Night Visions, September 2018

Codes: "IRL" = "in real life". "INV" = "in Night Vision", meaning untrue in real life. 

"Skip" means a sudden transition from one segment to another. "The 1250" references my childhood home, a (too) frequent setting for my visions. Josie is my daughter, and most of my life has been spent with Chicken and Alex as friends. Any other people referenced, past jobs worked at or life experiences are real unless otherwise noted. 

 

 

2014 Archive:  May June July August September October November December

2015 Archive: January February March April May June July August September October November December

2016 Archive: January February March April May June July August September October November December

2017 Archive: January February March April May June July August September October November December

2018 Archive: January February March April May June July August September October November December

2019 Archive: January February March April May June July August September October November Current Month

 

 

 

Night Visions Hall Of Fame

 

 

(Dates of awakening listed)

I'll Put A "Rush" On It! (September 30, 2018)

 

I'm at my old middle school, pass-rushing a high school kid even though no actual football is being played. The kid is strong and fends me off fairly easily...but somehow turns his ankle in doing so.

I apologize, even though I didn't really do anything wrong, but he's not all that accepting and insists either I pay for his treatment or find somebody else whose ankle I sprained to pay for it. Me: "I'll have him call. You have my WORD he'll call!"

 

I return home, obviously a bit stressed. When I find a half-dozen bags of recycling strewn about, in addition to several laundry bags, a broken bathroom light, and random packages of meat not stored...I snap and immediately start destroying everything I get my hands on, spouting out angry gibberish as my grandma reads the Bible or something.

Nobody Saw That Coming (September 29, 2018)

 

As I sort my new box of 2018 Topps baseball cards, my mother hassles me about a liquid in a (sealed) Pepsi bottle actually being Pepsi. Nearby, San Francisco Giants shortstop Brandon Crawford practices his swing while peeing, which expectedly causes his stream to land on his own pants (among other places). Through all this, "Better Be Good To Me" by Tina Turner plays in the background for some reason.

 

Skip to me at a hoop court with Ray Charles and a smattering of others. I'm trying desperately to make what should be an easy, short bank shot—but no matter the position or the hand used, I brick all 20 of my attempts. Of course, Charles makes it on his second try.

 

Finally, we have the A-Team in a machine gun stalemate with some militia-types who later bitch about Hannibal's confidence.

Did They Tie Cans To The Hearse? (September 28, 2018)

 

This is basically a King Of Queens episode; we begin with Doug and Carrie Heffernan at a park—Doug sits on a bed of lilacs and Carrie gives him grief about killing the flowers. Still annoyed, the couple prepares to drive away when their (unnamed) neighbor falls from the sky onto the hood/windshield...quite dead.

 

Along with the Heffernans, I'm attending the service, which is held at a recycling center. A guest tries valiantly—and fails valiantly—to catch me gawking at her legs. Eventually I lose interest in the festivities.

 

Wandering outside a bit, I spot a class of elementary kids lined up. Their teacher is on a walky-talky with the principal—apparently, the teacher forgot to summon the school bus. Stressed, all she can do is pour cold water on her sandaled feet. "I'm not taking the blame."

I walk on, passing the arriving school bus, before the focus shifts back to Doug and Carrie.

 

Carrie is taking the neighbor's death extremely hard. The two return to the park, and a sobbing Carrie—realizing how fortunate she is to have a healthy, living husband—tells Doug "You can even sit on the lilacs...as long as you hold me!!!" Doug happily does both.

 

Skip to a South Park episode spoofing abortion—several adults are stuck in goo, but when the kids try to rescue them, the adults spout out stuff like "I have rights!" and "I don't want to leave! I'M NOT READY." Don't ask me. I just report the visions.

Jerkville (September 26, 2018)

 

Not much, just me in a crowd watching an effeminate black guy absorb heaps upon heaps of verbal abuse, threats and homosexual slurs from his fellow brothas, and me dealing with an athletic jerk boldly rifling through my travel bag near Stanford University and later trying to turn my grandma against me.

 

Fams On The Ground, Fams On The Ground... (September 25, 2018)

 

The same scene loops: in a busy airport, I have to operate some old-school electronic device. Then a 8-year-boy runs behind me down the corridor—every time I catch him, he wets the both of us. Then I, and others, try to evade bad guys who drug us from above before we can reach the opposite terminal. Lather, rinse, repeat thrice.

 

On the fourth loop, I catch the kid and walk him over to his sitter, apologizing for not bringing breakfast as well. We later jog "together", on opposite sides of the road—then I'm beamed back to the airport. There, me and "my" Filipino family attempt the usual escape, but our Alzheimer's-stricken patriarch toughens things. We finally make it toward the opposite terminal, but decide to just collapse on the ground rather than delay the inevitable drugging.

Inception Time! (September 21, 2018)

 

For the first time ever, I have a Night Vision within a Night Vision. Here's what went down:

 

As I do IRL, I'm submitting a Night Vision to my partner Rob, who creates the photos you see on this section of the site. In the vision, I'd made a Drunk Jon comic with he and Garfield's Jon each wondering "Which one of us should Skillz draw (regularly)?", as well as one with DJ mistaking clouds for snow and plummeting to Earth. It also featured chained up nurses, Huey Lewis and the News, and the cast of Happy Days making cameos.

 

After some thought, Rob emails me "I know! I'll have the nurses running around Benny Hill-style with Huey Lewis in back frustrated!" He sends the vision and I LMAO.

 

Skip to me in my room naked playing "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves" by The Eurhythmics and Aretha Franklin...on a stereo. My mom bursts in to yap and won't leave right away until I yell "KNOCK IT OFF!"

 

Finally, soap actor Kristoff St. John—working for the Arizona Diamondbacks—holds a business meeting with ex-major leaguer Pat Listach, telling him "As for capital, we got it all."

Play Dead! (September 20, 2018)

 

There I am—along with many others—at the Oakland Coliseum watching an A's/Angels game on the field near the first-base dugout. We're not the only ones on the field who shouldn't be—for some reason, many the A's fielders have coaches flanking them.

 

Following the new trend of "openers", the starting pitcher is pulled early; I boo and yell "I HATE OPENERS!" and wait for insults that never come. Then I catch a foul grounder, and pass it to a boy who wants to "see" it. He instead starts to toss it with a friend, and won't give the ball back until I use force. Next thing I know, I'm fighting a dozen people outside the stadium—even some who weren't involved—proving comically weak with my left hand, as people repeatedly pull the ball from it with little difficulty.

 

(Between 9/16's vision and this one, I will never give a kid a baseball IRL or INV again...look what happens!!!)

 

Skip to Adam from Mom (the guy in the wheelchair) brushing off an oncoming heart attack. A dog in the garage tries to warn others, but is ignored until he fakes his own heart attack.

 

Also, IRL bud Greg asks me to choose between his (Oakland A's) Nick Swisher jersey or Todd Van Poppel jersey. I pick TVP, since Greg resembles him way more than Swisher.

Who Gave Those Kids Beer? (September 16, 2018)

 

At a Giants game, I catch two home run balls, but it takes forever to find two kids in the crowd to give them to. When I finally do, the kids don't bother to thank me.

 

I soon learn why: they're jerks, and soon begin whacking those baseballs—and more—at a standing teenager, pelting him repeatedly as he screams for mercy. Eventually balls are flying everywhere, and I decide to book it.

 

On the way out, an announcement is made: the Giants are low on available pitchers. I tell Mike Krukow, ex-Giants pitcher now in his mid-60's, that the team may need him to unretire. "Yeah, only if I can throw it this far!" he jokes, measuring about 15 feet. I make a stupid reply and Krukow loses interest.

 

When I leave the park, I pass a giant list of "crazies" due to stay in the mental home. My name is at the top, as is ex-Giant Matt Cain's (with career stats as well.)

Fossil Fury (September 14, 2018)

 

I'm back at my IRL first job, SDS. The (special needs) clients want to play a board game, but we're interrupted by a supe who goes on and on about absolutely nothing important. Another colleague lays his head on me for some reason, and another supe addresses me by the wrong name, and doesn't believe me when I try correcting her.

 

Ultimately, I decide one day is enough and go to quit, but old HS classmate Amon heads me off and instead asks me about my late uncle William—I wind up sobbing and forgetting to quit. Next thing I know, I'm in a motel room, stealing veggies while a Spanish-only man cleans my room uninvited.

 

Following a scene of me shopping at the smallest Walgreen's on record, I become Face from The A-Team and out Katharine Hepburn as having committed some crime on a boat. Kat's father, somehow still alive, is not happy with his daughter.

You CAN Put A Price On Safety (September 13, 2018)

 

As my mom tries to sell her car, I visit a dollar store and diffuse a near physical fistfight between two employees before going next door to rent a mattress...which is not allowed. However, I am loaned an ESPN magazine after expressing totally false NCAA interest just to impress the manager.

 

Returning home angry at traffic, I scream "WHAT?!" into the phone when it rings. It's the car salesman who goes into his pitch as if nothing just happened.

Next, I leave again and turn onto a puddle-filled road...and am promptly ticketed for driving too slow. Continuing on, I barrel past kids in the road rather than slow down and risk another ticket. #Logic

 

Things close with ex-major leaguer Tim Teufel (pronounced Tuffel) homering against my Giants, and pissed-off me calling him Toofel in retaliation.

Oh, Great, He's Still Here (September 11, 2018)

 

Josie exits the shower and wants to perform for the family, but the shirt she wants to wear smells like puke. So instead she chooses to wear my dress shirt and perform as me. Obviously, I want to capture this on camera, but my stupid phone takes forever to load so I have her stop.

Still waiting on the phone to work, Josie gets impatient, fires up "La Bamba" and starts performing anyway. The camera STILL hasn't loaded and I erupt, furiously destroying anything and everything in sight. This MAY have been an overreaction...but I felt better after.

 

Skip to high school; an old nemesis beats me up. then arranges for a ride to spirit him from the scene. Problem is, the ride accidentally drives to San Diego instead.

 

Lastly, I'm sitting at a red light when I notice a taxi change directions three different times at the same intersection, as if lost and high all at once. Suspicious, I follow it when it finally continues—and soon climb in and take it over, demanding no more BS from the passenger.

The dude, who doesn't seem dangerous but is on the shifty side, now wants to go to 7-11. I warn him any further, and I'll demand cash upfront.

He says nothing, and I begin to silently wish for him to try anything so I can assault him.

 

On the way to 7-11, he changes the destination to the "credit union". Fed up with this silly game, I'm ready to end it but WAKE UP before resolution...still mad about that.

 

 

Does This Ride Require A "Big Ticket"? (September 10, 2018)

 

At the beginning, I'm in a high school weightlifting competition with former Raiders announcer Greg Papa as coach—Papa apparently saw me dumping trash in my underwear earlier and wants details...um no. 

The coaches are on my case to the point I'm prepared to quit school altogether...until I'm partnered with two of the weaker competitors. Instead of weightlifting, we start spending our practice time playing with toy windup cars.

 

After a bit of this, we realize our coaches are actually toys, too. One of them, whose face is all distorted and uneven on the right side, begins some silly speech "When you're over 30, you retain wisdom, not strength!"—eventually I stop listening and play with her like the toy she is. 

The next toy/coach turns out to be Josie needing to pee; I am very happy to see her and be free of weightlifting.

 

My next adventure involves a few buddies from yesteryear; we need to make several stops throughout town so we drop off our car near a loitering Kevin Garnett and rent a...motorized carriage? We make our rounds—one of which features my embarrassing attempt to order dinner in Spanish—but of course can't remember where the car is. Not helping our angst: a natural disaster of some sort off in the distance.

 

 

No Stairs? Fock That!  (September 9, 2018)

 

Vision A consists of a 60 Minutes-type story on Ben Stiller and his extremely tall, retarded INV son. During the piece, to illustrate the closeness between father and son, Stiller is seen trying to get to the lower level of his home—apparently there are no stairs and he must somehow lower himself through a trapdoor-like opening. It would be difficult and unsafe...were it not for his hulking son stepping in and lowering Dad to the ground...awww.

 

Vision B begins with me walking around when some creepy middle-aged weirdo stops and gazes at me. Before long he's trying to get closer, but luckily I (and some random reinforcements) subdue him and get him on the short bus. As we drive the guy home, he tries repeatedly to touch me from his seat in back...I didn't know I was that sexy.

 

Vision C puts me on a walk to pick up lunch. I pass my INV neighbor (who's mostly grey despite claiming to be 33) sitting in a parked car. Somehow he knows I looked him up online—I lie that I was interested in his band when actually, I was looking for dirt to get him evicted since his dog sucks.

Nabe invites me back to his apartment window and "treats" me to a recording...it's "We Are Young" by Fun, though he claims it as his band's original.

 

Eventually my hunger takes over and I start to leave—but Nabe wants lunch too; he passes me $20 and asks to bring him "food". Despite my repeated requests to be more specific, he just replies "food".
At the store, I meet a random female and we chat while putting stray clothing on hangers—just to be nice, I suppose. Nabe's lunch issue comes up—she suggests screw him; let's spend his money on our own treat. No opposition here!

 

 

Blue Balls Aren't Always Bad (September 7, 2018)

 

It's late at night, I must pick up Josie, and for some reason my mom and IRL late granny are tagging along. As we pass my neighbor's door, she reveals she has a bag of ours we somehow dropped. Since we gotta go, I ask her to hold on to it for a few.

 

When I do finally go to claim it, my breath is not exactly minty-fresh, but I still decide to shove my tongue in her glossy-lipped mouth—her marriage doesn't stop me from doing it, nor does it stop her from liking it. I do make a mad dash before hubs returns and actually greet him upon his arrival at the door...IRL, she's a smoker so no, and he's a huge street dude so double no.

 

Next, I'm Barry Bonds at a Giants game, sitting behind the first base dugout. I snag a foul ball with my bare hand, discover that it's blue, and scour the seats looking for a kid to gift. On the way down, I'm shocked to find my friends the Walters at the game since they now live in Arizona. Acting as if I'm authorized to do so, I invite them to sit on the field.

 

Despite the game in progress, the family sits on a blanket near the right field bullpen, and I entertain their young son with a silly deep voice. Thankfully, the vision skips before any of us are concussed.

 

Skip to my new INV home—I've moved in with my pal Danelle who promptly leaves on a trip. While she's gone, for whatever reason I feel the need to snoop through her stuff (if you're reading this, Nells, I'D NEVER EVER DO THAT FOR REAL) but am paranoid there's a hidden camera in her room.

I find no camera, nor do I find any items of interest in her stuff. But as I'm leaving, there's some device suspended from the ceiling that I missed before—it follows my movements and sure looks like a camera. Upon closer inspection, it turns out to be a creepy ass lamp.

 

After Danelle texts me images of her in elf getup, soap actor Kristoff St. John arrives with $2000 worth of basketball cards for me. Soon after, he discovers vent damage in the apartment and works to convince management it'll cost exactly $2000 to fix. All the agent can say is "I had a LIEN" over and over again. Eventually Danelle returns; while she makes out with former soap actor Michael Damian, I sit and mourn the loss of my basketball cards.

Poo, Punks, Prentiss And Pizza (September 6, 2018)

 

I leave work with a plan: take a dump at a nearby restaurant, then head to my doctor's appointment at Kaiser Permanente. But an elderly Filipino woman asks for a ride to KP, so I alter my plans and oblige her.

 

Once we reach the hospital, I drop off granny and head for the john; all I can find is a unisex booth of stalls separate from the building. I wait for a woman to finish up her business two stalls over, but by then—despite several minutes of trying—I can't poop.

Having given up and started to leave, naturally, the urge returns, stronger than ever. I JUST BARELY reach the pot in time. Without getting too graphic, I'll just say an epic mess was left behind, and I'm left using my shirt to clean up.

 

As I'm doing so, three teens enter and dig through the trash; I warn them "Don't take the shirt you find in there!"

Upon finally exiting the stall, I overhear one kid talking about stealing and caution him against it, lest his future be affected. To no surprise, the punk is offended that I'm telling him how to live, blah, blah, blah. I wind up actually apologizing to this dude.

Skip to some crime show featuring agents Jareau and Prentiss from Criminal Minds. They are in a standoff of sorts with some lowlife, who's threatening three kids. They call Spencer from Leverage for backup, but he just got a new stereo and refuses to help. As a result, the lowlife is able to "attack" one of the kids with peanut butter, killing her via allergy.

 

Later in the show, the two agents are overseeing the televised opening of a new pizza factory, where a dozen pizzas are seen moving along a conveyor belt (one of them is somehow untopped, as a staffer comically tries to remove it unseen). When the pepperoni can't be found, Jareau and Prentiss immediately spring into action, figuring out someone stole it and took it to the basement.

 

There, the father of the murdered child greets them—triggering the song "You Dropped A Bomb On Me" by The Gap Band. Turns out dad stole the pepperoni as revenge against the agents for their role in his daughter's death. The perfectly illogical ending to a perfectly bizarre night vision.

It's Like A Jungle Sometimes, It Makes Me Wonder (September 4, 2018)

 

This vision begins on a vacant, rainy, windy school lot—LeBron James and I are in a free-throw competition, with three-foot Super Mario pipes acting as the hoops. I have a chance to win but due to the wind's push, I miss four in a row and angrily kick my ABA basketball away...then can't find it.

 

My search skips to the 1250, where various people from my life are chillin' under a blanket. I check around, even under the blanket, but no ball. Then I'm magically transported to my boy Nell's house; he truly wants to hang, forcing me to struggle for lies and excuses to continue my ball search.

At one point I'm in his backyard barefoot on wet soil...still empty-handed. Making matters worse, the package of fish I brought to cook has also vanished.

 

Some time passes and I again head outside. Passing through a room, I encounter my aunt, who is bitter that Nell broke his promise to bring her McDonald's. I joke "Just like O.J. searchin' for the real killers!" As I continue through the room, sure enough, there's O.J. six feet away watching TV...I pretend somebody else made the remark.

 

Back in the yard, I hunt for the ball AND fish. Nell's daughter Abby mows the grass as I mace a raccoon who then FLIES away. Replacing him: a white coyote. I repeatedly scream like mad for Abby, but she just runs in multiple directions like a scared cat. Eventually the coyote itself charges across the yard, U-turns, sprints the other way, grabs an animal and flies off as well.

I never do find my ball. Or fish.

 

Skip to some sort of pricey club; actor Billy Campbell is "Ridge", a baseball player who "impresses" others by...whacking baseballs at random. Annoyed, I "accidentally" call him names like "Bridge" and "Fridge" to piss him off. It works—he stares me down as he fungos about five baseballs out into the distance, which is supposed to intimidate me...but obviously doesn't.

 

We reach the yard of our party host, and just to shut him up I dare Ridge to hit a baseball over a distant pole (where I know it'll damage something). He does...and immediately realizes the implications, angering him more.

Inside the party, his kids are insufferable and taunt me, dumping my boxes of organized hoop cards all over the ground. I respond by promising to beat the hell out of one of them if he drops one more ("I don't care if you a teenager!"); he's so shocked he complies.

 

Eventually, Ridge and I reach a truce...until I see he's deliberately blocked my car in the long, narrow driveway with crappy parking. I re-enter the house, where a trio of soul sisters repeat the first line of Grandmaster Flash's "The Message" on loop as I try unsuccessfully to search for Ridge.