This is a dream I had. Verbatim. None of it can be accepted as truth or fact.
Two friends, sitting on a couch. They are Beef and Wexley. It is Beef's house and couch. His girlfriend has dropped her androgeynous son off. He is sitting in a nearby easy chair. They are in a wood-panaled den. There is random mechanical and wood crap piled up all around the room. They are watching a TV that magically knows exactly what the conversation is about and shows the necesary visual cues. I have no idea how this happened. I was begining to wake up, and this came to me...
"Hey Beef, who's the kid?" Wexly asks, putting his foot up on the table.
"Girlfriend's son," Beef says, then turns to the kid. "Didn't she take you to get a haircut?"
The boy nods and says, "Of course. I got Farrah hair."
Wexley laughs at the boys boast. Beef looks at him.
"Laugh all you want, Wexley, the kid's an actor. He needs to be genderless," Beef says.
"Yeah," the kid says, "Whenever I wear girlish clothes or girlish haircuts or coyishly curl up with old rich white men I get rewarded in the traditional way, just like Woody Harrelson."
Both men look at the young person, who then amends, "With long term contracts."
The screen now shows a Time Magazine cover with Woody stepping out of a personal jet wearing a white tuxedo and a baseball cap. The headline reads "Magic Water Heals Gifted Tomato" for some inexplicable reason. Woody is waving to somebody.
The screen then changes to show a stern looking older woman standing behind a podium with a blue fringe hanging from it. The banner behind her reads "Julia Stells for Disctrict Representative".
Beef turns to Wexley and asks, "Hey, have you thought about your campaign speech yet?"
Wexley shakes his head and responds, "No... I've been thinking about maybe just having my aunt write it."
Beef nods and then says, "Really. Huh. I heard that it was going to be recited from a flying US Navy Gunship telling three hundred mostly untrue stories with it's cannons, none of which contain the letter E, and if you combine them it's the password to the ancient tomb under the senate building that holds Jimmy Hoffa, except that when you open it it has a piece of the Roswell spaceship because Hoffa was an alien because Humans aren't smart enough to come up with organized labor unions."
Wexley nods, watching the still image of the old woman on the TV and responds, "Where'd you hear that?"
Beef stares at the picture and shrugs. "It's going around," he says.
The boy rolls off the back of his chair. The dream ends, and I come here and post it.
-Wow. I really only remembered the "300 mostly untrue stories, none of which contain the letter E" part, then the rest just came back to me throughout the day.
Two friends, sitting on a couch. They are Beef and Wexley. It is Beef's house and couch. His girlfriend has dropped her androgeynous son off. He is sitting in a nearby easy chair. They are in a wood-panaled den. There is random mechanical and wood crap piled up all around the room. They are watching a TV that magically knows exactly what the conversation is about and shows the necesary visual cues. I have no idea how this happened. I was begining to wake up, and this came to me...
"Hey Beef, who's the kid?" Wexly asks, putting his foot up on the table.
"Girlfriend's son," Beef says, then turns to the kid. "Didn't she take you to get a haircut?"
The boy nods and says, "Of course. I got Farrah hair."
Wexley laughs at the boys boast. Beef looks at him.
"Laugh all you want, Wexley, the kid's an actor. He needs to be genderless," Beef says.
"Yeah," the kid says, "Whenever I wear girlish clothes or girlish haircuts or coyishly curl up with old rich white men I get rewarded in the traditional way, just like Woody Harrelson."
Both men look at the young person, who then amends, "With long term contracts."
The screen now shows a Time Magazine cover with Woody stepping out of a personal jet wearing a white tuxedo and a baseball cap. The headline reads "Magic Water Heals Gifted Tomato" for some inexplicable reason. Woody is waving to somebody.
The screen then changes to show a stern looking older woman standing behind a podium with a blue fringe hanging from it. The banner behind her reads "Julia Stells for Disctrict Representative".
Beef turns to Wexley and asks, "Hey, have you thought about your campaign speech yet?"
Wexley shakes his head and responds, "No... I've been thinking about maybe just having my aunt write it."
Beef nods and then says, "Really. Huh. I heard that it was going to be recited from a flying US Navy Gunship telling three hundred mostly untrue stories with it's cannons, none of which contain the letter E, and if you combine them it's the password to the ancient tomb under the senate building that holds Jimmy Hoffa, except that when you open it it has a piece of the Roswell spaceship because Hoffa was an alien because Humans aren't smart enough to come up with organized labor unions."
Wexley nods, watching the still image of the old woman on the TV and responds, "Where'd you hear that?"
Beef stares at the picture and shrugs. "It's going around," he says.
The boy rolls off the back of his chair. The dream ends, and I come here and post it.
-Wow. I really only remembered the "300 mostly untrue stories, none of which contain the letter E" part, then the rest just came back to me throughout the day.