Thursday, January 19, 2006
Violent, But Satisfying Fantasy
A couple of nights ago, I was watching "American Idol" with Laura. Some aspects of the show bothered me and my subconsious was good enough to right some of the wrongs as I slept.
That night, I had a dream that I was somehow cast on a reality show (not Idol). I figured that since I was basically going to be prodded and poked till I fit into whatever archetype the casting people had given me, that I would fuck with em'. Every time I opened my mouth I would be very articulate or just smile like a dope. Soon enough I was asked to leave and as I left the host of the show (Seacrest) said something to me that just didn't sit well as I left. I looked back at him and something about my stare spooked him, probably since I had been doing all that smiling, and he started to walk fast and then run in the opposite direction. I watched him run for a second, thought about chasing him, then though better of it, THEN though way better of it and started booking it like a motherfucker after him. I was running behind him and he was looking back and pumping his legs like a crazy person. I chased the smiley sonofabitch for about a quarter mile before he keeled over wheezing, looked as me then started blubbering for me not to hurt him. I think I either hit him once or made as if to hit him and he collapsed on the ground and pissed himself.
"Try not to get a hard-on." (from pissing himself. Dude, it totally made sense) I said, and walked off.
Now tell me, folks, what the hell was that all about?