I nearly forgot that I had a rather, uh, intimate dream last night. It involved this guy.
Reading a book of his essays? Fine.
Waking up from a dream in which you're both running around a lake and he leans in to wipe an eye booger off your face and goes for a smooch and then other stuff happens? NOT SO FINE.
Now that is sexy. When you have a dream where Scar-Jo cuts Jeremy Piven's head off and then proposes to you, let me know. Then your fucked-upitude will match mine. (though it should be said that you could do a lot worse than Mr. Chuck K.)
ReplyDeleteYeah. Although, side note, I do apparently aspire to dress like Mr. Chuck K., what with my love of sweaters and untucked dress shirts and sneaks.
ReplyDeleteid I ever tell you that last year I used to show up at the marketing firm wearing basically the same outfit as my male thirty-something coworker? And who was I to complain, having purchased my sweaters from the men's side of the store?
You guys remember my David Spade dream, right?
ReplyDeleteYeah. I win.
Ooh! Long-haired Spade? Or Classic Spade?
ReplyDeleteUhhh... I don't remember, actually.
ReplyDeleteI think it's equally messed up either way, no?