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sexyscholarI finally had a Rupert dream. o_O
So, I meet Rupert at this bar. When I say "met," I mean that we had agreed to meet up there. I don't think we were dating, but we were definitely chummy with each other.
Anyway, we're at the bar, and they play live music and karaoke -- so it's like this hybrid of the two. Rupert looks at me and he's like, "We should do a song together." So I say, "What are you, high?" And he goes, "Yeah I am, actually." O_o
So I laugh and say, "Sure. Why not? What do you want to sing?" And he says, "I'm not singing anything -- you're going to sing, and I'm going to play the guitar. I wanna put the lessons to use."
(Note: Rupert, if you ever start playing the guitar I'm afraid I'm going to have to take legal action against you.)
I say, "Okay, fine. So what are we doing?" He says, "A Pat Benatar song." "Why Pat Benatar?" I ask. "Because it just feels right," he tells me.
This is all kinds of WTFery and FTWery.
So I pick "Hit Me With Your Best Shot."
Anyway, we do the song -- and we nail it; I mean, we're really good. The other people at the bar are cheering for us, and we do a couple more songs. I think there was even some Foghat in there.
FOGHAT.
So, I finished another song and, plied with way too much tequila, I snog Rupert like the drunken idiot I've become. AND HE SNOGS BACK. This face-mashy, grabby, really wet snog, and I'm getting all tingly in the nethers, and I think he is too. Unfortunately, he's eaten something that makes my stomach go all flip-flop, and not in the good way either. I tell him that I think I'm going to be sick, and I run out of the bar and let go somewhere behind the place.
Rupert comes running out behind me, and he holds my hair out of my face while I puke. O_O He's rubbing my back and I hear him calling someone on his mobile and telling them to come pick us up. Later, a car pulls up and he helps me in and he gives the driver an address that isn't mine.
And then I woke up. With my heart going at 18976817461874 beats per second.
Nngh.
ETA: Today,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fmh told me that I was grinning and laughing in my sleep, and he woke me up to ask me what I was dreaming about. I replied sleepily, "snails," and then I went back to sleep.
I don't remember any of this. LOLZ.
OMGWTFSNAILS.
So, I meet Rupert at this bar. When I say "met," I mean that we had agreed to meet up there. I don't think we were dating, but we were definitely chummy with each other.
Anyway, we're at the bar, and they play live music and karaoke -- so it's like this hybrid of the two. Rupert looks at me and he's like, "We should do a song together." So I say, "What are you, high?" And he goes, "Yeah I am, actually." O_o
So I laugh and say, "Sure. Why not? What do you want to sing?" And he says, "I'm not singing anything -- you're going to sing, and I'm going to play the guitar. I wanna put the lessons to use."
(Note: Rupert, if you ever start playing the guitar I'm afraid I'm going to have to take legal action against you.)
I say, "Okay, fine. So what are we doing?" He says, "A Pat Benatar song." "Why Pat Benatar?" I ask. "Because it just feels right," he tells me.
This is all kinds of WTFery and FTWery.
So I pick "Hit Me With Your Best Shot."
Anyway, we do the song -- and we nail it; I mean, we're really good. The other people at the bar are cheering for us, and we do a couple more songs. I think there was even some Foghat in there.
FOGHAT.
So, I finished another song and, plied with way too much tequila, I snog Rupert like the drunken idiot I've become. AND HE SNOGS BACK. This face-mashy, grabby, really wet snog, and I'm getting all tingly in the nethers, and I think he is too. Unfortunately, he's eaten something that makes my stomach go all flip-flop, and not in the good way either. I tell him that I think I'm going to be sick, and I run out of the bar and let go somewhere behind the place.
Rupert comes running out behind me, and he holds my hair out of my face while I puke. O_O He's rubbing my back and I hear him calling someone on his mobile and telling them to come pick us up. Later, a car pulls up and he helps me in and he gives the driver an address that isn't mine.
And then I woke up. With my heart going at 18976817461874 beats per second.
Nngh.
ETA: Today,
fmh told me that I was grinning and laughing in my sleep, and he woke me up to ask me what I was dreaming about. I replied sleepily, "snails," and then I went back to sleep. I don't remember any of this. LOLZ.
OMGWTFSNAILS.
