2:32 a.m. - 2008-04-17
ANDERSON COOPER NEEDS A WINGMAN
I have been seriously neglecting this thing, probably because the two topics that are occupying most of my brain time are also things that I do not wish write about on the internet. So I won't. I will just mysteriously refer to them here so that all readers who know me in real life can call me and say, 'Britt, please, i must know!' and I can be all coy and decline to elaborate and then i will have something to distract me from this weird two-pronged obsessional cycle I am in. I admit, there have been moments when I have been briefly distracted by an actual event, in reality, and I thought 'hey, I should blog about that.' Then I re-fixate. Sadly, this means that most of these thoughts have been forever buried in the sands of time.*
*Fuck, that is a terrible metaphor. Even worse? I realized how bad it was before I wrote it, and then did it anyway, just to be an ass. If my brain is going to throw bullshit like that into my consciousness, then you all are damned well gonna suffer along with me.
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Since I have absolutely no recollection of what I have been doing for the past five days, I am going to write about a recent dream I had.
Setting: Austin, Texas
Characters:
ME
LIL KINKER
ANDERSON COOPER*
Plot:
Kinker*** and I meet up with Andy at a bar. It seems we are all good friends. Have a couple of beers, and then decide to head over to Anderson's place for a toke. Weirdly, Anderson seems to live in a dirty, college boy apartment. You know the type. Rejected barcalounger from parents, used dishes everywhere, beige carpet...Also, there is a homeless(?) woman laying across the door threshold (omitted from cast list because her role is a non-speaking one). Andy acknowledges this, explains she just likes to hang out there. Kinker and I accept the information, step over her, and settle in on the floor. The bong is produced (A tiny, plasticky piece of shit, I might add. Get it together, man!), and the bowl loaded.
As the hits are being taken, a change comes over Mr. Cooper. He is getting bolder, and resettles himself next to Kinker, subtly leaning in and rubbing her arm. Her eyes bulge and she silently mouths to me 'Help!" My mission is clear:
I must cock-block Anderson Cooper.
*That's right. The Silver Fox himself. The Coop. The News Anchor Who Spawned a Thousand Irritating Nicknames, No More of Which I Will Cite Here.**
**Although I will say this. Apparently, he's very big in Japan.
***Note to Kinker: Want this to stop? You know what you have to do.
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Ok, that's pretty much it. I mean the dream continues, and I successfully fend off Andy, but this is where it stops being interesting. However, I would like to say a couple more things:
1) In this dream, when the bong gets passed around, I decline. This is not unusual for me in real life, since I don't like to be stoned with people that I don't know really really well, but seriously. Apparently, I do not even do drugs that have been generated by my subconscious. Nancy Reagan would probably be proud, but, honestly, I just kind of feel like a loser.
2) I am aware that Anderson Cooper is gay. I do not know why he was straight in my dream.
-Britt
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