hahaha you guys are hilarious
I had a dream last night that I was apart of a british crime family. And for some reason, everyone, including me, spoke in a british accent. As I'm writing this, I can't help but say the words as if I were Ricky Gervais.
Anyway, my first or most likely next assignment was to find this woman, ya. This woman supposedly knew too much about our operations and I was suppose to find her and kill her. So I set out with my partner, who by the way was really hyped about seeing that new movie with John Travolta; almost annoyingly so. I swear, this fucker wouldn't stop going on about it.
"You know they said it was his best character since 'Pulp Fiction'? Since bloody Pulp Fiction!"
I began to think to myself "Obviously these critics haven't seen Face/Off or Swordfish."
He was like "I hope we find her before 9:30."
I replied "What the **** is so important about 9:30?" and he said "I've already bought my tickets. I don't want them to go to waste. Look, I bought one for you as well."
After an annoyingly long chat, we finally hit up the woman's apartment and she's not there. We begin ransacking her place looking for clues of her whereabouts when we hear a loud screech coming from the parking lot. I look out the window and yell "It's her!" We quickly run outside to see her ramming into our car and completely fucking it up. Then she pulls away, floors it, and runs a red light.
I call the boss and tell him what happened. For some reason, I was expecting him to be british or at least has a british accent, but instead he was Jamaican. Too be honest, I think I was working for Sampson Simpson! Anyway, he sends us a car and tells us to come back for a debriefing. "****!" I look and see my partner looking at his tickets. I grab them and rip them up.
On the way back I tell my partner to drop me off at my car. He asks me why and I tell him to go **** himself, thats why. I just need a drink, thats all.
I drive up to my favorite spot, an irish pub. I walk in and say what's up to Tony, the italian barkeep (which was also weird). I look up at the soccer game and see that Arsenal is winning against Chelsea. I yell at Tony to pour me up a carbomb in commemoration. He's like "I'll do you one better. I'll take one with you." I fake an irish accent and say "At a boy."
We cheers our drinks to Arsenal and take them down. As soon as I look back up, I see the fucking woman I'm searching for exiting the bathroom. She was walking out ultra slow with sunglasses and hoody, but even with that 'disguise' I knew it was her. "**** me" I mutter to myself. I set my glass down, wait till she has sat down and walk over. In slow mo, I'm thinking "Do I just pop her now? Naw...even these people wouldn't turn a blind eye to that." Instead I pull out my desert eagle and place it on her back and tell her to slowly get up and not to try anything. She turns and takes off her sunglasses and I'm exclaim "Anale?!"
That's when my dogs wake me up by barking loud as ****. I go and give them bones to calm them down.
Anyway, I get back to sleep and I have a dream about watching the superbowl. So far it's the greatest game ever. It's in the 4th quater and the score is 57-53 Colts. But as I'm lighting a bowl with my lucky "Lady Luck" lighter, Payton gets his hand broken and they have to send in Curtis Painter. I start laughing incredibly hard in the faces of all the Colts fans, pointing and singing "You guys are looo-sers! You guys are looo-sers!" At that point, it's Purdue greatest QB against Purdue's worst QB. The games over when Curtis throws his forth pick 6 in a row and the Saints win by an astronomical margin a 100 or something to 57.