Cop Rock

I'm heading to the Eastern Midwest this weekend to witness some Judgment Day nuptials. Fitting that I will be in Columbus, Ohio for The Rapture. This means that Hair Band Friday will be taking place on a Boeing. Rest assured, we're gonna drink the plane out of liquor and party like it's 1986 and we're on our way to Monsters of Rock. Some stewardesses aren't even gonna know what hit 'em. Actually, they will: champagne and dong. More like Air Band Friday! But seriously, I'll probably just be listening to hair band music on a plane while sitting next to my pregnant wife. I will be at half-mast, though.

In completely unrelated news, my friend The Weez confided in me that he had a dream about me, which is recounted below. As you know, I have a history of having some vivid (and usually weird) dreams, so it's nice to see myself on the other side. For reference, Creature is his brother. He is called Creature because he is not yet a griffin -- the king of the creatures. To do so, he must bed two women at once and scream "I am Griffin" loud enough that the other creatures will hear and take heed, for they will then have a new king. Until then, however, he is merely Creature. All of this bears no relevance to the story or to The Weez's dream, but it is important that you know of the impending coming of the Griffin. Pun intended.

Here is the dream, as relayed to me via email. I was laughing out loud while reading this because it's dead on.

So, we're all going to some house party, in a neighborhood like yours/Creature's.

And as we come up, there had been a shooting, or something, since the whole area is swarming with cops, and police tape and stuff. So we walk up, to gawk, but you keep going. And Creature and I are about to stop you from crossing over the police line when you take out your wallet and show the other cops your badge. You were pretty slick and non-chalant about it.

(You also had that black leather 'cuff holder' thing on the small of your back. I didn't see a weapon on you, but based on your pussy liberal stance on guns, I assume you'd have trained at the MacGyver School of Non-anti-firearm self-defense, or something.)

(You also had a black leather jacket and black denim pants on, which almost makes up for not having a gun.)

And you started talking to the cops right away, and they told you about the situation. And Creature and I looked at each other and said "Oh, yeah. I forgot that GMYH is a cop. That's so damn cool."

The only bad part for you, was I think they all outranked you, since they had you move one of the cars used in the crime out of the way, so they'd have easier access to move. But I can tell they admired your hustle.

Hell yeah, they did. One of my nicknames from back in my summer janitorial days was Donny Hustle. Weez, I expect you to whip up a screenplay with that name based on your dream. I can play myself if you want.