Straight from the recesss of my brain, a region that is now under permanent lockdown and is being made to dance with a pair of underpants on it's head, came this screaming unholy banshee of a dream. Rosie O'Donnell remade the entire 'Ziggy Stardust' album (picture her with the haircut if you will), and made a rockumentary about it with Tom Cruise. Part of the conversation was how important it was for them to look good for their public, and Rosie said that a stylist had taught her how to femme up but that she would show up for premieres in glammy dresses and Chuck Taylors. Then another stylist had turned her on to wide shoes impregnated with KY so they slid on and off easily (this makes no sense at all, you know she has drawers full of the stuff).
I do not welcome any interpretations. It's bad enough that I remembered this dream. Though it does occur to me that it contains a famous lesbian, a famous closet case and a famous bi-sexual (or was at that time, Iman is a deal closer).
In unrelated news, I have lost three pounds just by 'cutting down'. Yay! I may have lost more weight as a result of the dream, and certainly will not be enjoying my food as much as usual today.
Something else that puts me off my food is those disgusting Fruit Gusher commercials where the kid (whose head is a swollen blue raspberry) sneezes and blue snot explodes over everything. These are the most repulsive commercials, which is ironic, because I have to admit, I think the charms of the Fruit Gusher can stand on their own. Chewy outside with a sweet, gelatinous interior, they're pretty good, considering the nearest they have been to fruit is passing a fruit tree in the truck from the chemical plant to the store. I always steal a bag when I get some for the sprog.