Heather turned to me and said…

Kay Parker was the first porn actress I saw in action. The movie was My Private Teacher, and she was Miss Lillian Foxworth, private teacher extraordianaire. I was in love with the busty goddess immediately.

Urshi Digard, star of numerous ’70s sexploitation flicks, is another one I crushed on as a lad. How I pulled her out of my subconscious for my little fantasy shindig (I’m getting to that), I will never know or care.

Now, there’s a reason why I have introduced you to those two lovely ladies. They were guest stars in a dream I had a couple of weeks ago.

You ever have one of those dreams that is so good, that it just stays with you? Oh my, my, my. Boy, that one was a doozey.

I knew it was a dream immediately because it started it so good from the get go. It was me, the two aforementioned ladies, some candles and some massage oil. Could it get any better?

Impossibly, yes.

After spending the time of my life (or so I thought) with the two buxom beauties, I headed off to meet one of my friends at a store he owns. To get to his store, I have to drive (in real life), but as dreams go, it was just a short walk from my house. Oddly, though, I had to cut through a outdoor pavilion to get there. There isn’t really a pavilion of any sort near my buddie’s shop, but there was in my dream, so I rolled with it. The place was filling up with people, so I asked a guy what was going on. He simply told me that there was a great band playing tonight, and I should come. I said sure, and continued on my merry way.

Coming up to my friend’s store, I noticed a girl on roller skates, skating in circles in front of a nail salon that is the store right before you get to my pal’s. I knew immediately who it was before I even saw her face.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey yourself,” she replied.

“You’re Heather Graham,” I said.

“I am,” she replied.

“I like your work.”

“Thank you.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m waiting for my friends. We’re going to the show.” She nodded to the window of the nail salon, where her friends were apparently inside.

I looked in the window to see who Heather hung out with. And if my dream weren’t a 10 before, it certainly was now. Inside the salon getting all prettied up (not that they needed it) was Emma Caulfield, Alyssa Milano, Rose McGowan and Hollie Marie Combs.

Now Emma Cauflield I can see being there. She and Charisma Carpenter were the hottest women on “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. But I can’t fathom for the life of me why the other three were there. Sure, they are hot as hell, but I have never seen one episode of “Charmed”, nor have I ever had any interest. Either way, who am I to question goodness.

“Holy shit, that’s Anya!” I said. (Anya is Caulfield’s character’s name on “Buffy”.)

Heather looked in the window. “Holy shit, you’re right!” And she giggled. I really like her. She has a great sense of humor.

“You think she would mind if I asked for a picture with her?”

“Nah. I’ll even take it. You have a camera on you?”

“Shit, no,” I said, sad.

“Good thing. It would have been creepy if you did. I know they have one next door, in the barbershop,” Heather said.

“Really?” Without waiting for her reply, I went into the barbershop and, sure enough, they had a camera. But, to my dismay, when I came outside and went over to the nail salon, I noticed it was empty.

“They went to lunch,” Heather said from behind me.


“But we can hang out, if you want,” she suggested.

“That sounds good,” I said. I mean, really, who would say no to that?

So Heather and I talked a bit, me sitting Indian style in the middle of the parking lot (that’s right, I said Indian style) as she skated around me. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I know it was fantastic conversation.

Soon enough, the four women emerged from the nail salon and headed over to us.

“Everyone, this is my new friend, Stewie. Stewie, this is everyone,” Heather said, knowing I knew their names already.

“Hi Stewie!” They all said at once. I probably blushed.

“You girls ready?” Heather asked, and they all gave the affirmative that they were.

Heather turned to me. “Hey, why don’t you go to the concert with us? I have an extra ticket.”

The other women piped in, saying I should really go because the show was going to be great, and they really wanted me to join them.

“Sure,” I said.

“Great! Well let’s go, then, the show is about to start,” Heather said.

We all started to head to the pavilion, excited about the prospects that lay ahead (at least I was excited about the prospects).

“By the way,” I said, “who’s playing?”

Heather turned to me and said…

Best. Dream. Ever.

0 0 vote
Article Rating
Notify of

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Mykl Gee

Dream on ! – Aerosmith…


You need to get laid.


But that was an awesome dream. I have a total crush on HMC. I don’t know why.

Sparkling Red

Def Leppard rocks. And if I had to kiss a girl, you know, under duress, Heather Graham might not be so bad. ;;)


Sounds like that imaginary shower scene in Risky Business to me.


Oh that’s too funny! Dreams can be so much fun.

dorothy gale

Didn’t I take you to see Def Leppard ?


Snooze, I wasn’t even on any Melatonin, either, which is shocking because those give me wicked dreams.

Joy, no, you took me to Monsters of Rock, Floyd and Ratt/Kix/Britney Fox. All of which are blog worthy. 😆


You are teh gay.