My Adventures with a Sleazy Agent

This is what I dreamed the other night

I'm doing research for my blog. I'm looking in a book rather than the internet. I come across something about ABBA. 

Now I don't think I was actually researching ABBA. It's more like what I was researching led me to this information about ABBA

What I read is that this woman in ABBA did kinky things with this sleazy agent.  

I'll try to keep this PG and just say he did perverted things to her ear.

I feel though as if I wish I hadn't read the information. It's very TMI for me.

Also, while researching, I have this idea that this sleazy agent now works for Julian McMahon. I try doing more research to find out if it's true, but can't find any definite information.

I decide to write about the ABBA incident in my blog entry. I don't have a computer with me so I kind of just write inside my head. I plan to say something like "While researching I unfortunately came across information I wish I had never found"

That's very nice of me, huh. Here I am unhappy that I found this information, and now I plan to share it with everyone who reads my blog

In my dreams, I often struggle to write things down on unreliable materials. For example, I might try writing down my whole dream on a foggy car window. In this dream, I tried writing notes about my blog entry on a tub of butter. It didn't work and I gave up.

Then for some reason.....

Tim and I are at this hotel. That's not too strange. But we happen to be at the hotel where the ABBA incident happened. To make things worse, we're staying in the exact same hotel room in which the event took place.

The sleazy agent for some reason is staying right next door to us. He comes knocking at our door. 

Tim kind of slinks to the background for the rest of the dream. I don't know. Maybe he want to sleep or something? Maybe he was out on the balcony looking at the view.

I talk to the agent. I'm scared of him...nervous. He gives me the creeps. So, what do I do? I stupidly let him know I know what happened in our room. He looks disturbed by this somewhat which makes me more scared. We say our goodbyes and he leaves.

Then I notice our door doesn't have a chain lock. I feel really nervous about that. I start thinking we should change hotel rooms. What if this sleazy agent can get into our room? And then he does.

He walks right in.

I'm unclear of what happens exactly next.

All I know is that I suddenly decide to stop being scared of him and instead audition for him. Maybe he can be MY agent too.

I start to sing.

I sing "Tomorrow" from Annie. I sing pretty good, but I'm embarrassed to have picked such a childish song.

I start to sing Susan Boyle's song, and I don't do so well with that. I pick another song from Les Miserables. I sing "On My Own". I sing pretty good. The sleazy agent says he'll sign me up. All I need is an American Express Card. I ask why I need that, and he says it's for the world's biggest boob job. I can't figure out if the breast implants are for me—that he likes my singing, but my breasts are too small. Or he needs breast implants for someone else and will sign on any client as long as they have money to spare.