Author Topic: Dreams of Lady Gaga have shaped my path. (Adult Content)  (Read 1154 times)

Offline czechwizard

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Dreams of Lady Gaga have shaped my path. (Adult Content)
« on: July 26, 2010, 08:21:20 PM »
One. I´m sitting in my spectacular garden under a palm tree
ranch, pondering the hard truths of life. Suddenly you show
up in front of me, saying "Can I join you ?". And I´m like
uninterested, replying "Sure, why not !" Then freaked out,
as my gated property  has walls, I look at you in dismay,
"Who on earth are you, young lady ? Wow, you jump well.
How did you get in ? But you are Lady Gaga !!!" I shouted,
bombastically shocked. You said nothing but started to
laugh. Then I woke up, fumbling my beautiful dark-skinned
wife´s inner thigh. "Man !" I stuttered, exhaling, and went to
sleep again, trying to re-live the dream of me and the sex goddess
Lady Gaga, savoring every detail of it.

Two. The following night, I went to a supermarket,
constantly thinking of Lady Gaga, closing my eyes, I see Lady
Gaga, shutting my ears, I hear Lady Gaga. I´m smiling this
time, but I usually frown. I´m talking to myself, like "Have I
gone insane or something ? Or is it that the world is totally
crazy ? Damn, I forgot what I was going to buy !" Then you
appear as a clerk with your mocking "Can I help you, sir ?"
I stare at you, dumbfounded, and manage rather upset "Lady
Gaga ? What are you doing in a Nicaraguan supermarket ?"
And you look at me like you´re in love with me,
and I melt the tough guy on the outside and hear your song Paparazzi in the background
"I will follow you until you love me, your paparazzi...", and I´m so moved. Then I wake up,
clearly disturbed, wiping a tear or two, mine, and whisper "holy cow !"

Three. Clad in my pathetic underwear, gloomy, I´m on the beach shuffling away,
kind of lost in a happy crowd. Then I catch a glimpse of you in
three piece bikinis, just like in my Voodoo video for you,
smiling at me. I move my lips to breathe your name and
start to run towards you, pushing through the crowd. But
laughing at me, you start to run away from me. I´m out of
breath, I stop, and whisper "You´re too fast, I´ll never catch
you like this". You come to me, padding on my shoulder.
And I, kind of melodramatically, ask you "Why are you
running away from me?", to which you reply softly "I don´t
know!" and demand from me "And why are you chasing
me?" I´m scared to tell you, my voice trembling, the tough
guy´s gone. Finally I manage "BECAUSE I KNOW, I´VE SEEN
THE FUTURE!!!" And I wake up in cold sweat, it´s like 100 F.

Four. I was at a beachside bar, looking at some pictures of you I had printed from my
ultimate Lady Gaga book. Then you showed up with a
boyfriend and a bodyguard sitting next to my table. I
thought how jealous I was, frowning, pretending not to see
you at all. You noticed me strange. I started to rehearse
what I would resolutely say to you, I was going to put up a hell of a show,
quite a scene. Then you began teasing me,
kissing harder your boyfriend, it was so obscene.  I felt bad
and briefly made eye-contact with you. You showed me a
middle finger. I faked a f..k-you-too smile and was about to
leave devastated like at a funeral party, broken-hearted.
Suddenly you threw your "Hollywood plastic" boyfriend to
the floor and reached me to kiss me on my nose. I got dizzy
and accidentally grabbed your inner thigh as you were
wearing a red miniskirt when the bodyguard intervened and
punched me really hard. I went to ground. I felt heaven was
falling. You screamed "Don´t kill him! You´re so stoopid,
stop it, don´t even think about it!" as the bodyguard pulled
out a gun to shoot me. My nose was bleeding and I
managed resigned "Without you, Gaga, I´m a dead man
walking anyway..." You rushed to help me, wiping my blood,
whispering to me "See, you crazy sonofabitch, you almost
get killed because of me!" I nodded in awe, trying just to
breathe "What?". Where I woke up next to my sleeping
dark-skinned beauty snoring a bit.
 
Five. I´m riding my new rather pathetic-looking Premiere bicycle,
having a transcendental rock visual on the winding road.
Focusing on the easy-to-avoid stupid obstacle, I even accelerate,
kinda laughing at everything while thinking of Lady Gaga
skillfully dodging “all my bullets of love at first TV sight and listen”.
With a hysterical sense of victory or vendetta, I chuckle. “Dodge this!”
I don´t know how, but I crash the omen piece of rock
and fly headlong through the air, screaming like when you
get raped before I hit the environment-friendly/unfriendly
pavement. The bike follows me up, like an inseparable
sequel, and down. I´m fallen flat, with the broken bike on
top of me, moaning like a free bitch in heat. “Fuck, man!
This is a little bit too much!?” I complain, staring at the
poignant sky, fookin´pissed off, hurting as hell. Then some
twisted ugly Lady Gaga appears, exactly as in the opening
scene of her “Telephone”, smoking glasses, vampire lipstick,
and everything. “Need any help, bitch?” She bangs me. “I
can´t believe it and simply give up. You gotta be shitting me,
Lady Gaga?” I´m still crowned with the bike wreckage,
checking up on my  – eh  - brotherhood. With disdain, or
hate, you smile mischievously. “You know what, sir, I love
the way you keep falling for me. Can you treat me to
another trick, cuz I´m kinda bored of this sorry scene?! It
must have hurt, though.” Finally on my four, I make a
statement, stammering, fumbling towards ecstasy. “Gaga,
you, you´re really good. You Gaga, I mean, what the fuck,
lady!?” I wake up agitated next to my wife, wondering why I
always end up in bed with that dark-skinned beauty, a
voluptuous woman, instead of this snowwhite firewoman, a
dead skinny supersonic supersexy gal, almost forgetting I´m
married. “Holy shit, unholy shame on me!”    
« Last Edit: July 27, 2010, 02:39:43 AM by fire-fly »
Pure Design, Chance, or Mistake - my own successful philosophy, ever so polished with each sale of the 36 volume Sixth Gospel.