So last night, as I was downloading pornographic bootleg SpongeBobs... sent to me from a hairdresser I know in Argentina, I noticed that I had no milk for tomorrow's coffee, so I looked at the car keys, which had been strategically placed under the short leg of the kitchen table so the soup wouldn't spill and I had to make a decision: do I walk to the store or do I drive and spill the soup?
After a half an hour on my hands and knees, I delicately removed the car keys from under the table and the soup didn't spill which pissed me off so much that I whipped it against the wall
Then, I tried to wash it off with my machine gun squirt gun which was full of another kind of soup and I kinda liked the pattern I made, so I took photographs of it, intending to do paintings of the photographs which I would sell back to myself later since I am a private collector
Then I got outside and get in my car and driving out to the store. My mind is skipping around. I'm wondering how my life would have been different had I've been born one day earlier. Then I'm thinking, "Maybe it wouldn't have been different other than I would have asked that question yesterday."
So I go in the store and no one's behind the register and I'm thinking, "I should go behind the register so when people come in, they can ask me questions and I can say, 'What? Do I look like I work here?'"
Then I went to the back of the store where they keep the milk and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the 17-year-old girl come out of the backroom and go behind the register and I'm wondering, "What's she doing in the backroom?" And then I tried to distract myself with my own imagination. Looked at a can of peas and I started counting the peas that were on the label. "44, 45, 46" I'm wondering if they had a meeting on how many peas should be on the label of the can. "47's too many. 45's not enough. All in favor of 46. OK, that's 46."
Then I took the milk and I went up to the register and I said, "Hi, how are you?" And she said, "Will that be all?" And I said, "No. I wanna buy this."
Then I tried to read her mind but I couldn't 'cause I can barely read my own mind
Then I was imagining me and her running naked across Fenway Park holding hands and the crowd cheering, "Go! Go! Go!"
Then I said to her, "Do you like baseball?" And she said, "What?" And I said, "Do you sell lighter fluid by the case?"
And she got all nervous, so then I left
And I'm driving around. I'm thinking, "Alright. I'm still alive. Now what am I gonna do?"
So I figure I'd go down and rent a movie. So I go down to the video store and I can't remember the title of the movie I want so I'm describing the movie to the guy
I said, "Yeah, you know, it's that black and white movie. It's on color film. I think it stars Nicolas Cage and Hayley Mills. It's that movie where the country loses the war 'cause they accidentally made the submarines out of styrofoam and they won't go under the water."
The guy's just blankly looking at me. As I'm saying this to him, I'm realizing, "This isn't a movie I saw. This is a dream I had."
I'm thinking, "My God, I'm trying to rent one of my own dreams." Which would be pretty cool actually
Then the guy says to me, "That's not a movie you saw. That's a dream you had." And I said, "How do you know?" And he said, "'cause you were in here last week trying to rent the same thing."
And I said, "Alright. Let me know when you get it in."
