Monday, March 2, 2009
I never turn down a request for a blog post. Never.
One of my lifelong readers pointed out to me that I hadn't updated this in a while. I laugh at her sometimes when I see her body in the deep freeze. However, she made a good point, the world hasn't been too "Dirty" or "Hairy" recently, so I thought I would recount my latest dream, "Angelina Jolie and the Iowa Hillbillies":
There isn't much to this dream, but for those who enjoy a bit of schadenfreude, you can mock me as my mind torments and abuses me during this dream.
The scenario is that a family member of mine ends up marrying a family member of Brad Pitt's (a cousin's sister's brother sort of deal). Well, Brad, being the awesome guy he is, decides to come to Iowa and throw us a party! Rad!
So, we were to wait for them at a house they were renting. They explicitly instructed us to leave the lights off to avoid detection by paparazzi. (Dor sho gha!) In stark contrast to the warning, two gigantic Escalade limos pull up and he and Angelina Jolie get out and come in the house.
I am sitting in an easy chair with my wife directly across from me on the sofa. When Brad and Angelina come in, Brad takes his time introducing himself and mingling, but Angelina walks straight over behind my chair, leans over and starts whispering to me, "Ooo, I am glad there is someone that likes to have fun here!" She proceeds to start seductively rubbing my ears (much akin to Ferengi Oo-Mox). The whole time she is also whispering these little things to me about how much she likes me and can't wait to ditch the losers.
So, anyway, oddly enough my wife seems oblivious to this. Furthermore, Angelina sort of nods at Brad at some point and I look over at him. He winks and nods at me and Angelina starts giggling (in my dream, I interpreted this as his "ok" to bang her).
All of the sudden Brad claps his hands loudly and yells, "OK, gang! Time to go! Get in the limos!" Angelina leads me to one of the limos and gets in front. As I go to get in the back, it is filled wall to wall with Brad's new "extended family" (which should technically be my extended family, but wasn't). It was knuckle dragging, chaw spittin', McCain votin' hicks as far as the eye could see. I had to cram myself in back with some of the farm folk, and all of them started asking me questions about religions and politics. (Hey, where the fuck did Angelina Jolie seducing me go?!?!?!)
Fortunately the drive is short, and we end up at some kind of exclusive Hollywood club with rich snobs everywhere. My arrival was like the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. Angelina was loooong gone by this point (curse you, subconscious mind!), and I was essentially abandoned alone at this glitzy club filled with posers. Maybe my mind can cook me up a machine gun to take furious vengeance upon these assclowns? No, I sit alone at the bar until the place closes, the end.
What a fucking blue-ballin' dream!