|An Unpredictable Guest
||[Feb. 3rd, 2014|08:23 am]
I dreamed that an elderly, Falstaffian Orson Welles was trying to seduce me. I told him why I wasn't interested. On his first visit he left a bag of gold coins hidden in a sheaf of newspapers under the sofa cushion. On his second he left a couple of bombs. My friends and I managed to chuck them out of the window just in time. |
It was my house and I don't stock it. :)
If he shows up again, feel free to send him over to one of my dreams. :)
So he didn't deal at all well with rejection, I suppose.
I don't think he got a lot of it in his life- except from film producers.
At least he didn't leave frozen peas.
No. I had great plans for spending the gold coins...
You have excellent dreams, mon cher.
Even if Welles were your bag of chips, I shudder for his heart. "Oh god!". Clonk. " Rosebud...."
Have you see Chimes at Midnight? Welles, for me, is the definitive Falstaff.