Dec 29, 2004

Celebuskanks in My Bed. Er, Head.

Last night was undeniably bizarre. Not only did I wake up every hour on the quarter-hour beginning at 3:15, I also had the strangest dreams. (And it takes a lot for one of my dreams to be designated "strangest," as I have some pretty bloody odd dreams.)

First of all, I was Courtney Love's daughter. We were in a club at the top of a building in California with her hanger-on boyfriend and their little girl. Courtney was, unsurprisingly, being all drunk and belligerent. Then I got a phone call from Kate Bosworth, who wanted to know when I would be flying back to New Brunswick (New Jersey, not Canada) because she was going there too and wanted company. But she was flying back that same day and I wasn't leaving California for another week. Then Tara Reid called me and asked basically the same question. So I hooked up Kate and Tara, telling them that they should travel together. But when I went to dial Tara, I mistakenly dialed Paris Hilton, but hung up right away. (Yeah, right. If I had Paris Hilton's phone number, I would never stop prank calling that twit.) I remember remarking to Courtney-mom that, "It's like all of Page Six is calling me today!" Even in my dream I found it inexplicable.

Then I got in the elevator to leave the club and saw myself in the metallic doors. I had lots of curly auburn hair and big tits and, well, looked like Lindsay Lohan. (In reality, I look nothing like her.) After going down in the elevator, I realized I forgot my purse at the club and had to go back to get it. Then the dream switched to some sort of political event and I had to climb over Bush and Cheney to get to the bathroom.

No, I'm not on drugs.

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