Hey woman. Last night, I had a nightmare. The whole thing was in a timewarp, so I remember everything very clearly.
I was wearing a leather jacket, unlike everyone in the ballroom who had on obscure cloaks, big bows like dumb cows on their heads, and humongous boobs popping out for the women.
I made an announcement some time after I met eyes with this woman named Juliet. Then it all went blurry and then I was in the middle of making a commitment to entrust $100,000,000 to miss Juliet. In the form of a mixed tape. With love songs.
“…You look wonderful tonight,” I uttered in my lowest voice. I didn’t know why, but her rosy cheeks grew even redder. I like it. And I kept on singing. “As I was saying, Juliet, kill me softly…”
Before I finished my word with “…with this song,” it all went blurry again and I was bobbing my head to a mashup of “Booty Call” with my serenade. So it goes:
Killing me softly, yeah
I promise, like oh oh oh
That I really
Really really really wanna
Booty call
with this song
I promise
I went bobbing like an idiotic duck that goes quack quack quack in da club, but I wasn’t having my cool jacket anymore. I was in a huge cloak and a big bow and bloody eyes popping out at Juliet, apparently from shots of Bloody Marys.
This time, holy Juliet, she had humongous boobs popping out of her Halloween costume, still with the rosy cheeks though. I didn’t know what to sing anymore, so she went on:
“Where’s my mixed tape?”
So I said, I don’t know. I must have misappropriated the $100,000,000 somewhere in time. Perhaps for tons of Bloody Marys. Bloody hell.
My song remixes are nothing compared the background’s eclectic tunes. Something like a woman’s whisper that goes: “Oh oh oh baby”. On and on.
Then the dim lights changed. I looked into Juliet’s furious eyes staring back at me, and then it all went blurry again.
This time, I am singing “Wonderful Tonight” on a gigantic stage and obscure puppets in my background moving along with the music, with all four corners of the square guarded with toddlers. The night lights are crazy; there are fireworks and shooting stars all above me, or was it all in my head? I’m not sure, but what’s for sure are those babies. Those dancing babies on all four corners, bobbing their butts to my serenade.
I scanned the crowd for Juliet’s rosy cheeks. She didn’t have gigantic boobies popping out. She dressed like plain Jane, so it’s all fine. Then I hear a faint whisper:
“Where’s my mixed tape?”
And I say, “And I say… You look wonderful tonight.”
Apparently that didn’t charm her. She loves money more than my charms. Sigh. Women.
Obviously I couldn’t renege on my word, because it all goes back and forth. I mean, how can you stay linear in a dream, or, for that matter, in life?
So I woke up, dressed myself in metal armors, wrote a bunch of sonnets, and made countless plays to win all women’s hearts. You know, play prince charming and all.
Your Romeo, 1 November 2010
