Last night I had a dream that I was in my old house -- the one i grew up in -- and i'm with Brian just sitting around. I get up to get something from my closet and this gigantic doll that i used to have (it was a porceline headed clown doll that was 3ft tall -- i had two of them) was hanging by a noose in my closet and nodding it's head no when peeked inside. I freaked out, slammed the door, and ran out. Told Brian who said I was just tripping or stoned or something. I agreed and we just sat around some more. Then the other doll that was seated near us started to move. At first, i was the only one that saw it cause it just sort of budged... but then it started to roll around. That's when Brian grabbed me and we went running out the door. I can't remember what happened to those dolls in real life, but I think they might be in a box in my parent's attic. I never want a doll ever again. Except for my talking Master P doll who says "Uhhhhh! Na na na na!"
What I learned from this experience is that I dont like sleeping alone sometimes, however, when I woke up, I was totally diagnol on the bed. There's no way I can share a bed with anyone else -- unless is a gigantic bed. Which doesnt exist in NYC.
Lastnight I went to some party with Ben for some movie that's opening on one screen. It was free beer so when the invitation came my way I couldn't pass it up. As I was downing a few drinks we all got excited that Boy George was there. So I called up Vicki and told her to get to the party so she could stare at Boy with me. Suddenly Boy was missing and then another Boy George appeared -- this time the REAL Boy George. Can you believe that there was a Boy George decoy? I felt like I was in Star Wars, except with a less attractive cast.
What I learned from this experience is that having a decoy is the new having drugs.