Monthly Archive for July, 2006

Uma Thurman?

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The dream begins where I’m riding a bus and I’m making very nice conversation with the cute blonde sitting in front of me. She looks like Jessica Simpson with the face of Reese Witherspoon (I briefly remember what Reese Witherspoon looks like, having watched Just Like Heaven on the bus ride to NYC with AG) , but introduces herself to me as Uma Thurman. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think that name sounds familiar, but I’m unable to make any specific connection. As Uma and I continue to chat about sanskrit texts and the Dharma Initiative (I’ve been wasting waaay too much time playing the Lost Experience), a young man sitting to the right of the bus interrupts us and asks Uma Thurman for an autograph and gushes about how excited he is to meet her and all the typical stuff that fans do. Uma indulges him, but shortly thereafter, she breaks down crying and explains to me how horrible the intrusion of privacy is and how it is eating her alive. She further goes on to say that I’m the only person she’s ever met that doesn’t seem to know who she is or wants anything out of her. Around this point I begin to wonder if she’s some kind of celebrity.

The next thing I know, we’ve arrived at our destination and are in some kind of theatre. Uma and I have apparently become very close in the intervening time, and she tells me that she will be doing some performance and wants me to sing with her and will I pick out a song for us to sing. Now I’m pretty worried here. For one, I’m under the impression that Uma is trained in operatic singing and the musical selections are far too advanced for someone like myself. She seems to think that I not only have the ability to sing, but also am familiar with all of these French songs, seeing as I’m Canadian and all. Every time I think I know a song, I realize that I don’t know a single lyric, and I’m too nervous to sight-read. We bicker about the singing thing for a short while when Uma’s manager or agent checks on the situation and has a freak-out that me, a rank amateur, will be performing with Uma. He tells Uma that her career will be over if I sing in public with her. I’m off the hook!

Tim Allen and Drew Carey

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If this one happened in real life, I’d do it all the same.

I am attending the US Open tennis tournament.  I am with someone, possibly the Nutter, maybe the Random Randroid.  It is unclear.  It certainly is not fulsome, thus akin to real life as he is never around.  These details are not important to the dream itself, just a little insider information for the sticklers.  Everywhere  around the stadium, instead of the normal advertising signs, there are photos of Tim Allen.  Just his smiling portrait, no labeling, nothing.  It is creepy a la Third World Dictator or possibly Jeb Bush’s guest bedroom bathroom. It somehow became apparent in the dream that the Allen images were an ad campaign for his comeback sitcom. 

 

For the first part of the dream we are sitting pretty high up in Arthur Ashe stadium and the stadium is full but quiet, later the stadium is empty, but we are still up top (I’ll never get good seats I guess).  Then Drew Carey shows up, apparently he is producing and co-starring in the Tim Allen sitcom.  He is excited to tell us what it is all about.  He starts in by saying it is about how hard it is to be a conservative in Hollywood.  At this point, with every word he tries to get out of his mouth, I make a walrus or seal noise really loudly.  

 

Drew Carey: “No you see, it’s…”

 

Pinko: “MWEEEAAAAAAAAAEERHRH”

 

Drew Carey: “It’s actually pretty fu-“

 

Pinko: “BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART”

 

Drew Carey: “I think you-“

 

Pinko: “GLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOB”

 

Drew Carey: “Please just wat-“

 

Pinko: BLURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP”

 

It just kept going like that. I wish I could have done that to him for reals.  I don’t know why.  He was being annoying and the show sounded pretty dumb.  Kind of like something that Pajamas Media might exec-produce.  I can’t wait for the show about Instapundit.  I mean Emeril and Tony Kornheiser…