Last night was repeated proof that I watch too much Dateline and 48 Hours and other related news murder mystery shows. I fell asleep with a Dateline on about a swindling Indianapolis man (Purdue graduate, of course) who faked his own death to avoid creditors. However, my subconscious took me in another more pleasant direction.
I was dreaming of trying to hook my girlfriend (Amanda, shout out to you) up with my ex-boyfriend, who just happened to be Mike Rowe. For those of you not familiar, he's from the Discovery Channel's Dirty Jobs and those Ford Commercials (see picture below). However, instead of him hooking up with her, we ended up back together. He got down on his knee to propose just as he got a phone call. The phone call lead to a helicopter taking him away.
Just as I was wondering what was going on, Amanda explained to me that Mike's first wife had disappeared 10 years ago from "Indianapolis County, FL" ( I even saw a map in my head like it was on Dateline) and that they just had a lead on her whereabouts. "How could you have dated him before and not know that?" Amanda asked me in my REM state.
Then I woke up.
While any dream with Mike Rowe is a step in a positive direction, I think I still prefer dreaming about my mom.
4 comments:
HAHA! Funny....I always have the most random celebrity dreams too. They never involve actually dream-worthy celebrities either, just really weird ones.
p.s. I was watching Dateline too. I am obsessed with those shows. Except for the 48 hours "mystery" ones, where you actually never know who really did it. Those piss me off.
I have a feeling that Keith Morrison is going to start providing a voiceover in my dreams! I never liked the shows much before until extended cable got us the ID channel.
Hmmmm, it would take more than murder to throw mike Rowe outta my bed. Even though he is kinda old.
You know that I have a crush on Mike Rowe, right? I also like the dude from Cash Cab.
I'm super jealous that you can remember your dreams that well. Mine disappear while I am brushing my teeth.
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