Sunday, May 29, 2011


If Henry David Thoreau was right – “Dreams are the touchstone of our character” - then I must be a slut. I love to sleep. Or, to be more precise, I love to dream. And while others may dream of visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads, I dream of sex with celebrities. Not just celebrities, either, but sometimes the characters they play. Some times I wake up more exhausted than when I went to bed…….but always with a big smile upon my face.

I never know who will be there to greet me when I cross over to DreamLand. One night, David Letterman loved me. And loved me. And loved me. He was so crazy about me that his behavior bordered on stalking. “Be mine,” he begged. “I’ll never leave you,” he promised. And he didn’t – not till the sun came up and the alarm went off.

Now, when the “Late Show” comes on, I smile in amusement. While Dave flirts with Drew or chortles with Amy Sedaris, I know who his heart really belongs to.

Then there was Joey. You know, Joey from “Friends”. Not Matt LeBlanc, the actor, but Joey Tribbiani, the character. Oh, he was cute and funny and sexy, too. And not nearly as dumb as his Friends made him seem. We never crawled out of bed, he and I. He was delightful and I had much more fun with him than I ever had with any of the other members of that cast.

It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it. And do it, I do! I’ve shared my sex dreams with men and women alike, political celebrities, religious figure heads, movie stars, newsmen and personal physicians. I’m so promiscuous in my dreams that sometimes I’m embarrassed to look myself in the eyes when I brush my teeth. But most mornings, it’s just hard to wipe that silly grin off my face.

While I don’t really have any control about who visits me during the night, I try to avoid daytime contact with anyone I would not want to sleep with. For instance, for the past month, I have avoided watching news reports about that bouffant-haired governor of Illinois.

And I have never watched "The O'Reilly Factor."

My friends are green. Cindy and I race to see who can be the first to sleep with Alan Shore. Every week we'd watch “Boston Legal.” We laughed at Denny Crane’s one-liners, “I already have my penis packed” he declared just a couple of weeks ago. But when we talked about the latest episode, what we were really doing was priming ourselves for a dream romp with Alan Shore. We’ve sworn that the first to accomplish this deed must call the other and Kiss and Tell. Maybe we will toast our victory on some high-rise balcony with an expensive cigar and Brandy.

So, even though I’ve never missed an episode, I nonetheless have rented the entire last season of “Boston Legal” DVD’s. I play them every night, at bedtime. First I pour myself a little glass of Bailey’s Mint Chocolate Irish Cream to loosen my imagination and invite sleep to come knocking sooner. Then I turn on the DVD player, and lay my head gently on my pillow. My Schnoodle, unsuspecting of the debauchery to follow, cuddles up against me. We close our eyes.

So far, Alan has eluded me. I’ve considered renting “White Palace”, but I have to be careful there. I could end up with James Spader, instead of Alan Shore.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

c2009 Linda S Amstutz


Wendy said...

This cracked me up. I have these weird celebrity dreams, but not sexy ones. (oh well.) My husband refers to them as "Celebrities on Parade" and he rolls his eyes when I try to tell him my adventures from the night.

anotherlinda said...

Isn't it funny how we incorporate celebrities into our dreams? And I wonder if any guys have celebrity dreams? Judging from the popularity of Britney, I bet they do!!!