Mads: My Night at the Oscars

I just got in today after a great night at the Oscars.

I had an in to one of the better after parties from my buddy Djimon Hansou. When I got there, I did a little 8-Ball's worth of pregame, and then found the Jaeger. I was in pretty good shape.

I had a conversation with Cameron Diaz, where I just could not fathom that she hadn't read Nostromo. She was a little uncomfortable with me when I tried to stuff a $25 Barnes and Noble gift card in her back pocket so she could go and buy it.

By the time I got over to the stereo, I had a strange desire to hear Sponge's "(Molly) Sixteen Candles". I stopped the song that was playing, and then messed up all the presets in getting my song on. Alan Arkin made the mistake of trying to help me. I turned on him and grabbed him by his collar.

"Sixteen candles down the drain… down the draaaaain… sixteen candles down the drain… down the draaaain… third place is you're fired!"

I waited for the other shoe to drop, but it didn't. Alan was too enamored with his own Oscar success that night, and all he did was pat me on the shoulder and laugh. The others were as close to as wasted as I was, and they started to act worse. It was a bad scene man, and I need to get out of there.

The last thing I remember, I was ordering four Big Mac extra value meals at a nearby McDonald's. I woke up in a beet farm with a 75-year old Chinese man who was playing SR-71's "Right Now" on an old, beat-up, beat box.