blurry. Somehow, I ended up reminiscing about my childhood and how I grew up in a small place (not really true). But somehow this triggered a memory buried in the recesses of mind (still dreaming...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remembered on day seeing a lady fall asleep in here bathtub (not sure who she was and how it was that I was seeing her in the tub.) Apparently she was semi incapacitated, I think drunk because she was unable to fight off the huge pack of rats that suddenly came up on her. Somehow, they dragged her into her car(?, as I try to remember right now, It seems to me that maybe she actually ran/hobbled to her car to get away???) where she was now fully dressed (not that I had seen her naked the first time, it was like a PG-13 movie where the bath and rats somehow 'discreetly' hid the 'naughty' parts). In the car I witnessed her get eaten alive by the rats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She screamed horribly the whole time. I watched as one rat came up and bit her in the eye and she screamed, "I can't see! Oh god, someone help me". And other things like that until her head was a bloody mess that just dropped forward and was overrun by the rats....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh! My mind is nuts. Thank God I woke up at this point, who knows what other nasty things my brain had in mind for the next part.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-111841566738646370?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/111841566738646370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=111841566738646370' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/111841566738646370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/111841566738646370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/06/dream-by-any-other-name-would-still-be.html' title='A dream by any other name would still be disturbing...'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10637706.post-111827483686533974</id><published>2005-06-08T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-08T16:53:56.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hard Dreams</title><content type='html'>Last night I dreamt that my wife and I had another baby. Unfortunately, the baby was born premature and at home (not sure why we didn't make it to the hospital). He was so tiny and looked a little funny. We were fairly paniced cause we couldn't get a hold of the police to get an ambulance to take her and the baby to the hospital. I remember some lady cutting the umbilical cord with a pair of scissors and finding it hard to hold the baby cause he was small and slippery due to the white birth stuff. At one point I put him in my sleave in an attempt to keep him from slipping. This was to no avail tho. He slipped from my hand and slid across the floor. It was at this point that I realized my strange son was in fact a seal! He seal barked a little and I pet him. Then my dream ended with my annoying alarm clock...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Egad...my mind is strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Laje&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/10637706-111827483686533974?l=darklaje.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/feeds/111827483686533974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=10637706&amp;postID=111827483686533974' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/111827483686533974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/10637706/posts/default/111827483686533974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://darklaje.blogspot.com/2005/06/hard-dreams.html' title='Hard Dreams'/><author><name>Laje Kahr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13740763819871240538</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='20' height='32' src='http://www.legacyent.org/images/abe.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
