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| | Strange Dream
Posted on 02/13/2007 by Spike
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The adventures of Super Spike-
I had a very peculiar dream last night involving a New Years Eve gig in a big city and some has-been actress going to maybe or maybe not blow up a part of the city. I happened to be in the room where she was recording her message to be broadcast, mostly out of curiosity, and Isabella got pushed in with the small crowd as well. After she broadcasts her message I confront the home-grown terrorist and her D&G handbag-why? She says I wouldn't understand, throws a fit in a back room and starts chucking boxes and hats and ultimately, a dress, at me. The dress begins white but the time I try it on it has resolved itself to a rich chocolate color with red trimmings (thank you, Flora, Fauna & Merriweather). I never got to see myself in the dress-had to run from the police and to stop my father from committing crimes and to save some cats that had been stuck in a trunk-but in the changing process Isabella told me that what I was already wearing really wasn't my color and I should consider never wearing it again (FTR, it was a replica of the black shiny & silver unitards she made with the black replaced with a deep metallic red). At first I was hurt-how could she say that to me? But I resigned myself to the fact that she was probably right, I mean, she's taken so many fashion tips from me, maybe she's boned up on the subject and surpassed my one superior knowledge point. So I tossed the offending garment aside, which, for angel reference would have been a sweet costume, and ran out to save the world in black spankys and a sports bra. That's how the pro's do it, right? At the end of the dream there was a showdown between crazy actress who had somehow escaped the clutches of the police in designer stilettos, and her ex-marine-turned mob brother, Leonardo DiCaprio-who knew? He comes around the side of the building a la Departed, with a WHITE gun, a silencer attached to the end. I try to give out a little warning, he's coming to kill her, but after a vain attempt I say forget it and dive out of the second story window, hop three brick walls, and wake up to the praise music my boyfriend has set for my alarm.
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