Dish is a lightweight. Yestereve, a beer was consumed along with 1/2 a bag of Cheetos. This toxic mix induced a deep slumber. [insert wavy dream lines here]I'm at an awards banquet surrounded by stars (especially OMPs). Warren Beatty is on one side, Woody Allen on the other--two great icons of my childhood. A bowl of fruit, mostly grapes, sits in front of me. My plan is to chat up Warren because of Reds and Bullworth, but WB has no interest in me--just like he had no interest in Madonna after experiencing her fame-whore ways in Truth or Dare. I turn to Woody, who is fiddling with his Crackberry. Here is our conversation:
D: OMG, I just got a new phone and it's like heroin.
W: [endless gesturing] I know. It's...I'm...I just can't put it down.
D: OMG, forget it, I'm like playing solitaire and emailing my mother at both her email addresses at the same time. [a lie since Dish only emails DM at one address and has never been able to multi-task on a phone]
W laughs his face off because my comment is THAT funny.
A server comes by to bring us plates of more fruit, this time apples in the shape of stars. As I wake up, I think my colon has never been healthier.
Even though Woody slept with his daughter (though he did marry her), he was far friendlier at the banquet.
3 comments:
Get some help, Dish. Are these old guys worthy of you--even you dreaming? I think not.
Smells like a DM comment. :)
Smells? I don't do anonymous and my comments don't smell.
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