And in my dream, there was Kerouac. It ws some multi bed place where people would sleep, but also broadcast radio. Kerouac went on and there was my friend from work, Rich Michelle. He was pissed at Kerouac, who by now was finished on the radio and laying in bed. Rich was going on next, doing some show about scottish dragons. I was talking to Rich in another place in my dream, a mafia run store/pastry shop where an earlier part of my dream took place, and he was saying something about
"Who does that guy think he is? Blah Blah Blah. He thinks his shit don't stink, blah blah. I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind"...
Walks up to Kerouac's bed, and takes down a poster next to it of a grey field with a red and yellow stylized drawing of a medevil dragon head.
"You know Ed, you've got a lot of nerve, blah blah"
And Rich walks off to the broadcast room past the beds.
Kerouac doesn't really respond, just slumps back over into the sheets. I walk over toward kerouac, and tug on his shoulder sleeve,
"Did that guy just call you 'Ed'?"
Kerouac shrugs his shoulders sleepily, and turns back over. So I pull out a big black and white photo poster, that looks just like the bed he's in, just in the morning time, with light all around streaming in somehow. I try to put it up where the dragon poster was, but that doesnt go far. I don't know, it won't stay up, or I can't get to it. So I plan to pin it to the sheets on the front of the bed with a clothespin. As I'm doing it, Kerouac wakes up and catches me.
That's when I woke up.
No lucid dreams yet.