another day, another dream

I can't get Thursday's dream out of my head. I can remember almost every line that was spoken, every scene that was filmed, every position that the actors got into. I've been trying to write it all down. While I'm off work, I may try and put it together as a proper screenplay and see if I can sell it. I've often thought my imagination could make me money, although I hadn't expected my first idea to be a film in which an interstellar hooker bangs her way around the Universe, but sex sells as they say, especially in the porn industry.

If I rent two DVDs a day from the 'adult entertainment' section of the local shop, will they understand that I'm merely researching the current styles and trends in the genre so I can tailor my upcoming screenplay accordingly? Or will they just think I'm a pervert? I'd hate to walk into the shop next month and have women say to each other - "That's the one Janet. That's him. Filthy bastard. Masturbates more often than he breathes. Watch him, Janet, and lock the girls away until they're forty."
Ah, stuff 'em. Do I care what they think? A bunch of middle-aged, over-weight, under-sexed, chocoholic, leather-skinned sourpuss hags and has-beens? Women whose only sniff of sex in the past ten years has been sitting in a warm bath with some Chablis and a second-hand 'racy novel'?

Actually, that's an idea - I wonder if Mills and Boon do sci-fi?

RC 3-8-09