| Current mood: | weird |
Weird dream (xpost)
I was at a Buccaneers game with my friend Gary (playing himself), Amy B. (who I haven't seen in years, playing the role of "Leia"), and some guy, who seems to be a combination of people I know, as Jason. His main purpose seemed to be to piss of Leia with smartass remarks which were funny in the dream but make absolutely no sense now (e.g., after one play, she asked, "How did that happen?" and he responded, "Well, you see, Leia, when two people really love each other...", at which point, she flew in front of me to smack the shit out of him). Oh, by the way. We weren't actually in the stadium - we had a little blanket spread out on the ground outside like it was a picnic, but we could still see the game. Perhaps the most shocking event of the game was Jon Gruden (for those who don't know, he's the Bucs' coach) quitting mid-game because he was sick of them sucking, then joining the opposing team as their quarterback (although his Jersey said "Malik" on it). Didn't get to see him play, though, because he kept rambling on and on in some speech to his new teammates and ran out of time before they started the ceremony to honor the Naked Guy of the Week. The announcer started talking about how the guy won a new Dodge Ram as the truck was driven out on the field, but explained that he has to pass a drug test first. The guy rises up on this little rocket-powered platform (fully-clothed) from out of sight and glides into the middle of the field. He looks like a major stoner, and is walking like he's fucked up when he gets onto the field. Gary and I (who are now somehow on the field, too) start laughing and saying things like, "Look, there's the guy who's going to lose the truck he just won". We start to walk back to our blanket, and on the way, we see some woman leaning on a pickup (a Dodge Dakota. So many Dodges in my dream!). She has the hood up, and theres a beer stuck in a little pocket at the front of the engine compartment. I examine it for a second and exclaim, "Beer holder!" The woman pulls the beer out to show me it's just part of the latching mechanism for the hood, and I look at her and calmly, sort of dejectedly, say, "beer holder..."
I want a beer holder.
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