what the hell?! BF2 explicit female version dream?! Good lord man.leetkyle wrote:
I had 2 dreams of BF2, both vivid - but that was it..
One was just infantry (me as a medic lol).. and one other, somewhat explicit female version ;P
well, go to devils perch!usmarine2005 wrote:
You guys need mental help.
that looks like lava.. your sigeFFe wrote:
Dreaming of BF2 = sick
rofl
You need mental help before you really kill someone.. lolWindrider_Melb wrote:
In real life I've found three "trained" behaviours kicking in.
If I get in the car after a long session of BF2 I'll drive it like an FAV; real ragged like. It's quite dangerous.
If I'm driving down the road and someone steps up to the curb my first instinct is to swerve and roadkill them.
If I'm out and I spot someone coming out of their front door, moving in a certain way, I'll instinctively try to pull my weapon up and sight on them to check their tag in preparation for a shot.
As for the dreamworld...
I had one dream that was just uber awesome. For a long time, like 10 years, I didn't really dream much. Since I started on anti-depressants I've been getting lots of really cool dreams. This one was awesome...
It was sunset in Mashtuur City. The reds and purples of the setting sun were lighting-up the high clouds and the colours were reflecting off the marbled floor of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cooling rapidly and cars were going past in the streets outside. The Colonel and I were in our desert fatigues, but without our kevlar or our longarms; just our pistols.
We were having drinks in the lobby bar, we were there to meet two people. The two other lads in our squad were across the lobby, keeping their eyes peeled. I watched the activity in the street, this time tomorrow it'd all be gone. Cars. People. Gone. This could even be the last sunset I would ever see. I shifted on the barstool as someone walked too close to me. I turned to track him with my eyes and a beautiful arab woman walked into my view. She was wearing a black skirt and white shirt, black pantyhose with black high-heels, her long hair flowing over her shoulders.
I realised this was my contact and got up to greet her. We shook hands and exchanged names. I don't recall hers. The man that had come too close did a discreet lap of the lobby and returned. As squad leader it was my duty to organise things. The Colonel outranked me but had joined the squad late. She was our contact in the local community. The locals in this suburb would help us. We had come ahead to help them.
We were here to organise the resistance. In two hours the MEC forces would be here to take the city. In two hours the USMC would be here to do the same. The battle for the city wouldn't happen until first light tomorrow, but what was happening now was just as important. Mashtuur would be a pivotal centre for whichever side won it. Logistics. Stockpiling. Airmobility. Repair. Medical. Vital. We needed to secure places to rapid drop airmobile artillery and C&C assets.
The four of us strode into the street, followed by our two squadmates. The traffic was gone and only pedestrians were about. The sun was down, the violet glow off the clouds casting an eerie light. In the distance, at the other end of the road, we could see locals overturning cars and creating barracades. Our counterparts organising the locals friendly to the opposing side. The Colonel and I had eaten some of the same dirt when we came ashore at Oman a few weeks ago. We had come to know each other well and were used to working with each other.
Our eyes locked and then we started directing the assembling locals through our contacts. Forklifts here, concrete blocks there. LMGs here, here and there. At the other end of the road someone paused to watch as people at our end scurried around preparing defenses. Activity at their end became more frenetic. We directed blocking of alleys and roads with abandoned cars and empty drums, suggesting them be filled with concrete.
I looked at my watch, the only illumination the city lights. Twenty minutes. I called this out to the Colonel. He nodded. Electricity tonight, but probably not tomorrow. Not after the substation had been fought over. I could hear two hummers throttles wide open, roaring down the road from the mountains. If things were going to plan there were two more hummers of troops at the gas station on the ridge. The hummers pulled-up in front of the hotel and the squaddies fanned out defensively around the engineers.
In the distance the sound of heavy lift choppers drifted through the night, their blades cutting the air into slices. Just like the sweep hand on my watch was cutting the time. Counting down to certain confrontation in the heart of the desert. The clouds had vanished into the cold night air. The stars were bright, brighter than I was used to. The choppers grew suddenly louder as they crested the ridge, their dark bulk blotting out the stars.
\\'
seriously ur fucking crazyDeathUnlimited wrote:
You need mental help before you really kill someone.. lolWindrider_Melb wrote:
In real life I've found three "trained" behaviours kicking in.
If I get in the car after a long session of BF2 I'll drive it like an FAV; real ragged like. It's quite dangerous.
If I'm driving down the road and someone steps up to the curb my first instinct is to swerve and roadkill them.
If I'm out and I spot someone coming out of their front door, moving in a certain way, I'll instinctively try to pull my weapon up and sight on them to check their tag in preparation for a shot.
As for the dreamworld...
I had one dream that was just uber awesome. For a long time, like 10 years, I didn't really dream much. Since I started on anti-depressants I've been getting lots of really cool dreams. This one was awesome...
It was sunset in Mashtuur City. The reds and purples of the setting sun were lighting-up the high clouds and the colours were reflecting off the marbled floor of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cooling rapidly and cars were going past in the streets outside. The Colonel and I were in our desert fatigues, but without our kevlar or our longarms; just our pistols.
We were having drinks in the lobby bar, we were there to meet two people. The two other lads in our squad were across the lobby, keeping their eyes peeled. I watched the activity in the street, this time tomorrow it'd all be gone. Cars. People. Gone. This could even be the last sunset I would ever see. I shifted on the barstool as someone walked too close to me. I turned to track him with my eyes and a beautiful arab woman walked into my view. She was wearing a black skirt and white shirt, black pantyhose with black high-heels, her long hair flowing over her shoulders.
I realised this was my contact and got up to greet her. We shook hands and exchanged names. I don't recall hers. The man that had come too close did a discreet lap of the lobby and returned. As squad leader it was my duty to organise things. The Colonel outranked me but had joined the squad late. She was our contact in the local community. The locals in this suburb would help us. We had come ahead to help them.
We were here to organise the resistance. In two hours the MEC forces would be here to take the city. In two hours the USMC would be here to do the same. The battle for the city wouldn't happen until first light tomorrow, but what was happening now was just as important. Mashtuur would be a pivotal centre for whichever side won it. Logistics. Stockpiling. Airmobility. Repair. Medical. Vital. We needed to secure places to rapid drop airmobile artillery and C&C assets.
The four of us strode into the street, followed by our two squadmates. The traffic was gone and only pedestrians were about. The sun was down, the violet glow off the clouds casting an eerie light. In the distance, at the other end of the road, we could see locals overturning cars and creating barracades. Our counterparts organising the locals friendly to the opposing side. The Colonel and I had eaten some of the same dirt when we came ashore at Oman a few weeks ago. We had come to know each other well and were used to working with each other.
Our eyes locked and then we started directing the assembling locals through our contacts. Forklifts here, concrete blocks there. LMGs here, here and there. At the other end of the road someone paused to watch as people at our end scurried around preparing defenses. Activity at their end became more frenetic. We directed blocking of alleys and roads with abandoned cars and empty drums, suggesting them be filled with concrete.
I looked at my watch, the only illumination the city lights. Twenty minutes. I called this out to the Colonel. He nodded. Electricity tonight, but probably not tomorrow. Not after the substation had been fought over. I could hear two hummers throttles wide open, roaring down the road from the mountains. If things were going to plan there were two more hummers of troops at the gas station on the ridge. The hummers pulled-up in front of the hotel and the squaddies fanned out defensively around the engineers.
In the distance the sound of heavy lift choppers drifted through the night, their blades cutting the air into slices. Just like the sweep hand on my watch was cutting the time. Counting down to certain confrontation in the heart of the desert. The clouds had vanished into the cold night air. The stars were bright, brighter than I was used to. The choppers grew suddenly louder as they crested the ridge, their dark bulk blotting out the stars.
\\'
usmarine2005 wrote:
You guys need mental help.
What, you mean on top of the Psychologist and Psychiatrist that I see regularly?savking wrote:
seriously ur fucking crazyDeathUnlimited wrote:
You need mental help before you really kill someone.. lolWindrider_Melb wrote:
In real life I've found three "trained" behaviours kicking in.
If I get in the car after a long session of BF2 I'll drive it like an FAV; real ragged like. It's quite dangerous.
If I'm driving down the road and someone steps up to the curb my first instinct is to swerve and roadkill them.
If I'm out and I spot someone coming out of their front door, moving in a certain way, I'll instinctively try to pull my weapon up and sight on them to check their tag in preparation for a shot.
As for the dreamworld...
I had one dream that was just uber awesome. For a long time, like 10 years, I didn't really dream much. Since I started on anti-depressants I've been getting lots of really cool dreams. This one was awesome...
It was sunset in Mashtuur City. The reds and purples of the setting sun were lighting-up the high clouds and the colours were reflecting off the marbled floor of the hotel lobby. The evening air was cooling rapidly and cars were going past in the streets outside. The Colonel and I were in our desert fatigues, but without our kevlar or our longarms; just our pistols.
We were having drinks in the lobby bar, we were there to meet two people. The two other lads in our squad were across the lobby, keeping their eyes peeled. I watched the activity in the street, this time tomorrow it'd all be gone. Cars. People. Gone. This could even be the last sunset I would ever see. I shifted on the barstool as someone walked too close to me. I turned to track him with my eyes and a beautiful arab woman walked into my view. She was wearing a black skirt and white shirt, black pantyhose with black high-heels, her long hair flowing over her shoulders.
I realised this was my contact and got up to greet her. We shook hands and exchanged names. I don't recall hers. The man that had come too close did a discreet lap of the lobby and returned. As squad leader it was my duty to organise things. The Colonel outranked me but had joined the squad late. She was our contact in the local community. The locals in this suburb would help us. We had come ahead to help them.
We were here to organise the resistance. In two hours the MEC forces would be here to take the city. In two hours the USMC would be here to do the same. The battle for the city wouldn't happen until first light tomorrow, but what was happening now was just as important. Mashtuur would be a pivotal centre for whichever side won it. Logistics. Stockpiling. Airmobility. Repair. Medical. Vital. We needed to secure places to rapid drop airmobile artillery and C&C assets.
The four of us strode into the street, followed by our two squadmates. The traffic was gone and only pedestrians were about. The sun was down, the violet glow off the clouds casting an eerie light. In the distance, at the other end of the road, we could see locals overturning cars and creating barracades. Our counterparts organising the locals friendly to the opposing side. The Colonel and I had eaten some of the same dirt when we came ashore at Oman a few weeks ago. We had come to know each other well and were used to working with each other.
Our eyes locked and then we started directing the assembling locals through our contacts. Forklifts here, concrete blocks there. LMGs here, here and there. At the other end of the road someone paused to watch as people at our end scurried around preparing defenses. Activity at their end became more frenetic. We directed blocking of alleys and roads with abandoned cars and empty drums, suggesting them be filled with concrete.
I looked at my watch, the only illumination the city lights. Twenty minutes. I called this out to the Colonel. He nodded. Electricity tonight, but probably not tomorrow. Not after the substation had been fought over. I could hear two hummers throttles wide open, roaring down the road from the mountains. If things were going to plan there were two more hummers of troops at the gas station on the ridge. The hummers pulled-up in front of the hotel and the squaddies fanned out defensively around the engineers.
In the distance the sound of heavy lift choppers drifted through the night, their blades cutting the air into slices. Just like the sweep hand on my watch was cutting the time. Counting down to certain confrontation in the heart of the desert. The clouds had vanished into the cold night air. The stars were bright, brighter than I was used to. The choppers grew suddenly louder as they crested the ridge, their dark bulk blotting out the stars.
\\'
That image would make an awesome sig.SoC./Omega wrote:
well when i had a thunderstorm a couple nights ago i kept seeing the USMC Cobra getting struck by lightning in my head after thunder boomed.