I got into a fistfight with Madonna in my dreams last night. And I don't mean Jesus's Mom because that's sacrilege and I'm too handsome for that, but also because THAT Madonna has God thinking she was hot and I don't want to pick a fight with the big Guy's main girl, yo. I'd be all "What's up, Madonna?" You feelin' froggish? You wanna jump?" and then God would be all "Um. Dick?" and then he would point at his muscles because My God has a gun show going on and then he would lift his shirt and show off his six-pack abs and I would be all "Sorry, Holy Father! I didn't know she was with YOU." and then I'd put my hands up which is probably sign language for "I'm a pussy." because if I was inventing new signs I'd be "Let's make this mean 'I'm a pussy!' Ha ha ha. Stupid fucking hearing people!". Apparently on top of being unwilling to beat up a religious icon I am also a very bitter deaf person. It's this kind of deep introspection that makes me such a prize. Also, God having six pack abs is true, because God made man in his own image and look at me.
No, the Madonna I picked a fight with was the Material Girl and not the wimpy, cute one from the 80s, with the arm bangles and the big pubic bush, but the new one with the ropey muscle arms and the Kabbalah on her side and I don't know what kind of bush but if I had to guess it would be "greying". I'm not sure what I did to enrage her, although according to Vic I'm a leprechaun* in dreamland, so maybe she was after me pot o' gold or my Lucky Charms© or something. So I get her in a headlock and I'm dragging her out of the church where the epic brawl began when it occurs to me, as in the dream Me....like in the dream, how funny it is that I've got Madonna in a headlock in the middle of a church and how if this were a dream that would probably mean something. And then I woke up.
I hate when my mind fucks with me.
Because Why did it point out the symbolism? Does my subconscious hate my waking mind like a mortal enemy for banishing it to the background like Zeus and Hades in Disney's Hercules©? That's awesome. My brain is so big I totally can pick a fight with myself and the only way I know it, is by leaving hate mail in my dreams and my subconscious is totally treating me like an idiot because it feels it needs to point out the obvious symbolism on the off-chance my conscious mind is too preoccupied with wanting dinosaur bones and boobies to notice that yeah, having a struggle a woman named after the Mother of God, inside a church might...you know...indicate something.
That was actually a good call, Sub-conscious. Well-played. All I'm thinking about most of the time IS boobies.
Anyway(s) Madonna totally kicked my ass, and I woke up dry-humping my pillow and crying.**
* I don't think it's fair for us to assume that leprechauns are always causing trouble, because maybe there is a super-nice, gay leprechaun who is totally just in it for the rainbows, and when you get to the end of his rainbow and you look in the pot of gold all you find is some old comic books and maybe a sock and you're all "Well, this is a gyp."
** I made this part up because I think it adds to my mystique. You're all "Wow, that Kurt is a deep guy and sensitive too because he woke up from a dream crying. I feel like I should take off my bra and show him my boobs." And I'm all "Score!" but then I remind you that I'm not that kind of guy, but I'm secretly happy because I've seen boobies.