I had a very funny dream about Bush last night: he lived across the street from me. No secret service, nothing special, he just lived in my neighbor’s house.
In my dream, he was watering his lawn with the hose, and I was mowing mine.
I turned off my mower, walked across the street, and said, “You know, I think you’re a pretty lousy president . . . but you have a *really* nice lawn.”
He said, “Well, thanks, Wil. Your lawn is pretty nice, too.”
That was it. I think it’s really funny. I was going to write about it in my own blog, but I didn’t, because all those fucking neo-con shitheads will flood me with hate mail about it.
Because, you know, I’m not all patriotic and stuff, and I should go live in France.