Non-dream post coming this evening...
*I can recall exactly two parts from my lengthy and involved dream of last night:
1. I'm working on a screenplay, and for some reason I'm hanging around with the film's director and another screenwriter. After a little while, the director takes me aside, and tells me that the studio has a great idea: they think Tom Cruise is going to be in the movie, but they want to produce a reality television series about Tom Cruise living in my home, and all the hilarious antics that will surely follow. I am opposed to the idea, but I can't think of a good enough way to voice my complaint.
2. I'm sitting in my bed, and I can hear music so loud and clear that it's like it's being played right next to me. Suddenly, an masked intruder bursts into the room with a gun. Being a man of action, I lunge forward and bite down on one of the intruder's fingers so hard I think it's going to come off. But the intruder feels no pain whatsoever. It's not Tom Cruise, by the way.
I think at some point I was in New York, and I'd somehow mistaken a bar for my office, and went to work there by accident, but one of my coworkers (not anyone I work with in real life) had made exactly the same mistake, so it was sort of ok. Strange bunch of dreams.
*Right, so... comics this evening. Weren't the colors in the new Casanova winter fresh?
1. I'm working on a screenplay, and for some reason I'm hanging around with the film's director and another screenwriter. After a little while, the director takes me aside, and tells me that the studio has a great idea: they think Tom Cruise is going to be in the movie, but they want to produce a reality television series about Tom Cruise living in my home, and all the hilarious antics that will surely follow. I am opposed to the idea, but I can't think of a good enough way to voice my complaint.
2. I'm sitting in my bed, and I can hear music so loud and clear that it's like it's being played right next to me. Suddenly, an masked intruder bursts into the room with a gun. Being a man of action, I lunge forward and bite down on one of the intruder's fingers so hard I think it's going to come off. But the intruder feels no pain whatsoever. It's not Tom Cruise, by the way.
I think at some point I was in New York, and I'd somehow mistaken a bar for my office, and went to work there by accident, but one of my coworkers (not anyone I work with in real life) had made exactly the same mistake, so it was sort of ok. Strange bunch of dreams.
*Right, so... comics this evening. Weren't the colors in the new Casanova winter fresh?
posted by Jog at 11:59 PM
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