Now THATS what I call a dream. There was this guy who was supposedly my brother, but who looked a lot like Barack Obama, and he was drunk and trying to steal my car. There was this long, long fabric thing hanging out of the car and I grabbed it and the car got spun around some flimsy poles and sort of crashed and my brother Obama was ejected from the car and while he was not seriously injured his pants were pretty destroyed and mostly ripped off him. He angrily ordered me to go get him some pants. I had to go a few blocks away to what seemed like my parents place except it was some kind of upstairs apartment, like the one in Pieces of April but nicer. There was some kind of Christmas or birthday party and it was crowded with relatives and the food was just about to be served and I was kind of pissed I couldnt just stay and eat. I went to my room and grabbed a nicer pair of cargo shorts, wanting to give my brother Obama options, then I had to go to this room that was like a huge closet to get some pants. There was this long clothesline stretched diagonally across the room, which was so full of boxes one could hardly walk in it, and the clothesline was so packed with clothing on hangers it was hard to find or extricate anything and in fact it had pulled off the wall at the left end and was lying on the boxes. All this was taking so long i was worried my drunk brother Obama must be getting very impatient and who knew what he might do? Maybe my wrecked car could still be driven... I needed to try to hurry back. And then I woke up, groggy and surprised at how long Id slept.
Posted on: Sat, 13 Sep 2014 14:17:55 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015