Had a dream last night that I was some sort of awesome, golfing-babe, foreign 007-femme-fatale type. And Jason Statham was another country’s competing 007-type, but he thought I was shexy, and I thought he was shexy, and we did all kinds of shexy 007-type courting things like knife throwing competitions. In a Price Chopper super market.
This is my brain. Welcome to it.