Whereas a third grader dictates her dream to me. I record a movie of it and now humbly present it to you.
"Hi, my name is Dylan and I want to tell SHR about my dream. One day I... you were living in India on 7th Ave. Then I went into your house, your apartment, which was actually a house. It was white and it smelled like dirty, smelly socks. And there was a cot. There was nothing but a dirty laundry room and a cot. And then you were holding, and then suddenly a dog came into the picture and started jumping on your head and SHR was holding a tutu for the dog. And then I decided to leave. And there was a Budweiser company next door. And Mr. Listmaker said, 'Dylan, do you want to go by the Budweiser company?' 'Yes!' So we went. And then I saw Willy Wonka. And then he asked me if I wanted some Budweiser. And then Willy Wonka put me in a room full of bumblebees, live bumblebees and I ate them and they tasted like cotton candy. And then, and then in the distance I heard the song 'I am a baby bumblebee. Won't my mommy be so proud of me? I am a baby bumblebee.' Okay. And so on and so on. Bye."
Hasn't Willy heard about the boycott?
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2 comments:
Dylan is priceless!
I'm wondering how Dylan knows so much about your life. You know what? I bet she knows a lot about you, like how you like music.
I love Dylan's subtle evocation of Brett Easton Ellis' 1980s social alienation theme, even down to her use of dated drug argot such as "you were holding."
Dylan needs to get Robert Downey Jr.'s agent on the phone sharpish to talk movie rights concerning the Bud/Bee dream.
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