Sleep! Who needs it? I sure don't.

Why? Because it leads to micro-naps.

And micro-naps lead to micro-dreams. At least for me. Incredibly vivid and seemingly realistic micro-dreams. This one really stuck with me, though. And I can't get it out of my head, so I thought I’d record it here.

So picture this, this is the setting: Some sunny park set up much like a festival with what looks like a small race track with hurdles and obstacles set off to the side. The race was a piggyback race that had a set number of laps. (5? 10? I don’t remember that part. D: ) And, yes, I said piggyback racing.

I was one of the “horses” in said race. My jockey was our own Ana, our team uniform was me in a white tracksuit that had a Companion Cube pattern on the front with wings on the back, Ana was dressed as Chell. No one else really had a costume for this. But the other horse and rider pairs were:

Shirtless Dave and Pascual

PsEG and slowbird

GlenTennis with Ryan Davis

JJWeatherman and Rich Gallup (Cheater was working on his own.)

Sara Lima carried Vinny Caravella

Yes, Shirtless Dave with one Matt Pascual trying to figure out how to hold on without feeling Dave up. Internet Intern Big Ben (I give great nicknames!) was harassing his jockey with “Hi rider, nice to meet you” constantly. Sara showed off her might by hefting the Italian Stallion. There were some preliminary races that happened that didn’t occur in my dream, but Norm Chan and Matt Rorie were banned for being cheaters (!) and sore losers (Double !). So they were stuck with the duty of being behind the racers to change up the track up for the final lap by adding a hurdle to jump. King of the Interns, Daniel, manned the megaphone and there was a hot dog stand being run by a guy in a suit (ZombiePie?) against another gentleman with a hamburger head (Sweep!) nearby. Some banter between the two about all things British and why one was better than the other. They were competing for Claude and Jeff’s business. When Sweep made a comment about how hotdogs didn’t look like something you’d see on MattyFTM’s face (heehee, testicles) he had won over Jeff with a hamburger. Claude said something about loving his goddamn Wii and went for a wiener. (Ew. (Why did I remember that so well?))

Anyways! Race is about to start. Everyone lines up, Dave and Pascual doing some weird chant, PsEG shaking his head at slowbird, Ryan having difficulty getting up on Ben’s back since the dude is 10 feet tall, JJRichGallupman being smug over the fact that he was basically a one man pair, and Vinny clapping all delighted and such. I turned my head to Ana who said nothing and just nodded, with a “3… 2… Aw fuck, just go go go!” Daniel started our race.

Being the racing type, PsEG/slowbird were off to a great lead, but when slowbird shouted out behind him how he’s always a champion, he lost control and the pair flipped out of control super quickly. It took PsEG and slowbird a bit to realize, but as we all passed, you could barely hear the “GOD DAMMIT, SLOWBIRD” as it was drowned out by the continued chanting of Dave and Pascual. They were moving at a steady pace and passed up Babs and the Italian Stallion jockey; with said stallion deciding to throw his arms out like an airplane. At the time, I wasn’t sure if that was a reference to Wonder Woman and her invisible plane or not, but for now, I’m going to say it was. Ana and I continued to go slow and not saying anything at all, I received a few pats on the back and the occasional foot jab to go faster. JJWeatherman and Gallup held on to second place, trying to keep up with Ben and Ryan, who were leading solely on the fact that Ben feared losing his internship and feared the threats Ryan had sent his way if Ben asked “to meet Rider” one more time.

And in my effort to write this, I nodded off for a bit right here, but don’t worry! I dreamt of this again, slight differences from the first time, but whatever!

So, yes. Racing, piggyback, right. The final lap is approaching, Ben’s exhausted and starts to collapse despite Ryan threatening to can him. Vinny and Sara out of nowhere zoom past, Vinny’s arm bumping Ben giving him that final push to just fall over and pass out. Sara skids to a halt and demands Vinny to play nurse and get Ben back up. Meanwhile, JRichJWeatherGallupman has such a lead that he/they slowdown to a brisk walk. The only other pair aside from Ana and me is the duo of bizarre monk chanting duders, dead set on just going. I look over at Ana who nods, I unzip the track jack to show a turret T-shirt (wat) and with a burst of speed am neck and neck with Shirtless Dave and Pascual. Ana and I stare at them until they glance over and give our best “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” that the turrets in Portal make when they fall over. Uh, yep. Dave and Pascual shout it back, we go again but louder and it dazes Dave and he just stops, holding Matt.

Ana reaches into her pocket, which had a barely noticeable orange glow. It blended so well with her suit. She shoots a blue portal behind us and aims carefully at right in front of Rich Gallup’s a Weatherman, who is about to cross the finish line. An orange portal launches out and that pair is behind us. I give one super exhausted sprint and jump up and fall into the newly placed blue portal and we fly over the finish line.

I don’t even remember what the prize was, but did have one of Will’s $10,000 pies made to look like a cake. Each of us grabbed a piece and did that weird arm lock thing, took a bite and I woke up.

I think it was a chocolate tart.

THE END.

So have I been the only one who has strange dreams like this? Let alone strange Whiskey Media related ones? My sister tends to have dreams with the Giant Bomb staff and she doesn't even really use these websites at all. What's up with that?

And oh god, writing when being up for over 15 hours is bad for you kids, don't do it. (Micronaps or not!)