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Dream diary, 10/13/11: The Atheist Comedian Conference and Pizza Party

I dreamed that Ingrid and I were hosting an atheist conference in our house, with a line-up combining famous atheist writers and atheist stand-up comedians, and with an informal pizza party in our basement at the dinner break. I was enjoying hanging out with Richard Dawkins, but was irritated that the vegetarian pizza all got eaten before I got any.

I woke up thinking, “Wait a minute. We don’t have a basement.”

Comments

  1. says

    I dated a woman for a couple years whose blood sugar would crash after any kind of physical activity (like sex) and until she had some juice and got her glucose levels back up, she would be quite incoherent. Once she said to me, “You better go down in the basement and feed the dinosaurs.” I said, “Honey, I don’t have a basement.” And she replied, “Of course you have a basement. Where would the dinosaurs live if you don’t have a basement?” 10 minutes later she had no memory of having said that and was sure I’d made it up.

  2. Greta Christina says

    Once she said to me, “You better go down in the basement and feed the dinosaurs.” I said, “Honey, I don’t have a basement.” And she replied, “Of course you have a basement. Where would the dinosaurs live if you don’t have a basement?”

    She sure ran rings around your logic there.

  3. HP says

    Odd coincidence: Last night I dreamed that Christopher Hitchens and Sam Harris moved into my parents’ conservative, suburban neighborhood in Indiana. They turned out to be excellent neighbors, and I had to bite my lip and not start arguments about the advisability of invading Iraq and why Buddhism is not what Sam Harris thinks it is.

  4. Theresa Willis-Gardocki says

    Actually, you DO have a basement, but it is only there when you are asleep. The pointy people live there. Sweet dreams.

  5. says

    The basement where the dinosaurs live and eat all the vegetarian pizza may not be real, but it is true.

    This morning, I woke up from a dream in which I was hatchet-jobbed by a blogger. In the dream, they were someone I had used to read regularly, but I’d gradually stopped paying attention to their blog, and now they were going all-out against me — saying that my use of “ZOMG!!eleventy!” robbed my writing of all credibility, for example. People who had trolled my site then joined in, crowing that the fact I had deleted a comment of theirs once years ago demonstrated my moral turpitude.

    Yeah, maybe I’ve been around the Internet too long.

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