Friday, October 10, 2008

Sarah Palin Visits My Dreams

Any shrinks out there? Had a strange dream last night about Sarah Palin:

It's a little fuzzy, but I first found myself in the produce section of a grocery store. I was apparently running for public office. There was a huge spread of vegetables stacked high like a mountain. I grabbed a tomato and gave a stump speech about its virtues: "A tomato wants liberty and freedom and democracy just like we yearn for those things. A tomato is tolerant and fair just like we are tolerant and fair." Something like that.

Suddenly, Palin emerged from the crowd of onlookers, wearing a pink Sean John jump suit, and screamed "avocados!!!!!" She then started climbing the vegetable mountain. Whe she reached the apex she held up the crowning avocado and yelped "I hold the avocado, you betcha!" The crowd hooted wildy and let out thunderous applause. Whe she descended back down, she jumped off the veggies, winked at me and then smacked my on the ass like I was rounding third after hitting a home run.

Things got a little confused after that, but the dream came back into focus at a construction site in downtown Manhattan. Similarly another indeterminate political rally. This time I was wearing a singlet - you know - like King Kong Bundy. In the middle of the construction pit were two turntables. Suddenly a slow murmur befell the crowd, followed by clapping: It was Palin again - this time decked out in red, white and blue sun dress with Fourth of July sparkler planted in a fifties bee-hive hairdo. Curtsying for the crowd's approval, Palin gave me the finger - yes, Sarah Palin flipped me the bird - pointed in my direction and yelled over and over again: "Fat Boy on a diet. Fat Boy on a diet. Fat Boy on a diet." Her words were strangely modulated, like Lil' Wayne recording "Lollipop." The crowd erupted in belly laughter and chanted "Fat Boy, Fat Boy, Fat Boy."

After her supporters settled down, Palin leaped into the air, landed on top the turn tables, squatted and (I feel uncomfortable about this next part too) urinated on the equipment. Yep . . . she peed on the turntables.

Then she winked at me again.

I woke up drowning in sweat. In a panic I looked down the bed - thank goodness: The last time I pissed the bed will still remain freshman year, Greek Week.

What does it mean?

2 comments:

Defective Pants said...

You worry that your obsession with your own appearance is the same type of superficial priority that has people revved up in favor Palin. That and you are just batshit crazy.

Your Roster of Pundits: Beeker, Sidecar, The Gel, Defective Pants and Warm Apple Pie said...

Is there a prescription for this?