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July 11th, you know what that means. Yep... it's my 32nd birthday (hurray! 
), and boy do I feel like an old fart!
One of the things that happens when you have your birthday, is that you receive a truckload of emails from websites and forums where you registered at some point in time, that wish you a happy birthday. The funny part is that half of these websites I can't even remember signing up on, and the other half I haven't visited in 5 or 6 years. But I'm still honored that they still remember me. Thanks guys! Whom ever you might be... 
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go find a large rock to hide under from relatives and neighbors that want to come over and congratulate me and pretend to enjoy my company... 
When dreams contain uncomfortable, dangerous or scary situations; they are generally referred to a nightmares. Nightmares are a common thing, and can be caused by many things. Bad experiences, stress, illness and even things like sleeping position and eating habits are known inducers of nightmares. Many things about the short but violent dream I had last night, would label it as a nightmare; yet I disagree.
It all started out with me standing on the deck of some boat, I was enjoying the wind and sea in the “Titanic” way. Suddenly out of nowhere a raging zombie started to run towards me. When the zombie nearly reached me I bent forward, grabbed the zombie’s legs and flipped it over the railing.
After watching the zombie disappear under the ship’s bow, I walked back inside. Walking through the ship I noticed that all the corridors were empty. Since it was a cruise ship this struck me as odd. As I walked through one of the corridors, suddenly some doors behind me swung open and a horde of screaming zombies came rushing out towards me. I started running into the opposite direction and bumped into a chubby fellow who later introduced himself as Ron and looked a bit like Mark “Barney” greenway.
After running through several corridors with a load of zombies behind us, Ron and I suddenly found ourselves in an atrium or indoor botanical garden. In the opposite corner of the atrium was a table with guns on it. As we approached the table, we suddenly noticed a pale, black-haired girl knelt next to the table, softly sobbing about something. I asked the girl what was wrong, and she suddenly turned towards us hissing and growling. As I looked into her pitch black, empty eyes, I realized that addressing the girl was an obvious mistake. It is obvious now that the girl was a witch from the popular first-person shooter game Left 4 Dead.
The witch was still growling and hissing at us when the zombies flooded in from the other side of the atrium. Ron snapped his fingers at the witch and said ”Shut the fuck up bitch, and hand me that riffle!”. The witch was startled, but handed us some rifles. For what seemed to last an eternity, Ron and I shot the endless stream of zombies that came rushing in; while the witch kept handing us new ammunition cartridges and refilling the empty ones. After the stream of zombies stopped, suddenly a single female zombie came running in and shouted ”Ron, wait it’s me!”.
Ron said that it was an old friend of his, and that it looked as if she was only half a zombie. The girl warned us that another steam of zombies was following her, and that we needed to prepare for it. Moments later another seemingly endless stream of zombies came rushing in. Ron and I kept shooting them, as the witch and the half-zombie girl kept handing us ammunition. After the last zombie had died, the girl handed me another cartridge said that this was the one. Ron told me that he would stay behind and fight off the next round of zombies so that I could escape.
As I stepped through the door next to the table, I suddenly found myself standing in a wardrobe section. I turned around and watched the witch for a few seconds, before I decided to do a headshot on her from behind. Just as I was about to pull the trigger, a zombie wearing a blue bass guitar walked into the atrium from the other side. He saw me and shouted something into the corridor behind him. The very second I did the headshot on the witch; I could hear another horde of zombies pouring into the atrium. I turned around and started running down the wardrobe corridor. Behind me I heard Ron shouting ”Fuck this shit!” followed by two gunshots. A few seconds later, Ron caught up with me and said that the zombie girl didn’t mention that the ammunition supply was depleted.
Exiting the wardrobe we found ourselves standing in a large hallway, looking at a sign with a big arrow pointing to the left that said “exit”. We cheered and turned to our left, only to see a huge hallway crammed to its limits with what looked like zombies. I looked at Ron, shrugged, and told him that there was only one way out. We fought our way through the hallway with zombies; Rob using his gun as a club and me doing selective headshots. Some of the zombies shouted ”What the fuck, dude?!”, but Ron and I didn’t pay attention to it. All we wanted was to get to the exit as fast as possible.
When I finally reached the doors and exited the building, I was confronted with a huge police force that held me at gunpoint. One of the police officers shouted at me to throw down my gun and get on the floor. I shouted back at him that the place was crammed with zombies, and that he had to run for his life. The police officers looked at each other and started to laugh. Suddenly Ron busted through the door, and started to run towards my car; a black Land Rover Defender.
I threw my gun to the floor and also ran towards my car. Instead of getting behind the wheel, I opened the back door and pulled a case from the back. In the case I found a Bazalt RPG-7, which I aimed at building. After shooting the warhead through the front door, the entire building complex and all the police cars in front of it exploded with great violence. A few seconds later Ron pulled a flyer from under my windshield wiper and read out loud: ”Horror Costume Festival”. A few seconds later I woke up.
Lucid Dreaming is the ability to be aware and even manipulate your dreams. A small part of Lucid Dreaming is that you can remember your dreams. While I can recall my dreams, it makes me wonder how much I was aware of last night’s dream, because it was one of those dreams that don’t really make any sense:
- 1. The Tunnel.
It was somewhere in the (near) future, and I was fighting my way through a very long highway tunnel that was crammed with blown up vehicles and soldiers. The soldiers were undoubtedly part of some totalitarian regime, as we may expect them in the (near) future, and they looked a bit like the Combine from the game Half-Life.
Fighting alongside me was a big muscular man called Gundar. He fought brave and valiantly, and managed to kill a lot of soldiers with his weapon of choice. I can’t remember the exact details of his weaponry, but my weapon of choice was pretty clear. My all-time favorite rifle is, of course, the Heckler & Koch G36K, and it is pretty safe to assume that I was using just that.
After a fight that seemed to last forever, Gundar and I emerged from the tunnel in some kind of SUV, which reminds me a little about the new BMW X6, but it was less graceful. After a short drive over some kind of bridge, an army helicopter with a huge turret mounted on its nose started shooting at us. It had a yellow laser beam that was used for aiming and locking on to targets, and a big pulse-canon that shot bright photon bombs that were causing the actual damage.
It fired some pink stuff at our vehicle, and after an explosion we landed upside-down on some rocks in the water next to the bridge. The yellow laser was scanning for us, but I soon found out that the laser couldn’t locate or lock on to us if we were under water. We grabbed some snorkels and began to swim back to the cliffs where the tunnel was. Gundar noted that there was a smaller, partially submerged tunnel next to the highway tunnel. We swam into the tunnel for about a mile, when I noticed some stairs on the side.
- 2. The slave-girl.
As I was walking up the stairs, I suddenly noticed that my hair had gone black, and I was wearing nothing but a black silken Babydoll. Around my throat was wrapped a band of steel of about an inch in thickness. It didn’t take me long to realize that I had suddenly become a Kajira, a Gorean slave girl.
-
Anyway, on the top of the stairs there was a kitchen area where many other slaves were preparing meals for some festivity. I was assigned to making desert for the event, as it was said that I had a talent for making the best pudding known to man. After a while, we heard that our Master had arrived, and demanded to taste the food before the event would start. In the courtyard, I presented a big bowl of pudding to my Master and two of his friends. I never saw his face, but he called me Hilda.
- 3. The Master
-
I opened my eyes and saw my new slave Hilda gracefully walking back to the house with a big bowl of pudding over her head. The House partially consisted of tunnels in the cliff behind the house. Shortly after all the slaves had left the courtyard, my guests arrived and (apparently) we had a good party. I can’t remember anything of the party itself, except how the party ended. My guests and I were sitting on the rocks near the water. On a rock about 3m into the water, a slave girl was dancing for our entertainment. I remember saying “The night is young, and there are plenty of women; so go get some”, after which many of my guests took a slave girl up to the house.
I took a woman by the hand and started to walk towards the house. Suddenly the woman slapped me in the face, made some rude comments about not being a whore and ran towards the house. Enraged and insulted I followed her, bent on raping her and beating some sense into the girl. When I found her in another courtyard, with an old shed in the middle, she was wielding two daggers and said she would rather die than become a slave.
I drew my sword and told her that she should be careful to what she wished for. I told her she was already a slave, and that she had killed her former master, but still wore his collar. The collar was not visible due to some scarves that were wrapped around her neck and shoulders. With the butt of my sword I smashed against a couple of bricks of the shed, which turned out to be hollow. ”Where did you hide the key?”, I asked her as I was smashing more and more hollow bricks with the butt of my sword. After a while Gundar entered the courtyard and helped me smash hollow bricks so we could find the key to her collar.
After we had finally found the key, I suddenly woke up.
Most people would say that dreams are completely random, yet the famous English neurologist Hughlings Jackson stated that dreams are a side-effect of some sort of maintenance program for your brain. He stated that during the day we gather all kinds of data, and during our sleep the brain processes this data and discards all the data which it does not deem important enough to remember.
Thinking back about the dream I had last night, It makes me rather curious about what kind of memory fragment my brain was trying to process. Please allow me to recap last night's dream:
My earliest memory was that I was attending some kind of meeting with a group of friends. It could have been a company party, but it could also have been a RL meeting with a gaming clan. On the meeting there was some kind of contest, and apparently I had been eliminated in round one. Another attendee of the meeting had also been eliminated from the contest, and we were standing at the side of the event waiting for the contest to end.
The other person was a Japanese guy in the range of 45 – 55 of age. He looked like an average older Japanese guy, with the flawless hairdo and a big pair of glasses on his nose. His name was Hitori Miyagi (of course... it had to be Mr. Miyagi...), and he was a friendly guy. He said it was kind of warm inside, and suggested that we would wait outside where it was cooler. As we stepped outside, I noticed that we were in Brussels, Belgium. I have absolutely no idea why I said that, as none of the street images made any sense to me; but Brussels it was.
As we were standing outside, enjoying the weather, Mr. Miyagi noticed a tiny ice-cream shop across the street and offered to buy ice-cream for us both to make the waiting a bit more pleasant. When we arrived at the opposite side of the street, the tiny ice-cream shop had suddenly become a sort of ice-cream fast-food restaurant with a buffet. Mr. Miyagi and I got in line and I ordered some sort of pancake that was rolled up with ice-cream inside and some fruit salad with whipped cream on the side. Mr. Miyagi’s order was finished way before mine, and so he continued down the buffet as I was waiting.
While waiting I had a friendly conversation with some hooligans that were wrecking part of the restaurant. I don’t remember which soccer team they were supporting; all I know is that their shirts were red and white. After my order had been completed, one of the hooligans commented at the size of the pancake and slapped my butt. I giggled and continued down the buffet. Further down the buffet was the drinks section. I ordered a 0.25 liter bottle of cola, but the lady behind the counter gave me a 1 liter bottle with a little bit of cola in it instead.
The buffet continued and ended up at the entrance of some city park. The person behind the counter told me that the cashier was at the other side of the park. I walked through the park, which was filled with pine trees, and arrived at a small booth where the cashier was located. He told me that Mr. Miyagi had already paid for my order and was waiting for me at the patio. He told me that Mr. Miyagi had reserved a table under the name “PA”. He handed me a tablet-PC with some index program in which I could look up table names. It looked like some “looking for group” interface as can be found in many MMORPG’s.
As I was walking back through the city park with the pine trees with my ordering tray in my hands, some small Volkswagen van passed me by and came to a halt about 200 meters behind me. The sliding door in the rear opened and a very large brown dog jumped out, and came dashing at me. It was most likely some pit-bull, but it must have been the size of a small horse. “Aww crap” was the first tangible expression that came out of my mouth, and I turned towards the dog, hoping that I could thrust the ordering tray between myself and its massive jaws.
As the dog approached me, it jumped up and over my left shoulder, before disappearing into the bushes. Immediately following that, another dog (a white, smaller one) appeared out of the bushes on the other side of the road and followed the brown dog into the bushes. And that is when I suddenly woke up.
Dreams… we have many of them each night but most of them happen without us being aware of them. Recently I’ve been having dreams that I can remember in full, vivid detail. Most of these dreams are related to things that don’t make any sense to me. I’ve decided that from now on I will write down any dream that I can remember, so I can read them back at a later point and see if I can make any sense of them. Let me tell you about the dream that I had last night:
The first thing that I remember about this particular dream is that I was driving in my car with my female partner. I don’t know if she was my wife or my girlfriend, but I do know that she was my mating partner. Her name was Nevelle; she was blonde and had a long ponytail and was a bit chubby (not fat, just chubby). She was a tough but tender girl, the kind you would expect to be working at a gardening center, for example.
We were driving to a small village somewhere in the countryside, but for what reason I do not know. After parking the car we walked down a small paved path in a park, where some families were walking with their kids and babies in strollers. As we were passing by the entrance of some playground or campsite, I’m not exactly sure what it was exactly, Nevelle said she had to pee and asked if we could stop for a bit so she could visit the toilets there.
As Nevelle walked into the toilet building, she was called back by a woman who said that she had to pay first before using the toilets. Apparently Nevelle didn’t have any change on her, because next I remember she was asking a random man that exited the building if he could change a larger coin for smaller ones. The next moment I gave Nevelle a 2 euro coin and eventually she paid about 4 euro before she entered the toilet building. After Nevelle entered the toilet building, a small crowd started to gather outside. More and more families stopped at the building, and several people had to go use the toilets. Strangely enough none of them had to pay to use the toilets.
After a few minutes, a tall slender girl who was crying exited the building. She walked a couple of meters away from the crowd and just stood there looking at her feet. She was a short-haired brunette and wore a short orange silken dress. Her black panties were dropped to her knees, and her bra-strap was slipped over her shoulder. I asked the girl what was wrong, but she said nothing was wrong. As I helped her pull her panties back up, she told me her name was Cheyenne.
When Nevelle came outside she was flabbergasted about how many people had gathered outside, and asked me what happened. I told her nothing had happened and that I had no idea who all these people were and why they were standing there. Nevelle accepted the explanation I gave and we continued to walk through the park. Cheyenne and some other person, of whom I can’t remember any specific details, followed us along the path.
As we cleared the park or forest and saw the village in the distance, Cheyenne and the other person were walking besides me and Nevelle was walking 2 or 3 meters in front of me. Suddenly the weather turned bad pretty much instantly, and it started to rain really hard. Nevelle yelled “we need to find shelter!”, and we all started to run towards the town.
What happened next, I do not know. The next thing I remember is that I was walking across the bicycle-path next to the street where I live right now, with my left arm wrapped around Nevelle and my right arm wrapped around Cheyenne. They both rested their heads on my shoulders and seemed happy and content. As we crossed a small bridge, I suddenly woke up.
It makes me wonder… what is this dream trying to tell me? I know for sure that I am polyamorous, but who are Nevelle and Cheyenne really, and why was Cheyenne crying? All those questions that will probably never be answered… dreams can be weird indeed.
A few weeks ago I was driving home from groceries, when I passed by a house that was completely hidden by trees and foliage. Curious as I was, I decided to check it out.
As you can see on the photos below the door was covered in moss and the windows were so dirty on both the inside and the outside that it was almost impossible to see inside. The furniture was covered in spider webs and there was a crapload of newspapers and books scattered all over the place. It gave me the strong impression that it was abandoned, and still in pristine condition.
Today I was driving home from a seminar with my co-workers Thom and Reinout. I told them about the “abandoned” house and we decided to check it out. After we arrived and were on the doorstep, Reinout said “There’s someone inside”. At first I said “Nah that’s just the hood of a lamp”, but after inspection there was indeed someone inside. An elderly, bearded man was reading a newspaper in one of the spider-web covered chairs. That was quite bizarre. Apparently someone lives in that house 
Sometimes you look out your (bathroom) window, and the sky just puts a smile on your face.
Ajira Kimberly says (2:11 PM):
wanna draw my thing ? :P
Noshi says (2:12 PM):
eh?
Ajira Kimberly says (2:12 PM):
:P
www.drawmything.com
Noshi says (2:12 PM):
O.o
MSN conversations can be funny if one party doesn’t know what the other is talking about Recently i discovered draw my thing, an highly addictive online drawing game. You can challenge friends via E-mail, or just challenge someone who happens to be online. Go check it out 
Sometimes, a commercial just puts a smile on your face. I like commercials with a good dosage of humor, and if my movie is interrupted for one of those; I don’t mind... Some commercials, however, go beyond that point and just blatantly kick ass.
This is, without doubt, the funniest and coolest commercial I’ve ever seen.
Here we are... 2009... Wow, I feel old all of a sudden... Anyway, I wish you a happy new-year! *big sloppy smooch*
So what’s the plan for 2009? First of all I’m going to give the transition full throttle. This means kicking up the weight loss a few notches, working on my appearance, etc. Secondly, I’m going to look around for some new housing. And thirdly, of course, make this website (even more) worthwhile!
And with that said, we cue the fireworks.