By: Me, Meowlissa, Melissa, M & M
(Ink, Watercolor, Acrylic)
Random dream for Tuesday: I was startled awake by the singing alarm; my soul mildly disturbed. Just seconds earlier, I was dreaming of shoving fabric in some Brunette's mouth. (No it wasn't Olivia Wilde and no I wasn't spooning alcohol into that beautiful mouth of hers but that would make the dream better, wouldn't it?)
Photo from Olivia Wilde Vogue shoot: VogueMoving on...
Apparently, something compelled me to suffocate this mysterious brunette before HE did. That's right. Dundundun Her real italic murderer (her future murderer?) was actually outside, pacing this very beach house. He was stalking her, pitchfork in one hand, dog leash in the other. I was sneaking, ever-so-slightly through the beach house so as not to make the real Italic Murderer aware of my presence. Not only did I not know who this mysterious brunette is, but why the hell would I feel a sudden murderous urge when we were running amok inside a beach house? Why did I deem it necessary that I kill her before her real italic murderer had the chance? Was I angry that she wasn't part of the Ginger Club? The Professional Fire Crotch club? Perhaps she polished off the last of my Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream? We shall never know the answers to these questions. All we know is, the singing alarm saved this partially suffocated mysterious brunette. Just in the tit of time, oh. I mean...nick. Nick of time.
Photo from her Italian GQ Shoot