Pictures of Robots, Part III of III

And now, the stunning conclusion to the most epic trilogy since Star Wars Episodes I-III.

This morning I've been pretty busy, actually. I've updated my Record Nerd collection (link to the right!), my DVD Aficionado list (again, link to the right!), and I've been catching up on this. I think it's all to get my mind off of the most fucked-up dream I've had lately from last night.

This perfectly demonstrates how watching something for no more than three minutes can really fuck up your psyche. Last night Amy and I went shopping for her so she could get new work-related clothes for her new job (server at Smokey Bones). When we came home, it was late and I hadn't eaten dinner yet, so I went into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. While I was doing that, Amy took it as the perfect opportunity to squeeze in some guilt-free "American Idol." When I finished making my sandwich, I came into the living room and it was still on, so I put my sandwich down and put in my new The Prestige DVD (great flick!) so we could watch it. However I had to endure a few minutes of Idol.

Anyways, so last night I had the following dream:

I was a contestant on "American Idol." It felt as though I was being pushed into doing it, so when I was on stage, I didn't try very hard and I didn't smile at all. However, everyone thought I did very well, and made it to the next part, which was, apparently a big musical number with all the contestants singing and dancing. The fucked up part here was that, I started to try really hard. I was really conflicted because I would start trying and smiling, but then I would catch myself doing it and was upset. Then after that, I sat down with my family (of course they were there - every other related public embarrassment my family's been there) and watched a quartet sing. One of the singers was a particular ex-girlfriend of mine. I was like, "What the fuck's she doing here?!"

And then one of the singers whipped out a samurai sword and it turned into him doing a martial arts demonstration.

And then, for some reason, I was suddenly in a school circa 1965 where there was a shark loose. Yes, a shark. The school was flooded and there was a shark in it, chomping on the feet of teachers with B-52 haircuts.