I had a nightmare once than it was a dream... Matt Dillon was there dressed up as an MEC, ugh, I don't even wanna talk about it though
Every dream I have is related to BF2.
sometimes when i play a lot in one day, I'm at work at night and i hear: I need a medic; we need support do you copy?; Go Go Go; we're losing this battle start fighting or ill find someone who can.
loool so yea
loool so yea
hahaAardcore wrote:
I had a nightmare once than it was a dream... Matt Dillon was there dressed up as an MEC, ugh, I don't even wanna talk about it though
I've dreamt about BF some times. The one time I remember the best was that I was by a flag in something that looked like the tv house. I only had the pistol left and it was our last flag so I were there defending the flag. The my project manager from work came in and looked me in the eyes and said "sorry" and had a really seroius look. Then the bastard shot me, but I only got damaged so I shot him back. Then I woke up and thought "that was one twisted dream"
Edit: No, I don't hate my project manager and I don't have anything against him. Dreams can be really strange.
Last edited by MrBrain (2006-08-23 21:41:00)
I dream often with enemy artillery killing me, and these dreams end up being nightmares: all night long listening "Artillery, your area" until I wake up. Then I need to play again.
Semper Fi!
Semper Fi!
I was sleeping in the wee hours of the morning and my little brother was on my computer playing BF2. I was kinda sleeping and kinda concious. well, I would hear the game and I was dreaming I was in it. I was an Assualt Infrantry on Karkand. The dream didn't last long I woke up a couple of minuets later.
usmarine2005 wrote:
You guys need mental help.
Yo guys,
I must confess that 1 time I had a dream about BF2. I had e terrible fever and went to bed, trying to sleep it of. As soon as I fell asleep I found myself running around in Karkand. Still feeling pretty f*cked up. So I decided to request a medic. Nobody replied so I started running around like mad in search of the medic. Sadly the only thing I came across was them SUPPLY WHORES...........
Man, isnt it hard to find a medic when you need one?
PeaCe
I must confess that 1 time I had a dream about BF2. I had e terrible fever and went to bed, trying to sleep it of. As soon as I fell asleep I found myself running around in Karkand. Still feeling pretty f*cked up. So I decided to request a medic. Nobody replied so I started running around like mad in search of the medic. Sadly the only thing I came across was them SUPPLY WHORES...........
Man, isnt it hard to find a medic when you need one?
PeaCe
Not only that, the medics you can find are stupid noobs who run away with the medic bag in their hands...OXTHAFOX wrote:
Man, isnt it hard to find a medic when you need one?
And I've never had a dream about BF2.
♥
Every day driving to work I have to go past a construction site that has a crane that is identical to the ones in BF2. No matter how much I try not to, I always check the ladder and then the deck for snipers. I can't help it!.
One day soon I'm going to crash there.
and yes, i've had dreams about bf2...I win in them.
One day soon I'm going to crash there.
and yes, i've had dreams about bf2...I win in them.
I can't say it was directly connected to bf2 ...... eeeh yes it prolly was.
I had a dream where I was in a civilian type armed training camp and we had a practice session with another squad. Kinda strange because we were using live rounds. I was sniping from inside a large factory type building. I was making some sweet shots and realized after a few minutes something was wrong since everyone was supposed to be just training.
Funnier yet, after the practice we all sat down and ate tuna sandwiches for lunch.
Then I forget if anything else happened. All I remember is my wife picking me up in the evening. The sun was low in the sky and I remember the awesome sunset on the ride home. I have very vivid dreams. Lucid ones too... very cool.
Strange stuff.
I had a dream where I was in a civilian type armed training camp and we had a practice session with another squad. Kinda strange because we were using live rounds. I was sniping from inside a large factory type building. I was making some sweet shots and realized after a few minutes something was wrong since everyone was supposed to be just training.
Funnier yet, after the practice we all sat down and ate tuna sandwiches for lunch.
Then I forget if anything else happened. All I remember is my wife picking me up in the evening. The sun was low in the sky and I remember the awesome sunset on the ride home. I have very vivid dreams. Lucid ones too... very cool.
Strange stuff.
i have wet dreams about BF2
LOL Sometimes I have wet dreams of you having wet dreams about bf2.......stryyker wrote:
i have wet dreams about BF2
eeeewwe!!!! hahaha
Normal.stryyker wrote:
i have wet dreams about BF2
If you don't have wet dreams about BF2 then you're a n00b.
Of couse you do, all of the hardcore gamers do! I think... maybe.........possibly.....Oh well, at least I'm not the only one! lolstryyker wrote:
i have wet dreams about BF2
Yeah i dream about almost any game i play.
You wouldn't need to rush where I live... 24 hour off licence round the corner... and for large amounts 24 hour alcohol delivery services...cdogmn55428 wrote:
guys wanne hear something funny??1 nite i was rushing to catch the lq store be 4 it closed, i was driving my car like i was driving in bf2,thought i could hit the curb/corner like a hummve,, lol, lost a hub cap,,hehehe 2 much beer&bf2,lol
side note: GP-30's are the most humane way to deal with drunk drivers....
mine wasnt just a dream
it was a friging vision
i was dreaming that i'd wake up
and own the living hell outa people
the next day i did wake up
and own the living hell outa people on karkand ..
it was the first time i ever used knives, pistols and bunny hoping..
got a final score of 70 8 or sumthing.. pure inf no tanks no vehics..
thats why... when i have a bad dream about bf2..
i dont play the next day
it was a friging vision
i was dreaming that i'd wake up
and own the living hell outa people
the next day i did wake up
and own the living hell outa people on karkand ..
it was the first time i ever used knives, pistols and bunny hoping..
got a final score of 70 8 or sumthing.. pure inf no tanks no vehics..
thats why... when i have a bad dream about bf2..
i dont play the next day
Last night I saw a dream where three of my classmates were in a vodnik and somebody C4'd it
!!!!!!!!!!!!!you All Fail And Need To See A Psychiatrist!!!!!!!!!
JaMrulezass wrote:
!!!!!!!!!!!!!you All Fail And Need To See A Psychiatrist!!!!!!!!!
I need around tree fiddy.
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.
\\'
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.
\\'
i only dream about hot girls =p
I like to fly and I always dream of flying in the F-15 with my Girlfriend
You are such a sad person - you actually play BF2 for 6+ hours. If my moral sense doesn't stop me from playing BF2, the game will bore me and I will quit. But seriously...6+ hours????