I’m the production assistant on the season premier of Saturday Night Live. The host is Robert Downey Jr with Kanye West as the musical guest. My job is to announce Robert Downey Jr., which I do by screeching at the top of my lungs. I’m reprimanded because I forget to announce Kanye West as well, which is hastily done by my boss. When it’s Kanye’s time to perform, he spends 40 minutes in a field blowing up balloons and letting them float up towards the sky. Eventually Lorne Michaels comes out and apologizes to the crowd, citing Kanye is going crazy. Meanwhile, I’m in the back, making miniature cheesecakes with my mom. After an hour of dead air, Lorne asks me to do some improv on stage. I sit and make weird faces. Everyone’s pretty disappointed with my performance.
I met this pretty girl in a bar. She had shoulder-length brown hair and seriously dilated pupils. I told her she resembled the actress Natalie Portman. The girl had never heard of her, so I tried bringing up a few movies she stars in, but couldn’t remember any. Before I could say anything else, she jumped me and kissed my mouth. That’s when I noticed her tongue was made out of parmesan cheese.
The Notorious B.I.G. was my estranged uncle. Every Tuesday he would pick me up from rolling skating lessons and take me to his penthouse in New York. During the trips back, we would rap together and he would pick me up and put me on his back. Side note: I’m still 25 in this dream. It ends when I get back to his house and there’s a huge pizza waiting for me, along with a note saying how much he cared about me.
This is a recording of my mother describing a dream she had the other night. It involved Raul Julia and parakeets. I suggest everyone listens.
My brothers and I are at some overpriced Chinese restaurant, arguing about what to order. I order a Mai Tai, drain it, and we continue perusing the menu. Eventually Adam suggests we get pizza instead—so we dine and dash. Meanwhile, my friend Steve is at the greatest karaoke event of his life because Cher and Paul Schaffer (circa 1970’s) are singing “It’s My Party” to a packed house. Steve has a kid, who’s consistently pouring him buckets of wine—eventually Steve gets SO drunk that he drops his iPad into a bucket of cream cheese and jam. The duration of the dream is me and my brothers eating pizza and laughing about how we stiffed the Chinese and Steve chain-smoking cigarettes and drunkenly trying to fix his iPad. His wife then explains to me that this isn’t the first time this has happened, and holds up an old MacBook covered in cream cheese and jam and a sign that says “Out chuggin’ cream cheese — Steve.” This happened.