For reasons I can’t begin to understand, my dreams over the past couple of nights have been inundated with television, mostly Friends in general and Monica, played by Courteney Cox, in particular.
(I also sat down to eat lunch with Devon Miles, who, in my dream, wasn’t quite as classy as Edward Mulhare always made him out to be, but that was no surprise, as it eventually turned out that he had actually been replaced by an evil doppelganger, which led to the whole dam thing and also somehow explained why KITT wouldn’t talk to me — but let’s not go there, this is about me and Monica.)
I would love to say that I’ve been having exciting, titillating and entirely satisfying nubile oneiric escapades of the carnal kind, but this far, it’s mostly involved hanging out in improbably high buildings, climbing up a dam, driving around, wondering where I live, avoiding pursuers and trying to find a parking space for my nice little car that was given to me by my uncle and which doesn’t actually exist but which I’ve repeatedly dreamed about over the years. (Yes, admittedly, there was this one instance where we shared a shower, it’s true, but she actually had a particularly flabby and disproportionate man’s torso at the time and besides, we were busy discussing her marriage to one of the other airheads, so it was fairly businesslike. Also, the geometry of the place kept changing in a decidedly Lovecraftian manner, which lended a sense of gravitas not entirely conducive to erections to the proceedings.)
The lack of sex notwithstanding, we did have a kind of a relationship/marriage a couple of times, but it was limited to arguing about our working hours and largely colored by the fact that I just wanted to lie in the middle of the living room and spoon and fall asleep, and she wouldn’t stop talking or walking around. Also, back at the dam, which was now leaking dangerously, she insisted on saving Phoebe from the numerous bad guys, and took great offense when I pointed out that I didn’t really give two shits about Phoebe and neither did anyone else, and what she really should do is stop and wait while I took a leak. Harsh words were exchanged. Divorce was mentioned. This fascinating exchange was interrupted as, predictably enough, I woke up and had to go to the bathroom.
When I got back to bed, I was driving in that little car with with her and the rest of those damn people, and now I was securely one of them. I was bonding with the guys and all.
This shit has been going on for several nights now, and I don’t even watch TV. I believe my brain is fucked. Drastic measures may be required.
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