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To sleep perchance to dream…

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I woke up today feeling not so jealous – it could have something to do with my recurring Mel Gibson dream. The setting changes often, but the plot is basically the same: I’m screwing Mel Gibson. There’s no sex in the dream, but I just know that he and I are in a sexual relationship. Most recently I was his personal assistant and we had to keep it all very seccy-seccy-hush-hush while we organized a dinner for the recipients of the Golden Globe – except the Golden Globe turned out to be a wooden place card holder and my name was misspelled.

Thing is, I’m not a Mel fan, even before he got drunk and showed that the apple didn’t fall far from the noxious tree. I enjoyed his films, but I never got the whole MEL GIBSON thing. This subconscious devotion to a man who blames jews for things like the sinking of Titanic is troubling. I miss the days when my recurring night visitor was George Clooney and he and I would take a road trip specifically to have sex. No strings, just friends with benefits. That was a good one. Plus he drove a nice car and I was all kinds of stylish in my Grace Kelly dream self.

My dreams are somewhat legend in our family, because 1) I’m awesome and everything I do is legend and 2)they’re usually very funny. But the funniest dream I’ve ever heard comes from my husband.  Jack once dreamed that he had an eraser for hair and was going around erasing people. Piss him off and he’d start rubbing you with his head – which sounds way dirtier than was intended.


Where was I? Oh yes, so while he was erasing you he’d be saying in this Larry the Gourd voice, “I’m erasing yeww!” Thing is, the dream kind of spilled over into his waking moments and I was jerked out of my own tryst with probably the school janitor (I was pregnant and had those horny hormones) by my husband rubbing me with his head (again, dirty! Awesome.) saying, “I’m erasing yewww!!” (“I’m erasing you!” (TM) has been a saying between us since then, along with, “You stop. I’m busy.” But that’s another post for anther time. ) Did I ever have fun telling that story! Over and over and over.  “Have you met my husband the human eraser? Careful not to make him angry. You wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”

So anyway, back to my subconscious obsession with Mel. I’m thinking this latest round of Mel has something to do with Amelia’s fondness for the movie Signs. I’m guessing I find something attractive about the character he portrays, maybe the devotion to his family. That’s all well and good, but why couldn’t my subconscious fixate on Uncle Merril as brilliantly portrayed by the sex-ay Joaquin Phoenix (and that’s a shout out to the person who googled “Is Joaquin Phoenix ticklish” and got to my blog last week. I wish I knew… I wish I knew….).


About Sassy

Absolutely average in every way.

One response »

  1. Sometimes I dream about Chad Everett


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