Hello, Newman.
Apparently we lived in Missouri, and Newman was our neighbor. Only god knows why, but Newman kidnapped me and my husband. We were held hostage in his house overnight; we weren’t tied up or anything but for some reason were unable to leave. Newman wasn’t mean to us, actually I think he was sweet on me. o.O So why did he kidnap my husband too? Anyway, in the morning, we detained him somehow and made our escape back to our house, whereupon we realized that we needed to go grocery shopping and said we should have just eaten breakfast at Newman’s before we left.
Again, I hardly ever watch tv, had not seen anything with this actor for eons. The last thing I had watched was Wallace and Grommit (Curse of the WereRabbit) and a really unfortunate glimpse of America’s Funniest Home Videos, which featured —-of course!—- the infamous and ever-popular groin injury shots followed closely by Babies With Something Stuck In Their Butts—-oh I kid you not—-every idiot with access to a camera, a baby, and a pretzel is trying to win a million dollars—- at which point, lamenting the existence of tv itself, I turned to my husband and asked, Why do we still live in this country?!? We have to move to New Zealand!
But I didn’t dream of THAT; no, I dreamt of Newman. ??? okay.
Unless… unless Newman is symbolic of America! We are trying to get away from a certain aspect of the American populace, symbolized very well by Mr. Newman there, but when we get to this dream location, we discover it is out of milk. Yeah well it’s either that or tropical disease or something; can never be simple you know.
