I dreamt I was in a busy outdoor marketplace, buying a length of maroon fabric as a mother's day gift for my motha. then there was a scuffle: Bill Clinton vs. some random young guy, right in the middle of the market. Bill Clinton was rambling about Wu-Tang cell phone cases. he said that to carry one in public view was to earmark yourself as a thug b/c you'd be associating yourself with violent gangsta rap culture. the young guy was having none of it. he told ol' Bill that a cell phone case was a fashion accessory, not a fucking gang sign.
as the debate heated up, a crowd gathered in my part of the marketplace and started making a lot of noise. at some point a bullet, fired by some unknown marksperson in the crowd, struck Bill Clinton in the chest. he fell to the ground, completely dead and completely bloodless. the crowd started rioting, which irked me because because I'd already finished shopping, and I knew that if I left the market right away, the streets would be so choked with rioters that it'd take forever to get home. I felt bad for Bill, but y'know, traffic is a big deal for me.
― sleighdog mcdonald (unregistered), Tuesday, 15 September 2009 23:18 (nine years ago) Permalink
does your motha have wings?
― tehresa, Tuesday, 15 September 2009 23:25 (nine years ago) Permalink
like a buttafly, you betcha
― sleighdog mcdonald (unregistered), Tuesday, 15 September 2009 23:27 (nine years ago) Permalink