wickedflea (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wickedflea) wrote2002-08-14 09:37 am
wickedflea) wrote2002-08-14 09:37 am
(no subject)
I've been having weird dreams brought on by sinus pressure and ungodly amounts of TheraFlu and Robitussin. Last night I had a Gene Simmons dream. I was at a co-ed boarding school, and KISS gave some sort of lecture there. After the lecture, Gene came to my dorm room to hold court -- you know, like sign autographs for all his adoring fans and whatnot. So there he sat in full makeup, doing his thing, for half an hour or so -- until the RA came along. She was like, no way -- all you people have to get out of this room, there are fire codes, absolutely no Gods of Thunder allowed on the premises, blah blah blah. So off Gene went.
I forget what exactly happened next, but apparently Gene offered me a job in New York as his personal assistant. He said that I'd hardly ever have to do anything and that my job would basically be cruising around the city in his Rolls-Royce. I couldn't decide what to do; part of me really wanted to go to the city and be a rock-and-roll lackey.
Since waking up, I've become more concerned with Gene's intentions. Why did he have to come to my dorm room? And what's all this "personal assistant" noise? Do you think that Gene wanted to show me his Love Gun? Did he want me to Rock and Roll Over for him? Was I to be his Creature of the Night?
I'll tell ya -- I'm a KISS freak from way back, but I ain't down with that. To tell you the truth, I'll be the first to admit that Gene Simmons is totally disgusting -- not in his fire-breathing, blood-spitting stage persona, but in his everyday "I make lots of money, so get over here so I can put this foot-long tongue to work and take a naked Polaroid of you" demeanor. Every time I see him on television these days, I just want to tell him to shut his ridiculous mouth. I'm thinking that anyone who feels the need to say every five minutes that he's boned ten thousand women is hiding something. I think Gene is trying to sex me, but I'll not be swayed by his lurid advances, oh no oh no.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm just saying, you know, I'm not wired that way.
I forget what exactly happened next, but apparently Gene offered me a job in New York as his personal assistant. He said that I'd hardly ever have to do anything and that my job would basically be cruising around the city in his Rolls-Royce. I couldn't decide what to do; part of me really wanted to go to the city and be a rock-and-roll lackey.
Since waking up, I've become more concerned with Gene's intentions. Why did he have to come to my dorm room? And what's all this "personal assistant" noise? Do you think that Gene wanted to show me his Love Gun? Did he want me to Rock and Roll Over for him? Was I to be his Creature of the Night?
I'll tell ya -- I'm a KISS freak from way back, but I ain't down with that. To tell you the truth, I'll be the first to admit that Gene Simmons is totally disgusting -- not in his fire-breathing, blood-spitting stage persona, but in his everyday "I make lots of money, so get over here so I can put this foot-long tongue to work and take a naked Polaroid of you" demeanor. Every time I see him on television these days, I just want to tell him to shut his ridiculous mouth. I'm thinking that anyone who feels the need to say every five minutes that he's boned ten thousand women is hiding something. I think Gene is trying to sex me, but I'll not be swayed by his lurid advances, oh no oh no.
Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm just saying, you know, I'm not wired that way.
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he makes me sick sometimes.
-p
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That's right! I keep forgetting you are southern... insert your own joke about stereotypical southern mating habits here.
:]
-p
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pun!
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Well, at least it wasn't his meatus. Of course, I guess we don't really know about that . . .
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