I once had a dream in which The Best Friend was a complete jerk to me. I woke up angry at him and treated him thusly by shooting him dirty looks and making him suffer through the silent treatment. Bewildered by my simmering rage, he asked what was wrong and I told him.
"You've been mad at me all day about that?! That's insane! I have no control over your dreams!"
"Whatever, dude," I said countering with an obviously brilliant argument. "You were an asshole."
"You're being an asshole now! And we're both awake!"
Damn him and his use of logic.
Anyway, the situation resolved itself relatively quickly and everything went back to normal.
Two nights ago, I had a dream about Ron Livingston.
I'll take things I'd hit like a bag of hammers for $800, Alex....
Usually, I'm a big fan of these dreams for obvious reasons but this last one? Yeah, not so much. Dream Livingston was such a jerk! He spilled hot coffee on me and basically acted like a frat boy, the morning after.
I woke up and told Dan about this. Usually when I tell Dan about these dreams, his eyes narrow, his hand balls up into a fist and he shakes it at the sky while yelling, "Damn you, Livingston!" but this time, he burst out in raucous, gleeful laughter.
Yet another reason I'm glad I'll never meet the guy. 'Cause if I do, I'll be the asshole who blurts out, "Man, you were such a dick in my dream!"
In news that detracts from the fact that I am utterly unhinged:
Top Chef's fifth season premiered last night. As par for the course, it's still a little too early to tell who the fan favorites will be but I'm guessing Richard's a pretty strong contender. I can respect anyone who discloses a crush on Tom Colicchio.
As for the other cheftestants, they seem fairly interesting but I can't see anyone bringing the drama like Marcel and Ilan did in season two.
Ilan: You know what's really funny, Marcel? The first day I got here, I've been wanting to smack you across the face. Why don't you fucking go to a new school, learn some shit, go to France, go to Spain, go travel, go relax, go learn how to use some fucking salt, paprika, come back to me, you know, come to New York, maybe I'll show you how to cook a little bit? I'll show you how to grill something. But until then, shut the fuck up, keep making your foams and go cry in a corner!
Cooking is serious business, y'all.
"You've been mad at me all day about that?! That's insane! I have no control over your dreams!"
"Whatever, dude," I said countering with an obviously brilliant argument. "You were an asshole."
"You're being an asshole now! And we're both awake!"
Damn him and his use of logic.
Anyway, the situation resolved itself relatively quickly and everything went back to normal.
Two nights ago, I had a dream about Ron Livingston.
I'll take things I'd hit like a bag of hammers for $800, Alex....
Usually, I'm a big fan of these dreams for obvious reasons but this last one? Yeah, not so much. Dream Livingston was such a jerk! He spilled hot coffee on me and basically acted like a frat boy, the morning after.
I woke up and told Dan about this. Usually when I tell Dan about these dreams, his eyes narrow, his hand balls up into a fist and he shakes it at the sky while yelling, "Damn you, Livingston!" but this time, he burst out in raucous, gleeful laughter.
Yet another reason I'm glad I'll never meet the guy. 'Cause if I do, I'll be the asshole who blurts out, "Man, you were such a dick in my dream!"
In news that detracts from the fact that I am utterly unhinged:
Top Chef's fifth season premiered last night. As par for the course, it's still a little too early to tell who the fan favorites will be but I'm guessing Richard's a pretty strong contender. I can respect anyone who discloses a crush on Tom Colicchio.
As for the other cheftestants, they seem fairly interesting but I can't see anyone bringing the drama like Marcel and Ilan did in season two.
Ilan: You know what's really funny, Marcel? The first day I got here, I've been wanting to smack you across the face. Why don't you fucking go to a new school, learn some shit, go to France, go to Spain, go travel, go relax, go learn how to use some fucking salt, paprika, come back to me, you know, come to New York, maybe I'll show you how to cook a little bit? I'll show you how to grill something. But until then, shut the fuck up, keep making your foams and go cry in a corner!
Cooking is serious business, y'all.
1 comments on "I am not responsible for Dream Feeny!"
I LOVE Top Chef. Steve and I watched it last night also. It makes me feel really lame in the kitchen though. I made open-faced Turkey sandwiches for dinner today - how's that for culinary expertise? :)
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