Just bacon?
You dream of Bono. Try it sometime.
At first, he was just a random producer (this is a direct result of a craigslist ad. A producer posted an ad under Rants and Raves asking why he wasn't he getting laid as often as he thought he would, being a producer and all. Women should be falling at his feet! But they're not!). We were laying on the floor, looking at old concert footage of bands. Then U2 appeared on the screen and I said, "Wait. Is that here [in Seattle]?" He said yes, at the somethingerother, a very small venue downtown. I asked how U2 could have possibly played that venue. There would be way too many people. The producer told me this footage was from the 80s, before they were huge (forget the fact they were already huge in the 80s). I understood how special this footage was. I was in awe.
Then I was laying next to Bono. It was all very PG, Bono's a stand up guy so he's not going to cheat on his wife. As a matter of fact, the phone rang while we were cuddling and he answered it "Hello dahling...." Such a nice man.
Anywho, then we pulled out the couch to go to sleep and he set up the playpen in the corner, then he magically disappeared and replaced by some old lady in a house dress who was mumbling about the ceiling and how it was going to burst at any minute and there were six TVs in the little kitchen, all of them tuned to a different station, and I asked if we could maybe turn them off and she said "After christmas."
No more bacon for dinner.
And maybe I should go grocery shopping.
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