My Jonas Dream (a must read)
I JUST woke up from a weird ass dream and I have to write it down or I'll forget. And it involved the Jonas Brothers.
Okay so I guess I was on vacation all by myself. I was at this huge hotel, with a gigantic cabana with multiple large pools and shady archways that lead right to the front door of the fancier suites. The most interesting part of this huge cabana is that the Ellen Degeneres Show was filming a musical spot there. Lady Gaga was gonna perform live by the pool as opposed to in Ellen's studio. A group of us clamored around between the camera's to watch her perform, but there were surprisingly few of us. The song started and I remember thinking "Hm, this is slow... what slow song could she possibly be singing?" The she started singing... and it took a minute... but I realized she was singing "Wouldn't Change A Thing" from Camp Rock 2. And my brain exploded. I started to hyperventilate a little, a combination of "This is the funniest damn thing EVER" and "Oh My God... Joe's part.... WHO's GONNA SING JOE'S PART?" I think I might have even turned to a poor girl next to me and shouted this. Then suddenly, there's Joe, singing with Lady Gaga, not more than 6 feet away from me.
The song ends and Gaga and the cameras vanish. The crowd starts to dwindle except for a a surprisingly few who mill around casually trying to get close to Joe. A girl finally comes up and asks for a picture and he is super sweet and takes one with her, then with another girl. I'm leaning against an archway trying to be cool and not completely freak the fuck out which is what I want to do. Something else happens, that I don't quite remember, Joe goofing off doing something. Then pictures are done, Big Rob appears and they start walking right past me. Joe and I make eye contact and I give the pussiest wave ever. He smiles and comes over to me like he knows me! I think he even says my name! Outside I'm trying to be all cool while he starts talking to me, and I dont hear a damn word he says because inside my brain is screaming HOW DOES HE KNOW YOU? OMG YOUR TWITTER. HE HAS SEEN EVERY FUCKED UP THING YOU HAVE SAID TO AND ABOUT HIM. Regardless, he hugs me and PECKS ME ON THE LIPS GOODBYE. And is off, tra la la with Big Rob. Now real Hilary would drop dead right there but apparently dream Hilary thinks she's hot shit now, and just casually starts pimp strolling through the cabana.
I get to the other side of the pool and there's a little cluster of people hanging out and goofing off on what I realize is my beach chair. I get closer and it's NICK JONAS and a little entourage. It should be noted too, that for some reason, it's younger Nick Jonas. Like curly big mop top Nick. I'm convinced that my brain created this young version for reality purposes, because it knows that if I were ever anywhere near legal, big, strong, tall, currently hot-as-fuq Nick Jonas, I'd simply die. Literally. Heart would stop, and I'd be no longer of this world. ANYCRAP there's Nick and all these people screwing around and like doing skits and stuff on my beach chair. I some how get pulled into the loop. We're all having fun, but the entourage begins to disperse and theres only a few people left, and I jokingly tell Nick that I love him but he needs to get his ass off muh chair. I fold it up and we stroll back to the other side of the pool near the archways where Joe disappeared to.
A dude in a suit pops out of the suite under the arches and casually asked me to come inside. And suddenly I knew what he wanted. We get inside and he sits me down and hands me a clipboard with a shit ton of papers on it. The top paper is half hand written and half typed, like a generic form that he has filled in with particulars. I have to check next to all this shit he's written (mostly illegibly) then sign the bottom, then move on to a bunch of other papers. Though I can hardly read the thing I realize it's basically a form ensuring I don't go run my mouth about hanging out with Nick and Joe. I'm pretty sure one said something like "I did not have sexual relations with Joe" and the one under it said "If I DID have sexual relations with Joe I solemnly swear that he was a very good lover" Clearly I'm having issue with this because A.) I can't fucking read it and B.) I can not sign this and promise I won't talk about what happened. IS THIS MAN INSANE? I MUST GO BACK TO MY ROOM AND TELL TWITTER RIGHT THE FUCK NOW?! I'm sitting there holding the pen frantically trying to figure out how I'm gonna get out of this. He can't MAKE me sign it can he? I can just go, can't I? But I'm scared, like he'll hurt me if I try to leave, or that Don Creeps will pop out and chloroform me or something. I'm on the verge of a meltdown when everyone shows up, all three boys, Big Rob, Danielle, Denise, and they're all super sweet and calm me down and eventually shoo me off, having distracted the suit guy enough not to notice I didn't sign a damn thing.
Then I leave the room and the dream changes.
Wow. I... I have issues.
Okay so I guess I was on vacation all by myself. I was at this huge hotel, with a gigantic cabana with multiple large pools and shady archways that lead right to the front door of the fancier suites. The most interesting part of this huge cabana is that the Ellen Degeneres Show was filming a musical spot there. Lady Gaga was gonna perform live by the pool as opposed to in Ellen's studio. A group of us clamored around between the camera's to watch her perform, but there were surprisingly few of us. The song started and I remember thinking "Hm, this is slow... what slow song could she possibly be singing?" The she started singing... and it took a minute... but I realized she was singing "Wouldn't Change A Thing" from Camp Rock 2. And my brain exploded. I started to hyperventilate a little, a combination of "This is the funniest damn thing EVER" and "Oh My God... Joe's part.... WHO's GONNA SING JOE'S PART?" I think I might have even turned to a poor girl next to me and shouted this. Then suddenly, there's Joe, singing with Lady Gaga, not more than 6 feet away from me.
The song ends and Gaga and the cameras vanish. The crowd starts to dwindle except for a a surprisingly few who mill around casually trying to get close to Joe. A girl finally comes up and asks for a picture and he is super sweet and takes one with her, then with another girl. I'm leaning against an archway trying to be cool and not completely freak the fuck out which is what I want to do. Something else happens, that I don't quite remember, Joe goofing off doing something. Then pictures are done, Big Rob appears and they start walking right past me. Joe and I make eye contact and I give the pussiest wave ever. He smiles and comes over to me like he knows me! I think he even says my name! Outside I'm trying to be all cool while he starts talking to me, and I dont hear a damn word he says because inside my brain is screaming HOW DOES HE KNOW YOU? OMG YOUR TWITTER. HE HAS SEEN EVERY FUCKED UP THING YOU HAVE SAID TO AND ABOUT HIM. Regardless, he hugs me and PECKS ME ON THE LIPS GOODBYE. And is off, tra la la with Big Rob. Now real Hilary would drop dead right there but apparently dream Hilary thinks she's hot shit now, and just casually starts pimp strolling through the cabana.
I get to the other side of the pool and there's a little cluster of people hanging out and goofing off on what I realize is my beach chair. I get closer and it's NICK JONAS and a little entourage. It should be noted too, that for some reason, it's younger Nick Jonas. Like curly big mop top Nick. I'm convinced that my brain created this young version for reality purposes, because it knows that if I were ever anywhere near legal, big, strong, tall, currently hot-as-fuq Nick Jonas, I'd simply die. Literally. Heart would stop, and I'd be no longer of this world. ANYCRAP there's Nick and all these people screwing around and like doing skits and stuff on my beach chair. I some how get pulled into the loop. We're all having fun, but the entourage begins to disperse and theres only a few people left, and I jokingly tell Nick that I love him but he needs to get his ass off muh chair. I fold it up and we stroll back to the other side of the pool near the archways where Joe disappeared to.
A dude in a suit pops out of the suite under the arches and casually asked me to come inside. And suddenly I knew what he wanted. We get inside and he sits me down and hands me a clipboard with a shit ton of papers on it. The top paper is half hand written and half typed, like a generic form that he has filled in with particulars. I have to check next to all this shit he's written (mostly illegibly) then sign the bottom, then move on to a bunch of other papers. Though I can hardly read the thing I realize it's basically a form ensuring I don't go run my mouth about hanging out with Nick and Joe. I'm pretty sure one said something like "I did not have sexual relations with Joe" and the one under it said "If I DID have sexual relations with Joe I solemnly swear that he was a very good lover" Clearly I'm having issue with this because A.) I can't fucking read it and B.) I can not sign this and promise I won't talk about what happened. IS THIS MAN INSANE? I MUST GO BACK TO MY ROOM AND TELL TWITTER RIGHT THE FUCK NOW?! I'm sitting there holding the pen frantically trying to figure out how I'm gonna get out of this. He can't MAKE me sign it can he? I can just go, can't I? But I'm scared, like he'll hurt me if I try to leave, or that Don Creeps will pop out and chloroform me or something. I'm on the verge of a meltdown when everyone shows up, all three boys, Big Rob, Danielle, Denise, and they're all super sweet and calm me down and eventually shoo me off, having distracted the suit guy enough not to notice I didn't sign a damn thing.
Then I leave the room and the dream changes.
Wow. I... I have issues.