Unlike fellow blogger Flog, I don't typically remember my dreams. Judging by the one I'm about to relate, it's probably for the best.

The dream begins with me pushing my way through a crowd in a weird combination of a concert hall and a summer camp cafeteria. A Pink Floyd cover band is about to take the stage and, since I'm apparently friends with the bassist, I've got a backstage pass. As they begin the first song off The Wall, I notice a woman next to me, dressed entirely in black, with a sock in her mouth. I ask her what she's doing and she mumbles, "I'm trying to kill myself." When I tell her that this isn't going to do the trick, her boyfriend shows up. He's also attempting death by sock and refuses to listen to me. The girl suddenly becomes frustrated, jumps into a nearby aquarium and turns into a fish. The boyfriend spits out the sock and does the same but turns into Garfield (but with fins). He swallows her whole before languidly crawling back out. With his gut stuck on the edge of the tank, he tells me not to worry. They do this all the time.

Given the company backstage, I decide to leave and head for the foyer where a group of elderly people in '30s nightclub attire are gathered around Gizmo, the mogwai protagonist from Gremlins. He's in a tuxedo and dancing with a doll in a bridal gown. Seriously creeped out at this point, I head outside into a crowded bar/fish-packing district. Club hoppers mix with longshoremen gutting fish and tossing ice into the street. I look over my shoulder and notice that I'm being pursued by two men that look like Beavis and Butthead impersonators. Butthead is seriously overweight and chewing on a toothpick. Beavis is wearing a anarchist/punk shirt three sizes too small and looks like he's freaking out on methamphetamines.

I make it back but Butthead is waiting for me in the hall. I rush for the stairs and he laughs/shouts "Huh, huh, huh, there's no way you'll outrun a meth head." I make it to the roof, and, sure enough, Beavis is waiting with a switchblade. There's no way I can win this fight so I jump down a laundry chute/elevator shaft and wake up before I reach the bottom.

So what the bloody 'ell is that all about? That does it, no more pop-culture before bedtime.