You could’ve drawn comfort by talking to yourself, what with the smooth voice we’ve established you have.
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Oh come on, stop…
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Though I actually preferred the bits where you broke the act and laughed. It’s the same reason I love watching bloopers and outtakes.
Yeah, I think that is because it feels natural when you hear someone break character.
Like when I get surprised when a vase suddenly gets shot into the air. Yeah, that makes me laugh…
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Yeah, I think that’s why. It feels like a priveleged insight into someone’s real personality. Moreso with celebs though, I guess.
I’m having to bookmark a lot of things to watch/listen to later 
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The thing I find most interesting with bloopers is that almost everyone who flubs a line never instantly stops talking but goes on to babble nosense for a bit and flips their tongue or something.
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Wow, it would be cool to get involved in research like this!
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Wow, that’s interesting. Sounds a bit like what Milan and I were talking about re ‘daydreaming’.
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I used to know someone who spent some time at a sleeping research lab at our university a long long time ago. It was to know more about time and natural sleeping habits, so she lived without daylight, clocks and tv, radio and other ways to determine the time. She used to put on records to find out how long to cook a meal etc.
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Haha, good idea!
Unless, you know, it’s Tool or something.
Well “Die Eier von Satan” is a receipe…but yeah generally too long. But that was in the 70s…where there was Yes. 
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This dream doesn’t have a real start, as often happens to me. I’m walking on a beach, alone, or maybe with my wife. My wife is like a friendly ghost presence in the whole dream, she appears and disappears as required in the dream plot. Anyway, I’m alone on the beach, and I’m thinking about the background of the story. Or maybe I’m discussing it with her. The background is: I’m suspected to be a serial murderer. I’m innocent, but nobody cares. People talks about me, in television and in the streets. Everybody hate me. I don’t care if they hate me, I just want everybody to leave me in peace. I’m off for a short holiday for this reason, I want to relax. But I have to go back home, the holiday is over. Here the dream has a fast forward, and I find myself in the street of a town which I know is my home town, even if it is very different from my real life place. I’m alone and I’m heading home. Two preteen boys are walking behind me, in the same direction. They seem to know me, since they are are saying bad things of me. They talk low, but close to me, they want to be sure I’m hearing, as to provoke me. They talk about the murderers I’m supposed to be guilty of, the people I’ve killed, the depravation of my soul.
I decide to play the part of mad criminal and to scare them, to give 'em a lesson. I change my mind when I realize they’re joined by an adult in his fifties, probably their father, walking a big dog with a leash.
So I decide to have satisfaction in a more subtle manner, and I start talking with the man, who is at first reluctant and suspectful (he must know me becaause of the TV, too), but at a certain moment he thinks it is a good occasion to show me his superiority as a “normal” person and underline and condemn my condition. So he starts talking pleasantly until he invites me in his house.
I’m satisfied since I succeded in swerving the conversation from the murders to something else, but I’m disappointed I’m actually trying to be liked by this man. I’m not sure if my plan is working.
So I make a lot of compliments for the house, for the double exposition to the sun, for the funiture, for the garden… for the silence… “it is so silent you’d not say you are in the center of the town”! So I put my hand in my pocket and I show him the ear plugs I use when sleeping.
I oddily note that I wear motorcycle gloves.
Then we move to my home. It is different from my real life home. I introduce him to my wife, and I’m happy he finally states that I’m a “normal” person, with a nice wife, a nice home, a nice and respectable life.
He crushes on my couch, while his daughter (he doesn’t have no longer two sons, but a single daughter) is playing with a portable videogame.
He starts again with moral stuff, blaming me for my lifestyle. He says that a person “in my condition” shouldn’t show himself in shorts, that’s despicable. “Shorts?” “yes, I saw you in television, on the beach”
I’m about to say I was on vacation and I have done nothing wrong, whn I notice he is doing something disgusting: he is trying to squeeze a pimple on his pubis. Right there, on my couch! And showing me his private parts! Why this man should behave in such an unrespectful way, if not to underline his sense of superiority and to show careless about myself and my wife? My wife notices his daughter is playing whit a game in which you have to match priests and nuns in order to make them have sex together.
He says “yes, it’s a funny game. She loves it”.
I think it is a good moment to let the undesired guests go away.
My wife is not with me. I’m with another girl. She is very petite and pretty. She has blonde hair and wears a lab coat. That’s not strange, since she’s my personal optician. She lives in my house.
Don’t ask why I have a personal optician in my home instead of a butler, or a maid, ora gardener. I have a very sweet optician, ok?
She looks at me with love. She hugs me, since she knows I’m shaken by the experience. I feel a strong sensation of affetcion. In that very moment I realize I’m full of love for my optician. I don’t feel guilty, since apparently I’m not married and I don’t have a wife anymore.
I asked myself why I have never realized this feeling about the otpician before.
That’s not about sex, man, this is love! I kiss her. She smiles, and says something like “I thought you were the guy who said he wouldn’t have make love with me”.
I answer “We’re not making love. Or maybe not yet”.
In this very moment I wake up in my bed.
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Maybe the dream is telling you this: don’t try too hard to please people who don’t like you, because they’re far from perfect themselves.
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I kinda feel like I saw that dream late one night…in the 90s…on cable…ahem…
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That reminds me more this one, from Ace Attorney (@tasse-tee do you remember?)
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“Funny” how today I got reprimanded at work for the same reason. It’s the first time I hear of a software house where shorts aren’t accepted. I’m as upset as I can be.
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