Friday, 24 February 2012
At the moment, my bedtime read is Tim winton's Breath which is knocking me out and giving me the sweetest dreams.
Last night I dreamt of Lana Del Rey. I swam up a slim bright blue canal towards an exclusive golf club. When I reached my destination I noticed her, sat chatting to a crowd in slow motion, with no sound coming from her. She sat, with her legs up on a mustard yellow velvet sofa and she wore a white dress. I emerged from the water fully dressed and completely dry and she looked across at me in the same slow motion. Her mouth still moving but her eyes stayed on me.
We didn't speak but I knew that we were in love. I walked past her and entered the gift shop where they were selling a huge stack of signed Lana Del Rey candles. They were in the shape of her bum and the small of her back, with a wick at the top and a golf tee sticking out of the top. So you could either light it and watch it burn or whack balls off of it. Unfortunately, I remembered I had left my children somewhere and woke myself up.
Hopefully my subconcious will enable us to meet again. Until then, Lana, I love you.
Watch the SNL performance that upset America...
Now watch Kristen Wiig hilariously defend that performance. (Skip to 6.00)