So I have this gun, which I got illegally from some nefarious characters. But it never works when I need it to. The other night I tried to use it and it disintegrated in my hands. So I decided to go back to the place where I got it and get a new one. The place is a round room, decorated by the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy guys. It is at the end of a long pier, but the way is blocked by enormous rubber balls and giant wooden blocks. So I turn to Mick Jagger and say, "Can't I just buy a gun?" And he says, "What do you do?" And I say, "I'm a writer." And he says, "Oh, no. They don't let writers have guns."
4 comments:
Hey G,
Sammy looks so different. Is this a crazy dream. Very interesting. Sounds like something I would dream about.
A dream? Why would you say that? Me and Mick--we're tight.
Hey, are you still on? I found my class card. Are we going belly dancing tonight?
G
Yeah, but we didn't go to belly dancing because KK had a belly ache.
G
Get over it and just GO!
D
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