Skip navigation

Category Archives: referencing the smiths

Of the many things I hate about myself, one very prominent one is the kind of dreams that I have. Some people have dreams where they have aerial laser fights with Hitler while a choir of angels resembling Scarlett Johansson jack off their 70-ft dick. Not me. I have dreams about driving a car or reading dumb things on the internet. Basically, all of my dreams are as moribund as everything else in my life, hooray.

Last night I dreamt that somebody loved me–ha just kidding! I actually had a dream that I was reading a video blog by Dianne Feinstein. Only thing is that the first post was a blank space with no video, title of which was “I’m not sure how this works.” The post itself had 789 comments, most of which were by Wonkette‘s Ken Layne, saying things like “ha ha gay old San Franciscans fail at the internet!” but you know, wittier like. And people wondering, “Shouldn’t Feinstein have an intern or assistant to do this shit?”

Well. Feinstein, noticing the popularity of her video blog (I believe those are called “vlogs,” kill this generation now), decides that instead of posting video speeches about policy and important things that I don’t know about, just posts random things she finds on YouTube, like ABBA videos and endless kitty and puppy videos, like Box Cat or Puking Kitten or that amazing thing with the three pugs.

Basically, in my dreams, Dianne Feinstein is nothing more than Kathy Geiss.

I pictured Feinstein taking matchbox cars out of her mouth and woke up laughing hysterically.

Bring me the cyanide pills.