Icebox Records » Dreams

BOREDOMS 9/9/9

Jason Cooley — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 14:56:34 +0000

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Sick and perfumed

Eric Olsen — Fri, 28 Mar 2003 01:32:11 +0000

Got sick over the course of last evening … woke up knowing I had a fever due to my dreams … fine fine form … performing a Led Loco show from a large 4 post bed, all of us in it, people all around us, I sang ”Have a Drink on Me” fairly well, hit the notes … laughed myself awake at one point watching my pal Austin get overly indignant with my pal Dan who had just slapped his faux baloney hoagie out of his hands … driving to Montpelier and flying back on a 757 crammed with screaming toddlers, some girl behind me going on and on with her boyfriend about how much she LOVES movies, such style and emotion, the whole while mentioning fairly middle of the road movies like Gladiator and The Big Chill as if they were high art … the plane began falling out of the sky, waking me up

Will be flying very soon … Costa Ricky in 4 days.

So I get up at 6:30am, my skin hot but my inner coil icy, all weak and feeble … a cough cripples when you’re like that. So I go to the 24 supermarket to fetch some goods for the ill, basically preparing a Sick Basket … lozenges, tea, honey, thermometer (came out at 100.9), aspirin, what have you … fruit, too. And oatmeal. Whatever. So I buy and leave, try to start the car I just bought from Austin for 500 bucks, and it’s flooded … I sit there and a nice fellow comes over and offers a jump. I explain, and he sympathizes wiith me. I feel hopeful as he waves and drives off … I offer him a small smile.When it finally starts, I see an older woman who works at the Blimpie up the street from our office carrying too many bags to handle comfortably for such a long walk back to the sandwich shop. I offer her a ride, I guess because the niceness of the other fellow had rubbed off on me … she smiles and gets in, and immediately her perfume fills the car, a sickly smell, sweet, like old dirty flower-vase water and overripe oranges with cloves pierced into the rinds. I sped up. And got her there in record time.…

…and still the smell lingers. Sure as shit, she left something behind. Fucking kindness … just made me feel sicker.

Typical email conversation with Chris Lentz

Jason Cooley — Thu, 27 Mar 2003 01:29:17 +0000

COOLEY:
last night I had a dream that I was involved in a plane crash and stranded in Maine. I went to a record store there and saw “Dirty” on double vinyl, so I bought it for you, since you’ve been looking for it. Upon leaving the store I looked in the bag and had gotten the wrong record, a bootleg instead. I went back and said “I’ve got the wrong record” and they gave me the right one, tho it was fifty cents more ($12.49).

LENTZ:
That is the greatest dream I have ever heard about. To me, it symbolizes the deep love that you feel for me. I’m not kidding either. Dreams about records=love. I also forgot that I was looking for Dirty on vinyl. Thanks for reminding me.

COOLEY:
It’s getting re-released on quadruple vinyl this summer, cuz the CD’s getting the same 2CD expansion treatment as
“Who’s Next” in a couple of weeks.

LENTZ:
I had a dream about shitting last night. I won’t go into it.

COOLEY:
Dreams about shitting=love

LENTZ:
In that case, I dream about shitting on you.

COOLEY:
Should I plunk down $30 for the “Who’s Next” double CD thing? Ugh.

LENTZ:
Regardless of what I have to say, I know you’re gonna go out and buy it anyway. I don’t know. What did they do to it this time?

COOLEY:
Who’s next: some demos, the whole live Lifehouse show they did at “the Vic”…when everybody was supposed to
be connected with the one note pure and easy and personalties would get intertwined with computers and whatnot. Yup.

LENTZ:
Yeah, get the WHO’s NEXT. What’s thirty bux? Five maybe six, miserable Canadian-occupied tables at the Five Spice?

Sheesh.

dream last night

Jason Cooley — Tue, 11 Mar 2003 15:01:36 +0000

dream:
A guy who posts on the Kochalka website forum “Steveistops” turns out to be a writing editor for PLAYBOY. Somehow he hooks Kochalka up with this really hot playmate. They are going at it in my living room. She has nice red panties on. I leave and go to work. My bosses are thinking of making a complaint to the Muzak company. They feel that the musical choices that Muzak is providing lacks variety and that customers don’t even know it’s there. I think of people like Mark Arm working at the Muzak place to make ends meet and put forth the idea that if the customers don’t know the music is there, then the Muzak people are doing their job, the whole point of their existence is to provide music that doesn’t challenge the listener or disrupt his meal. If the customer notices the music, then there is a problem. I don’t remember how this went over. I leave to get coffee. Then I see my old roommate Ashley on the street and tell her I’m not really a detective. She says she knows and starts laughing and then I wake up.

Umm

Jason Cooley — Mon, 10 Feb 2003 10:30:59 +0000

Waiting around the house for an important phone call. I had some trouble sleeping last night after watching this gruesome HBO special about cannibalistic murderers. The last guy they reported on was this creepy Japanese guy who shot and ate his lover in the late 70’s and through some sort of international loophole (the killing took place in Paris) he is now a free man…so I kept hearing noises and in my half-asleep state was sure he had flown here from Japan to eat me.

People who order half-skim half-regular double-shot half-regular half-decaf no foam lattes and then pay for them with their credit cards can eat shit for all I care.