Bridget Fonda is a spy. She brings two hazmat boxes to my Georgian-style apartment.
In the boxes are debris and mail-reply cards. Under the mail reply cards in one, is a mini goonie bird in a little doll bed looking up at me.
Bridget says, “Guard this goonie bird with your life!”
I don’t like it because it’s freakish and my life is rough enough.
I say okay but I’m very disturbed.
There are chandelier and mirrors everywhere and I see myself as a fear silhouette instead of a person with a reflection.
When she leaves, I leave, and leave the goonie bird. I’m running down a curvy sidewalk around the house and this guy is running in front of me in an ugly brown suit and he has a big butt, and he wants me to go drink 100 beers with him in the backseat of his gold cadillac.
This boy I had a crush on in school from the fourth grade to the twelfth grade, who has a last name that means “horse’s ass” in Latin, if flirting with me. His got some weight on him finally and he says, “I’ve got a nice body, don’t I? You remember me, you know that time at the gas pumps when you were paranoid that I would hear you arguing with your loverboy over the microphones and go tell your husband?” (which actually happened) “And I never told on you,” he said.
“Virtue is it’s own reward,” I say.
“That’s bullshit, let’s fuck,” he says.
Then I’m back at the Georgian apartment, and Jonny comes by, we SLEEP on a counter together and I’ve put a pillow in the sink to smooth it out like a bed. It is hot and uncomfortable. A bug crawls on his back and we turn on the lights, the bug is in the shape of a sunflower seed. It walks down the door and up the ceiling.
Then we’re back at the Georgian apartment. I tell him, “You have to see this goonie bird, it’s like on Horton hears a Who,” only I said Ho. This was the night after I was in the johndoe chat room talking about ho biscuits.
We go into the apartment and Bridget is there to trap us. Jonny says he’s leaving and I assume he’s going to steal that guy’s gold cadillac, but he walks home. Since he lives 3000 miles away I know he’s still on the road and when I realize the cadillac is still parked outside, I go after him.
But, he’s out laying in the fountain. An old man comes and runs him off before I can yell to him.
I look at the cadillac and my purple bathrobe is in the front seat. It is sunny out now.
Then like a movie screen, everything goes dark and in front of me are words in white Georgian fonts. They say: Write something early because Randy Quaid thought he was the first to go to Hong Kong,”. Now this is a reference to this book I was reading, God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, and she talks about a hair band called a Love-In-Tokyo, which I hadn’t heard before. And I was reading an article about her the other day about how she writes her books in a bunch of scenes and then sews them up together, and I thought, I could do that on my web page so people can see it take some form.
What this dream means to me:
I tell too many secrets on the net.
I need to get rid of my fat butt
I need to finish all my things I write
I need to get serious
because, Randy Quaid looks like my dad and my dad squandered his talent and now is old and sorry.
This dream is telling me I’m a lazy, non-serious horse’s ass and if I send my books out I can live in a mansion, because right now I’m not taking my talent seriously.
So after I wrote this dream down and interpreted it, I get up to pee and as I’m walking in there, this sunflower seed-shaped water bug is on the ceiling, and I know that’s my signal that I’ve got the interpretation right. So my goal today, is to stop being a horse’s ass.
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