Dreams...

[TomAz]

My interpretation is that you are a stupid twat.

[Alchemy]

I had a dream that the NYTimes had an election prediction based on a poll they did, and they expected Romney to win with over 500 electoral votes. Obama only had about 20. This girl I know sent me a text message about how devastated she was over Obama being set to lose, and then she followed that text with another, asking me to go over and have sex with her. I sent her a text saying that I was on my way, and soon after, NYTimes fixed their prediction, claiming that they accidentally left a zero out of something, and their prediction put Obama and Romney in a dead heat, but with Romney "expected to win by 1 point." Naturally, I woke up before the sex.

[bug on your lip]

[ThatGirl]

My interpretation is that you are a stupid twat.

Tom, this name calling is really juvenile. Considering you are one of the oldest, if not the oldest board participant, I find it really embarrassing for you. But of all the things you call me, which I know I'm not, I'd rather be all of those things than the thing you really are. I just have enough class and respect for myself not to lower myself by trading insults with you.

[TomAz]

Instructions

How to Identify a Classy Woman

1 There is no classier woman than a woman who spends time with herself for grooming purposes. Look at a lady from head to toe. Her hair should look like it's been brushed and styled. It should not look like she just got out of bed or have been lying around on the couch all day (like some untalented stylists have lead some women to believe).

2 Look at the hands. They should be clean and groomed. The nails can be short or long. They can be polished or unpolished. The polish should not be chipping off.

3 Look at the feet, if they are exposed. They should be clean and smooth. There should not be the appearance of a light "pie crust" around the feet. The nails should be short. They can be polished or unpolished. The polish should not be chipping off.

4 The lady should have a smooth and flowing gait. They should not walk hunched over. They should not drag and slide their feet. Their head should be up and not starring down. Their arms should be close to their body as they walk.

5 A classy woman will always leave you with the impression of "I wonder what...". However, if a woman has a nice body and she feels she has to practically be undressed to make sure you see her (The ole if you got it flaunt it mentality), not only is she not classy, she is insecure. This is evident by the fact that when she goes to meet your mother, she tries to dress like a librarian.

6 A classy woman will always leave the privilege of seeing her assets to the special man in her life. You must ask yourself, does a woman have to advertise to every man on the planet what her body looks like? If so, is there anything special she's reserving for the special man in her life to see?

7 Look for confidence in a classy woman. They make men wonder. They treat themselves as if they are royalty. A classy woman understands that if she doesn't treat herself as if she's special, she shouldn't expect a man to treat her as if she's special.




Read more: How to Identify a Classy Lady | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/how_2184197_iden...#ixzz2A4D2CKCs

[TomAz]

Classy Lady Review Highlights
8 Reviews of Classy Lady
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Have you been to Classy Lady? Write a review and get a free 4 week VIP membership to tuscl.net.

"Stopped in for a beer on my way home from work today. There were two dancers on duty..." • dippy (April 25, 2012)

"I used to love this place. It was a perfect place to go to get a couple beers, watch..." • dippy (February 27, 2012)

"I stopped by eariler tonight for the first time in a couple of months, and I was very surprised. The place..." • dippy (October 29, 2011)

"As others have said, this place is more like a local dive bar than a clib club. Although, it..." • dippy (March 14, 2011)

"I had seen what appeared to be a very non-descript club on Sepulveda in Van Nuys. I drove up..." • aladude (April 18, 2010)

"I went here on a tip. The dance floor is nice, but seating is pretty limited. I noticed a couple..." • musixman (December 20, 2006)

"Not your typical LA club. More Like a dive bar with strippers. This is a biker bar, not for..." • gdm1008 (May 4, 2006)

"Went to this club on January 8th (2005). Pretty dead but it was raining hard outside, so maybe that kept..." • tehach (January 29, 2005)

[miscorrections]

More a dive bar than a clib club? What a disappointment.

[TomAz]

yeah i know.

[HowToDisappear]

So I dream I'm in college, and the professor gives us this assignment whereby we must complete a very complex crossword puzzle. The word clues are a series of maddeningly obtuse riddles referencing obscure poetry (also art, books, and photography) that are or revolve around the theme of elegies. But the crossword is a waffle (and I love waffles) so as I've nearly completed it, I get hungry and I eat it.

Next day before class, I kind of panic because I don't know how I'm going to prove I've done my work, so I dig frantically through my notebook looking for the one page handout with the list of clues, and I write down the answer next to each clue. But I'm missing two. Some girl in class that I've never met pipes up that she's a photography major and knows the answer to one of them. But we're both missing the last one, because we're clueless about this poem about a man who lives in a skyscraper and jumps to his death from his 10th floor balcony. The poem itself talks of the people who busily go about their daily lives on the street below, unaware of what anguish he is feeling in the world above them, until he literally lands at their feet.

I wake up and think... a crossword waffle??? WHAT???

[Dogvolta]

As a child I had a recurring dream that I would wake up from either 1. shaking and covered in vomit and tears with my mom cleaning it off of me 2. being held and rocked by my mom while shaking and crying or 3. sitting in the bathtub filled with water with my mom trying to sooth me.

The dream: I'd be walking through a massive field of grass. Typically there was another person, a friend or acquaintance, walking with me. We would be innocently picking little flowers, daisys I believe. A few times we'd be picking something equally small and insignificant out of the grass, but random, such as little cheerios.
Eventually (the dreams always seemed incredibly brief) I would see a MASSIVE machine, simple in design but fucking huge. To either side of the machine were my mom and dad. They would be about ready to activate the machine. I then flipped the fuck out and tried screaming loudly over and over (unsuccessfully) for them to leave the machine alone. They never heard/cared, and I only vaguely remember LOUDNESS and hopelessness and horror. Horror beyond death, it is like my little consciousness comprehended eternal damnation pain and suffering beyond death.
The worst parts were always in the moments just before snapping out of it, being 50% awake but absolutly full of dread and fear. It was during those moments my parents would hear me moaning and screaming. I guess I would be in that moment for 5 minutes or so, sometimes barfing.

[mountmccabe]

My wife and I were doing a series of long challenges, which were referred to as games. I went through the first several days in my dream by I don't remember them now. I do remember waking up for the last one and being very groggy, from working so hard at these.

Our final task was hunting Tom. We had to drive this ragged tank/tractor looking thing. It had a turret but also a lot of exposed gears and complicated mechanical bits to drive it. Randy was a secondary target; not officially but I figured it would be good and he has posted that he would be "two hours away" which narrowed it down to a few spots.

We had until 6 AM the next morning. I was eager to start but Tiffany said I should change out of my loose bathrobe first which confused me until I went to start the thing and almost got it caught in the gears.

Then I woke up and tried to tell Tiffany about the dream I just had but I could not explain it at all and wasn't able to express anything and was getting scared.

Then I actually woke up.

[xuclarockerx]

As a child I had a recurring dream that I would wake up from either 1. shaking and covered in vomit and tears with my mom cleaning it off of me 2. being held and rocked by my mom while shaking and crying or 3. sitting in the bathtub filled with water with my mom trying to sooth me.

The dream: I'd be walking through a massive field of grass. Typically there was another person, a friend or acquaintance, walking with me. We would be innocently picking little flowers, daisys I believe. A few times we'd be picking something equally small and insignificant out of the grass, but random, such as little cheerios.
Eventually (the dreams always seemed incredibly brief) I would see a MASSIVE machine, simple in design but fucking huge. To either side of the machine were my mom and dad. They would be about ready to activate the machine. I then flipped the fuck out and tried screaming loudly over and over (unsuccessfully) for them to leave the machine alone. They never heard/cared, and I only vaguely remember LOUDNESS and hopelessness and horror. Horror beyond death, it is like my little consciousness comprehended eternal damnation pain and suffering beyond death.
The worst parts were always in the moments just before snapping out of it, being 50% awake but absolutly full of dread and fear. It was during those moments my parents would hear me moaning and screaming. I guess I would be in that moment for 5 minutes or so, sometimes barfing.

holy shit

[miscorrections]

In one of my dreams last night I was working for a reality show in production - one of those Real Housewives/Shahs of Sunset/whatever whatever trashy rich people shows except about the horsey set in the South. I was running down the production details/general expectations with one of the families and they were all so horrible except one girl who was FURIOUS that her mom had agreed to do it. I was kinda bummed that she would get dragged into it and recommended that she be as boring as possible whenever cameras were around.

[miscorrections]

And I don't have a tv or watch that junk so I'm not entirely sure how it crept into my consciousness.

[DruggyFestivalGuy]

And I don't have a tv or watch that junk

[fatbastard]

No dream last night. The 4 advils worked.

[SepaGroove]

For me it was 2 Norcos.

[Courtney]

I was driving my mother's old Volvo station wagon from my childhood down a crazy, steep, winding, narrow highway, and the steering wheel was jammed from turning, and then it popped off entirely.

That's not easy to interpret or anything.

[ThatGirl]

Last night I dreamed I was in Vegas in a swanky, large hotel casino, and a drunken David Hasselhoff challenged me to a game of pool, but kept insisting his name was Gerry.

[xuclarockerx]

Dreamt that I snuck into Courtney Love's house, twice. She lived in Canada and right across the street from Kurt's house. She caught me both times but let me run before calling the police. She was looking up the number in a white pages book.

[ThatGirl]

Weird about dreaming of famous people lately. I dreamed a couple nights ago that my husband had pulled everything out of the storage room and left it all over the house. There was dog hair and dust everywhere and it was cluttered and messy. Taylor Lautner was renting a room in my house and was lying around shirtless and wasn't helping clean up, and hadn't paid me rent. I was angry because I know he's rich and could easily cover rent. I was walking around the house with only a sheet covering me and saw Taylor lying on the couch, not helping clean the mess. I walked by him and said "Hey Jacob, rent is due, mother fucker." and walked outside.

[nyarlathotoats]

Just woke up from a disturbing dream: Apparently, my deceased uncle kept trying to touch me and in my dream, it felt like that meant I would be a goner in waking life. It scared the fuck out of me.

[fatbastard]

Last night’s dream was a long one. We were eating at a restaurant; lots of white linen, and old people. The food was delicious and delivered in a timely fashion. Everything was great. For some reason, towards the end of the meal, the wait staff started coming over and taking our plates without asking, really really fast, like we were at a coffee shop, and they needed the table. I asked one specific waiter not to take the plates away. The person continued to smile and take the plates away. For some reason, I started shouting in a loud anger manner and began holding the plates they were trying to take. The whole restaurant became silent and began to look at me in fear. The maitre d then came over with some type of dessert and mumbled something about gratis to the table. The waiter who was taking the plates came back and apologized, in an honest and scared manner. Both came back a second time together and I honestly apologized for the outburst. The night felt ruined.

[Somewhat Damaged]

From a couple nights ago: I'm roaming the hallways of a university, looking in on each classroom. There are various non-school activities being conducted -- interviews being given, television shows being filmed, a TV chef shooting an infomercial. Suddenly, I feel the intense urge to shit. I steal away into the nearest bathroom, in which the toilet is mere feet away from a French interviewer talking with a very serious actor. I make hand gestures towards the interviewer to apologize for the interruption as I sit down. I feel what I know will be an awesomely loud fart coming on and try to suppress it but it's too powerful. It echoes through the room. The interviewer attempts to stifle his laughter and has to put his hand over his mouth. The actor just continues talking as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. I again gesture to express my sincere apologies. After a couple more thunderous farts, a torrent of shit explodes out of me. The actor is finally forced to take notice, looking at me and laughing incredulously. Then he and the interviewer start to shit as well.

[algunz]

FB, do you resent a change in service? It could be cable or it could be blow jobs.

SD, shit often represents a holding on of negative feelings and possibly things that you are ashamed of.

[sonnyboy11]

I finally had a Coachella dream. I dreamed Willie Nelson and Sting were among the headliners and it had been moved to Las Vegas. I was in Vegas but holding off on going since the line-up sucked. But then I decided I needed to get over there. But I found myself caught in heavy traffic with Pearl Jam's Alive playing on the radio and I was frustrated.

All true to the best of my recollection.

Analyze that, Algunz!

[algunz]

I'd rather forget you even mentioned it. That sounds terrible. Especially the Vegas part.

[ThatGirl]

I would also say SD is harboring guilt or shame about something. Anything you've been wanting to hide lately?

[fatbastard]

I dreamt that two other people and I were emptying out a large house.

In addition to the house,the area contained separate structures, such as a barn and guest houses. At times it felt like a girl who played with fire type of investigation and part collecting everything for some type of auction house sale. We methodically went room by room and tagged everything. Example. The upstairs portion of the barn had this ugly blue carpet with gold leaves and one of the corners had about 3 feet missing at one of the corners. It looks like a dog or some other type of animal had pulled it out. The barn had a large walk in closet. There were 6 large leather jackets. All of them were faded by the sun and one of them had portions of the jacket covered with mold. One of the other two people put them up on hangers. We had our own hangers, plastic gloves and were documenting them into a database.

The process of collecting and organizing everything felt like it had a purpose and a tone of responsibility was in the room.

I woke up feeling like a task had been completed.

[ThatGirl]

Dreamt I was in a movie theatre with a bunch of friends watching another Hangover sequel which was awful. The lights came up and I was wearing my zip up Coachella sweatshirt. My friend looked at me and said "that poem is really bad." I guess the black light in the theater revealed a poem that was hidden through the seams of my sweatshirt. Then we left the theatre going up hill on scooters.