I had a dream last night and it fit me like a glove. Yeah, rock out, whatever.
Not really (but the Butthole Surfers did). Last night I had a dream and it had elements of a date I had, the book I'm reading, a tv show I watched, and a soundtrack I listened to:
I bought a shiny silver BMW motorcycle in Malibu on a gorgeous, sunny afternoon and went cruising down PCH wearing sexy black leathers, no helmet.
Suddenly it was night and I was speeding through city streets, rushing because I was late to pick up my date, Denis Leary.
I pulled up to his place and he was waiting on the stoop, smoking and drinking Bushmills right out of the bottle.
He stood up to greet me, but suddenly there were flashing lights and a siren. A cop jumped out of an Oakland PD patrol car, yelling at me in Thai. I understood him, and immediately gave him a big smile and flipped my hair. I thought I could charm him or at least offer him a bribe.
The cop leered at me and cackled while handing me a ticket for going 60 miles over the speed limit in a construction zone. I was confused about the amount because it was baht, not dollars.
(That's it. Sigh.)