Crazy Dream

I had this crazy dream the other night. It started with me hanging out with Dean Martin. He was wasted, and he kept trying to give me titty twisters and poking my abdomen. I took him to my apartment, where we warmed up some left-over jerk chicken my friend from Tanzania, Martinson Agunga Agunga, gave me. It was too spicey for Dean, and he flipped, throwing the bowl and swinging his arms furiously. I fell over my couch, and into a game of football being played in my living room. That Guy from those "MacMellen are you Gellin'" commercials had the ball, and I swatted at it, hitting his hand and wrist instead. He was very upset.

I saw James Joyce sitting on my loveseat, rolling a cigarette. I told him I had Parliaments if he wanted those, and he told me to go fuck myself. Then he started singing Glass Tiger's "Someday" I left him alone. I needed to urinate real badly, but my bathroom was covered in spiders, so I settled for an empty drawer in my bureau. That's when I woke up.

Thank God, I thought, I didn't actually piss myself. I went to go to the bathroom, when I saw Rosie O'Donnell from The View. I realized I was not in my house.

"Quite a rager last night, huh?" She said.

"I'll say."