The Death of Innocence
Normally I don't do this, but I just have to tell you about my dream last night. It all started with this country crooner wearing a purple shirt with white lasso designs on the shoulders and a big white hat. He was holding a guitar and strumming a song while singing along.
As he sang, all sorts of weirdness occurred. The Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders were dancing around. A hot little blonde farm girl was picking chicken sandwiches off a sandwich tree and holding them out in my direction. Among the giant tomatoes that served as the backdrop to my acid induced dream were too Pippy Long Stocking looking chicks that were all hopping around like some outcasts from a bad rendition of West Side Story.
It was about that time that I realized the cowboy currently serenading me with a lovely tune about chicken sandwiches was black. In fact, he was not only black, but he was Hootie, you know, of Blowfish fame.
As he concluded his song, a cloud appeared. At the top stood what appeared to be God, but as I drew closer I realized it was the Burger King... What? The fucking Burger King? Wait just a damn minute. This isn't a dream at all. It's some crappy TV commercial. Just what the hell is Hootie doing singing about bacon cheddar ranch chicken sandwiches? Oh dear lord, have the Blowfish sunk so low?
I will remember this day as the day I lost what little respect I had left for the world.
Have fun,
j
3 people think they have something witty to say about this entry.
