Interpretation of Dreams I

So I yell back to Robert Evans, "Robert Evans, are you taking the bus?" "Yeah." "Which bus?" "Haven't you ever taken the bus downtown before? The Grey Goose."
Damnit, The Kid, you can't ride a bottle of vodka downtown. Uptown maybe, but not downtown.
(Picture in B&W to deflect any of the orange glow that emanates from The Kid's skin.)
Labels: blue collar, dreams, grey goose, ontario, robert evans, sigmund freud, vodka
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