You’re standing in her room. She’s gorgeous. Her long black her laying over her shoulders resting effortless on a vintage looking Misfits t-shirt (of course from when Glenn Danzig was still in the band) with cut off sleeves. Skin tight black jeans perfectly detail what torn material attempts to hide underneath. She takes her pale fingers and removes well worn black Chuck Taylor high tops. Then she slow removes her shirt which now displays a full print La Dispute art from a recent tour of the east coast. It slides like like velvet across her stomach slowly working up her torso, up to her bosom. The shirt hits the floor with sound of butterflies leaving a just bloomed flower. Finally she moves across the room towards you. You find yourself sitting on a chair that seems to swallow your every member. Warmth spreads from your feet to your chest. The girl leans in, coming closer to your face as her hands slide up from your hands to farther up your arms. Clutching the chair that seems to feel more like a comforting blanket in your grips. You know this can’t be possible. You don’t know how you know, but you know she likes all the same things you do and she doesn’t give you a hard time about your hobbies. Her lips open and so do yours. You feel hot, sweat beads up on your forehead. Pushing down the chair reveals its contents are more like a bed and the arm of the chair you were gripping now a handfuls of blankets. Slight confusion as you try to focus on the beautiful lady who is now inches away from your face. It all grows fuzzy as you try desperately to hold onto the image of her. She’s everything you want, everything you think you deserve. She’s gone and you’re not alone in you bed. There is a pressure and a warmth on your chest. A cat sits atop of you squinting as he purrs into your face. He loves you.
The cat fades from reality and you back into another fantasy. Determined to stay asleep this time until the sun reaches midway in the sky. Because on this day you have nothing to do. Hoping you fall back to where you were and you can continue into the arms of the one you left. Slowly drifting back into a lucid dream, replaying the lady as she was. It’s dark though. You feel like you are in that same chair but things seem different. As the room comes into view you know things aren’t as they were. The window across the room is open and the drapes dance in the wind seemingly alive. Whipping and grasping at the bed sheets now strewn across the floor. The mattress lays crippled in the corner next to an over turned t.v. which displays a white and grey fuzz to the floor. To the right you is a door which leads to a bathroom. The glow from the t.v. cast a dim light on what could only be then hand and part of an exposed arm from the pale woman you had witnessed from before. It lays on the floor lifeless while the wall and part of the door cover the rest of what you can only assume as the rest of her body. Peeling yourself from the chair, you learn that you are more likely to glide than to walk through the open door. Making your way to the bathroom you hear sloshing as her fingers twitch. Cautiously moving towards the door as the sounds becomes much clearer to determine. Peering around the edge of the door with one eye solidifies your fears. On the floor is the woman, blood drenched and gurgling. What appears to be a man is digging inside of her intestines and shoving them into his mouth as fast as possible. Blood spatters across the walls and ceiling and has oozed across the floor. Fear stricken, yours eyes don’t leave the man. Warmth and wetness of the blood wraps around your toes and causes you to tumble towards the door. Gripping the door to keep from sprawling over what’s left of the woman, alerts the man of your presence. His head whips up from the body and stares right at you. Dark black holes for what should be eyes and rows of sharp teeth line the inside of his mouth. He lets out a howl which turns into a shriek and is answered from what sounds to be nearby rooms in the building you are in now. Scrambling to keep your balance as the man leaps from the floor towards you. Quickly looking around divulges there is no other door and the only possible exit is the window with the drapes that seem to beckon you out. The man fumbles as he leaps from blood and organs which coat the floor of the bathroom, giving you enough time to make your way towards the window. Half gliding and half running means you’re at the window in moments. The momentum carries you through it and outside. Tumbling out which was clearly a terrible idea because the room you have just left is at least twenty stories from the parking lot below. Head first into the night sky you begin to rotate and see the window you have just fallen through. The creature that was just feasting on your young love is now preparing to make his descent and at least five other windows filled with similar beings also making preparations towards you. Either way you’re fucked. If hitting the ground doesn’t kill you then the creatures perusing you mostly certainly will. Sweat rolls of your head, your hands are clammy from the thought of being torn apart. The fall seems forever. Trying desperately to gain some sort of balance. You can’t and you lunge forward. Eyes open and you are back in your room. The cat stands on the floor next to your bed looking rather irritated and the covers on your bed are soaked in your sweat.
Strange dreams from a poorly planned nights sleep. Arriving home at 5am from a trip into the mountains that consisted of driving much too quickly through a series of roads of back to back hair pins and violent bumps that send you to the wrong side of the road. Followed by five other cars with their own drivers pushing you harder to go faster and at the same time struggling to keep up. Machines used and not hidden away in the garage in hopes of a nice sunny day. Ian’s three six barrels through the turns. Tires contact inner fenders as often as the road, but it doesn’t mean to let up, only to continue uphill under full throttle. An unlikely setup but works inexplicably well. Matte green from a once OE paint gives a slight contrast to the other marginally better condition black panels that clearly don’t belong. There is a story to that. One that is rather short. A similar project was completed with much of the same sheet metal on a different chassis only about a month and half ago. Then with a quick move from third gear into second instead of the intended fourth put a piston all the way up to the top of the head and effectively smashing the spark plug level with the wall , the previous three six turned into a parts car. The new chassis was sourced with a bit of damage to the driver door from opening it into traffic, but with plenty of useful parts from the other car, the green e36 came together quickly.
Forward rake, odd staggered et, sparkle mismatched vinyl, quintessential box stickers, a banner front and rear blowing well past the AS–1 line, one bright red sparco seat, and 195k mileage on the odometer defines a very cult created style. With very little money Ian’s three six puts it down very well uphill or downhill and it is an extension on his personality without a doubt. It’s been rad running with Ian and interesting helping to give this thing some more personality to what he had already created.
Everything looks better with glitter.
The most aggressive portion of the Strange Dreams e36 is the reverse barreled front wheel and the what it took to get proper clearance to make everything work out. Definitely a love or hate scenario for many people.
Here are a few shots from the previous chassis before it was ended too soon.