Dorian and I were happy to discover The West Wing has recently been added to Netflix. We'd only seen three seasons, so the chance to watch the show again led to a bit of a marathon yesterday. Of course, this did have an affect on Dorian's dreams.
"You're up ten points in exit polls...'Merica has spoken, you're sexy...No! Don't leave me to become President, the apartment is so expensive. (Wails) I'll have to live in a box!"
"I don't want to be President, sweetie."
"Ok, then, I'll be President, so we can live together...Jim can't be Press Secretary."
"Why?"
"He looks weird without a beard! All our friends need beards. We're like the gnomes of Appleton."
"I'll get the hats made up right away."
"Nope, can't, not enough blood."
"Wow, you're really taking this old school, aren't you?"
"Yeah, have to if you're the Presidents of Wisconsin...and...uh-huh, we can take Rhinelander, too...and uh...yeah, take Michigan, too, make it one big state. Take their people. Huh, then we could make the hats. I really, really want a beer."
"I think there's one in the fridge."
(Dorian sits up, opens eyes.) "WHO? REALLY?" (He grabs my head.) "You descended into my dream like a sweet, glorious Valkyrie of beer!"
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