My Dreams Are Political

This is Carla Bruni.

The best thing about her? She's a pretty whore.

Ouch! alright, that was uncalled for. Sorry, sorry. Slash the pretty.

I don't really care for this woman much and since ever I've only heard about her twice or thrice and It's all because she married the president of France. (Oh yeah, I know my first ladies. I'm cultured like that)

Which makes it surprising as yesterday, my subconscious mind revealed that she is more substantial in my life that I thought otherwise.

I friggin dreamt of her. (Seriously, my dreams are so Hollywood. Remember Pattinson?)

The dream started with me in my brown swishy detective coat. Investigating a crime scene. Naturally it was her lying there cold and bloodied.

And like most of the times when trying to rehash dreams, I forgot the parts in the middle.

What I can say safely is that with her death in the dreamworld, and with my brilliance and skill as a detective(mostly because of this) it was uncovered that the french president was a serial model murderer. WOWza!

The story concluded with a view of her updated wikipedia page showing how her death led to France being leaderless. and I woke up happily ever after.

God, will I be a great successor of J.K. effing Rowlings.

The moral of this experience. I make people better in my head. I mean cmon. they are not any better in real life.

Dirty politicians and their attention-craving gold-digging pretty trophies for wives don't make the world sexxxy.

DOWN WITH THEM!!!