Gerard Butler showed up at my front door yesterday and THIS is what happened!
By Lisa René LeClair on December 13, 2013
I had this crazy dream last night where Gerard Butler showed up at my front door wearing nothing but a shit eatin' grin and a pair of rubber gloves. At first, I couldn't believe my eyes... But there he was, one of my numerous free passes, standing right in front of me. "Come in," I said, while enticing him with my best come hither me look. So he walks inside, and as I'm telling him to take off his shoes, I realize that he's not wearing any. Then there's this moment, where our eyes meet and we share a quick laugh. I giggle like a schoolgirl as he takes my hand, and we walk down the hall, my nervous fingers tapping on the palm of his padded rubber glove.
And then it dawns on me... Who wears rubber gloves when they're standing naked in a strangers house, And why was he even wearing any, because it's not even cold outside; and even if it WAS cold... Those are rubber gloves! So I ask him. I say, "Gerard, why are you wearing those gloves? Are you planning to kill me and bury me in the back yard with a shovel you have hidden in your trunk?" But he just laughs in his sexy Scottish way and tells me, "It was a bit chilly in my car and I left my driving gloves at home." But I don't believe him, because he still doesn't take them off. So now I'm getting really nervous and I say, "I think maybe you should leave," which totally pisses me off, because I've waited my whole life for one of my free passes to show up naked at my front door, and it was finally happening!
So I'm shaking, right? Because I'm afraid he's going to kill me and because it's Gerard-Friggin-Butler! But he's still wearing those gloves and I have a huge back yard; so I decide to lie. And as I'm looking into those smoky green eyes to tell him that I have to pee, I realize that I really DO have to pee. So I excuse myself and run down the hall to the bathroom, but not before locking the front door and taking the key (just in case).
I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and call my husband at work, "Ricky!" I whisper, "Gerard Butler is here and I'm about to cash in on one of my free passes; but I think maybe he wants to kill me instead and I'm not sure what I should do?!" And as I'm waiting for his response, my phone starts to lose reception and I can barely hear him calling my name, "Lisa, Lisa... LISA!"
And then I see him; my 53-year-old husband, with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and the smell of a man who hasn't showered in days. And I think to myself, "What a Wonderful World (This Could Be)!"
Sad news to report about my @GerardButler follow up dream... http://on.fb.me/1kJbHTb
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