Saturday, November 05, 2011

My Ryan Gosling dream last night. For some weeks now I have been 'researching' a story about people who dream about Ryan Gosling. But then there's always some more pressing deadline and I never get round to it. I'm basically really sick of my crappy life, earning my living by scrabbling away in a collection of low-stakes, high-turnover gigs for 16 hours a day, and invoicing for $30 or $100 or $200 or $300 at a time. In an all-time lifestyle low, yesterday I bought Home Brand fish fingers.

However, I decided to collect all my Ryan Gosling dream research into a Tumblr – because, where else, LOL? I put it on BuzzFeed and it went voooooooiral.

Last night I had a Ryan Gosling dream of my own. If you know anything about my struggles with a cat who likes to poo on the floor next to his perfectly clean litter box, you will perhaps find it more understandable.

I was in a very fancy hotel suite getting drunk with some of my friends and suddenly there was a knock on the door. My co-worker Kane answered and it was Ryan Gosling!

He sat down at the table and poured himself a scotch like he'd been there all night. I realised he was already very drunk – well, drunker than me, at any rate – and looked very dishevelled.

But what was annoying me was that Kane was clearly trying very hard to impress Gosling because he was acting way more bro-like than usual, cracking jokes, addressing conversation only to Gosling, et cetera. In the dream I found this infuriating.

Then Gosling got up from the table, went into a corner, pulled down his pants and, with zero shame, pooed on the floor. I was disgusted and said to Kane, "You clean that up – you've been brown-nosing him all night."

Kane refused to clean up Gosling's poo, so I had to get some paper towels and do it myself. My feeling of disappointment and resentment was almost intolerable.

Gosling of the Notebook or Gosling of Lars?
Neither. Maybe more like the Gosling of Blue Valentine.
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