Dear Paris Hilton

I had a dream about you last night, which was kind of weird because you’re one of those celebrities that I don’t really have a strong opinion of. Okay, I’ll be the first to admit I dont actually find you as repulsive as others out there seem to, and on a good day I might even do it with you, were I not in a healthy relationship and all that. Just dont do any more of those “camel toe” poses in pink dresses. Actually, that was kinda hot.

So, anyways, this dream. Basically it boiled down to there being a house party, and the fact that I was lucky enough (or perhaps the other way round), to have a lovely lass (not you) enticing me back to my bedroom. The lucky girl decided she’d better pop to the ladies room, no doubt to scrub up ready for a night of hot lovemaking, and I couldn’t but help feel a little sorry for the two of you that got left behind. I suppose if I was thinking straight I would’ve asked you all in for some dirty four-way action, but I wasn’t. Instead, I decided to give you both a goodnight kiss before I buggered off with this other chick. The first of you two “leftovers” looked a little like Angelina Jolie. Fuck, could she kiss. We snogged, she left. If I hadn’t knocked one off before I went to bed I might’ve ended up in a nocturnal emission disaster.

As soon as she departed, you popped up. I was quite surprised because it was you, Paris Hilton. I’m not in the habit of having celebs want to kiss me, you see. Perhaps having someone tell me I looked a little like Christian Bale a few weeks ago boosted my ego a little. It must’ve been only a little boost though or I maybe would’ve dreamt about a real actress or a musician, but beggars can’t be choosers. So, we got down to kissing, and to be honest you were pretty clumsy. Perhaps I was disappointed because I’d had such an amazing one from the other chick, but it really was a bit of a let down.

Anyways. To the weird part – as we were kissing I could feel something in my mouth as we exchanged oral secretions. There were two of these globs, but I wasn’t too freaked out by them for some reason, so I continued on. After we finished, I casually passed these globdules into my hand, so you wouldn’t see. Upon looking, I saw they were lumps of coagulated blood. I looked in the mirror and saw my face smeared with blood. Umm, ew?

I can’t but help think that this dream and your huge feet are some kind of metaphor for your poor kissing.

Disappointedly yours,
Dr. “Would Still Hit It” Nik