Abe Froman, pass the dirty belt sander. I’m ready for my homemade circumcision. You can even meander longinly over my swollen purple-headed warrior with the Black & Decker contractor’s grade model. I’ll gladly accept a good schlong mangling over watching “In Dreams” ever again. If you think I’m exaggerating…I FUCKING DARE YOU.
Funny thing is the subject matter did give me reason to dift far away. I floated back to a time when Abe and I used to run buck-wild looking for some hoes to ease up in. On one particular night an unnamed friend of ours came along. We’ll call him “Chris.” Anyway, we’re in a van owned by “Chris” sitting on a busy downtown street drinking the two cases of beer Abe and I require to “get our groove on.” Suddenly, “Chris” decides he needs to take a dump. Now.
We leave the van, staggering about looking for a place for “Chris” to uncork his bowels. Now I mentioned that we’re downtown, parked directly across the street from several upscale watering holes. We approached the first one and my gay-dar went berzerk. “You rapscallions can’t enter here…just look at you people…has no one told you that tweed is out?” Of course it didn’t help that “Chris” was screaming, “FOR CHRISTSAKE, LET ME IN!!! I GOTTA SHIT!!”
What to do now? I couldn’t bear to watch a brother shit himself. You ladies probably don’t understand. Hell, I know you don’t. I’ve seen a lot of broads’ underpants in my lifetime. Most of ’em look like the pit area at Daytona. Anyway, we stagger through the city looking for a place for “Chris” to blow mud. I mean this brother is in agony…he says, “gentlemen…my brown babies are ready to go to the pool.”
Finally we arrive in a dark alley and one of us close to filling his trousers with a colon bisquit when “Chris” sees a small broken pipe sticking up out of the pavement. He quickly drops trou, leans against the wall of the building and hovers his hairy ass over the pipe. Now I can hardly tell you how hard Abe and I were laughing. Of course we both were shaking the dew off our sizeable lillies and watching to see if “Chris” would shit or go blind. What happened next is the stuff of legend. It was almost as though Scorcese himself had directed the scene. The lighting was superb. You could clearly see a large turd the size of a footlong Subway meatball sandwich go directly into the pipe! It was like watching the Immaculate Reception! This was a magical moment in the history of bowel movements!
Just like the moment last night when I finally watched the credits roll on “In Dreams.” I felt like I’d passed a lawn chair out of my ass. Oh yeah, Annette Benning plays a mother who daydreams about murders. It made me daydream about turds.
In Dreams gets 70 Swayzes: