I’ve been watching a lot of the show “Bullshit”, hosted by Penn & Teller. It’s a really great show if you like using your brain and learning different sides to different arguments and, personally, I really appreciate the humour and the dynamic between loud, abrasive Penn and quiet, mute, adorable Teller.
Any good performer should be inspired by good performers and, since I loved the characters Penn & Teller have developed over their many years performing together, I decided to learn a bit more about them. Once you fall down a rabbit hole on the internet it’s hard to crawl out…
…needless to say, I’ve been learning, watching and thinking a lot about Penn Jillette and Teller.
I don’t tend to have many dreams at night, save for a few days a month where my body goes all crazy and becomes something I don’t know, so when I have them (and remember them) it’s a special thing. Over the years my dreams have evolved from weird, disjointed brain spasms, to stories involving real people in semi-likely scenarios. Last night I had a dream that my friend married a prince and we went on a tour of their castle-house. Weird, sure, but it mostly made sense.
Last week, after a Bullshit episode and a few too many Penn Points, I fell asleep and had a dream. One of THOSE dreams. A hot, passionate, loin-quivering, “oh dear god I miss the touch of a human” sort of dream that, for me, are rarer than blue moons.
I had a sex dream about Penn Jillette.
No, I won’t get into details and no, Teller wasn’t there. It was just me and the big guy. Hot. Heavy. Angrygentle sex. Dreams about Brad Pitt or Johnny Soandso? No thanks. Give me an overweight magician.
I don’t know why I dreamt about him; before this I didn’t find him super hot. Sure, he was a tall, big guy (my weakness) with long hair (a secret love) with a good sense of humour and an intelligent, fun love of sex (if you can’t laugh at sex, you can’t have good sex)…but I didn’t see him and think “oh yes mama like”. But after! After this dream any time I look at him I get a semi.* And the more I watch him and learn about him, the more turned on I get. It’s fucking weird, guys.
I Tweeted @ him. I said something akin to “Had this super hot sex dream about @pennjillette.” And, readers, HE REPLIED. My celebrity sex crush replied @ me! Penn Jillette, the man who had wrapped his arms around me from behind and stuck things places, said “Oh that makes me so happy. Thanks.” I MADE HIM HAPPY.
My mind was reeling and my insides were fluttering and I was blushing like a virgin after her first dry hump. The improvisor in me immediately went into “make this a character” mode; I envisioned a superfan who made videos talking him up and trying to impress him with her magic via the internet (btw I still haven’t rule this out. COPYRIGHTED, BITCHES.) I included bits of it in the stand-up set I did two nights later and am still getting teased by my co-workers this week. I know it’s silly, but I can’t help who I love.
Everything I read or see about him just reinforces the fact that I want to do very bad things with him. Hell, tonight I was watching a video he made and he said something like “I want to see everyone naked” and I nearly died. Everyone? He likes everyone naked?! This chubby girl has a chance!
Look, I know this is all ridiculous and over-share. Maybe I just really need to get laid and Penn is a good distraction from my other crushes I secretly pine after and fall asleep/cry thinking of. Maybe I’m still upset at the fact that the only thing I failed in high school was juggling and, no matter how hard I try or how much I practice, I still fucking suck at it. Maybe I’m overdoing it because this is my first real celebrity crush. I never had pictures of models or actors on my bedroom wall when I was a kid! I never found them interesting or cute, so I never developed these innocent crushes. But now, at almost 30, my first celebrity crush has me hooked in a very very adult way and I’m not sure how to quit. I’m not sure I want to quit.
I keep trying to go back to that dream. I feel half-obsessed and make up fantasies that he’ll ask me to come to Vegas and meet him and we could just, you know, hang out or whatever. This won’t turn into a stalker thing** but maybe this WILL turn into a lifelong crush. Like old women who still lust after Bruce Springsteen, I’ll be at his book signings begging him to sign my tits as security drags me out. I’m okay with it.
Where does Teller fit into all of this? He gets me off in a purely intellectual way. I mean, aside from directing a few shows, the guy has made a career out of not speaking! Think of what you could learn from him! They could tag-team me in so many ways on so many levels, I get dehydrated just thinking about it.
Ah Penn. Maybe one day our paths will cross. Maybe one day you’ll forget about your wife and children and fuck me all angrygentle-like. Call me.
* Please note I don’t have a penis. It’s more of a lady-semi.
** I don’t have enough money