I was laying in bed with Brad Pitt in my dream last night. You see, I was in the bed because he and Angelina Jolie offered for me to sleep on the fourth floor spiral staircase tower but when I got up there it was only barstools and totally windy I was afraid of heights, so the only other place for me was in the bed next to Brad Pitt, obviously. We were only looking at a photo of him and a bunch of kids lined up on some 1970's basement stairs. In the back, there was a framed picture that said, Minnesota. I was hilarious when I said *out of the side of my mouth, in 1930s-newspaper-worker-accent and with hand up like a mock Vlassic pickle*, "Minnesota? I'm pretty sure I've been in that basement." He laughed.
Angelina Jolie came in the room and jumped to an incorrect conclusion. She was wearing a very strange outfit. When I saw it, I quipped *out of the side of my mouth, in 1930s-newspaper-worker-accent and with hand up like a mock Vlassic pickle*, "Wow, that outfit is like equal parts Rosie the Riveter, G.I. Joe, and Pippi Longstocking." Then she dramatically loaded a double barrel shotgun -- the kind you bend in half to put the shells in -- and I begged her not to shoot me but she did anyway. Right in the shoulder and even in the dream it hurt real bad.
I started to sort of scream and make weird noises, and then I decided that was embarrassing and cut it out. As I was bleeding to death, I asked them if they didn't mind if I called my mom. I called her, dying, laughing about how I was totally calling from BRAD and ANGELINA's cell phone. I told her I was probably dying but still cracking jokes about ending up in some gossip magazine like the Star Trib (even in my dream I realized this was in error) in a weird love triangle that didn't exist.
Then Angelina Jolie ran outside like a crazy person and threw the shotgun in the snow. I looked at Brad and said, *out of the side of my mouth, in 1930s-newspaper-worker-accent and with hand up like a mock Vlassic pickle* "that's a really bad idea", and we laughed.
|"Kady, you are hiLARious in your dreams."|
My reaction: "she called her mom when she was dying instead of me?"
Wow! That's quite the dream...
I had this same dream except Angelina's leg shot me.
Is your 1930's accent like Groucho Marx with with a cigar? And I keep looking for the footnote when you use those *'s. If there was a 'like' button, I would 'like' what dbs said. And you and Hobo Siren, of course.
Hobo Siren you usually make an appearance...I guess I wanted this dream to myself.
Chris, there's so few ways to gesture while I'm typing my stories. The * is just sort of a clue that my hands would be doing something if I were telling you in person.
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