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If someone were to Incept you, the first level of the dream would be your bedroom (the walls covered in the most amazing Jon Hamm posters you’ve ever seen that somehow seem to good to be real, but then you dream-remember how you dream-spent three dream-weeks on dream-eBay dream-finding all of dream-them). A train would come roaring through, conducted by Jon Slattery in blackface and one of those train engineer hats. The second level would be the offices of Cooper Draper Sterling Pryce where you would drink a vodka on the rocks while staring out the window at an impossible cityscape that kind of looked like New York if a blurry photograph of New York were printed on a piece of cardboard and mounted at an angle, which you will realize is exactly what you are looking at because you are on a dream soundstage. Paul Kinsey will walk in and blow pipe smoke in your face. The third level of your dream is the same snow fortress as in the movie Inception, except that instead of your father on his death bed, it will be Jon Hamm on his death bed, and instead of a pinwheel in the dream safe full of secrets that is actually a metaphor for real secrets, your dream safe will just have an actual pinwheel in it. The kick is someone playing Peggy Lee’s “Is That All There Is” on a transistor radio as you drive your Cadillac off the Pan Am building. And purgatory, of course, will just be 9 eternal months of Rubicon reruns. Goodnight! (Image via TheHighDefinite. Click through to enlarge.)
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You forgot the part with the threatening finger-bang. A rare miss, Gabe.
I’d eat that Hamm.
I sleep with a cardboard cutout of that lady sleeping next to Jon Hamm, which is next to a cardboard cutout of me sleeping next to that lady sleeping next to Jon Hamm, which is next to the couch because that’s where I sleep since my wife got fed up with my creepy cardboard cutout fetish.
Personally, I would like to be the meat in Hamm-Gosling cardboard cut out sandwich.
C’mon Gabe. THIS is purgatory and you know it.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Sleep! That’s where I’m an advertising executive!
In my sleep, Mexican Chefs make me salsa fresca and guacamole.
Whatever man, my boyfriend Don Dick Draper sleeps in a tux. You don’t gotta be all crazy JEAL about it. Sheesh! Liva ya life!
i’ve always said that guy’s a bit two-dimensional
Don Draper has ran out of ideas “Why don’t we put my face on a pillow”
Yes that is how I sleep. Your point being?
Gabe is jealous, he wants his own goofball pillow
In my dreams Lost ended with a satisfying denouement.
She is an amateur. This is how I roll with my MANLLOWS:
Oh, is that Etsy shop back? Yay!
I’d run screaming away from that.
My mom slept with a cardboard cutout of Milton Berle for years.
What’s weird is that, from what I understand, Jon Hamm sleeps on a cardboard cutout of a bed.
I once bought my girlfriend a Jimmy Fallon pillow from ebay…she LOVED it.
Gabe, did you see Sleep No More too?
The only way Sleep No More could have been improved was with more Jon Hamm cardboard cutouts everywhere.