Balls Capone

Dammit, get up Sean. He wouldn't budge, he just kept clutching my pillow to his head and saying "NO!" over and over, so I gave up and headed into the front living room where Slash was camping out on my couch. He had all placed the finest of furs all over the room and was just chillin' shirtless on my couch with his signature Les Paul and Top Hat, so I asked for a jam! Why not, right? I've got this iconic guitar player staying on my couch, might as well. But he didn't want to, he was all whiny and told me he was too tired, was out of smokes, and didn't want to play anymore. Then he set his guitar down and went and got into my bed next to Sean Penn and went to sleep. What the hell? Stupid celebrities! Get out of my bed!

So I turned around to head into the back room and Angelina Jolie came out of the bathroom just in time to smash me in the face with the door. I grimaced in pain as she rudely pushed past me saying nothing and went into the kitchen where she sat on the floor and started playing with the old Transformer train set that I used to have when I was kid. Then Sean Penn came out of my room looking frustrated and tired, he started complaining that it was too hot in there and that Slash wouldn't stop farting, plus he demanded that I put up the "Choo Choo Train" curtains.

When I was a kid, I had these colorful train curtains and they just happened to be lying on the floor next to the windows. So I put them back up and he crawled back into my bed next to Slash and fell fast asleep. It was starting to feel like taking care of a bunch of annoying kids. I suddenly had the urge to piss, so I headed toward the bathroom, but I could see the light on and heard commotion in there. Dammit, Angelina Jolie is in there AGAIN! I really had to go, so I headed off to the back bathroom where I ran into Denzel Washington who stopped me in the doorway of the back bathroom. "Hey, I've gotta shower", he said sharply, "You think you gonna go take a shit in there? Hell No!" he said angrily as he pushed me out the door, slamming it shut and locking it.

So I headed outside to take a whiz by the garage when I ran into someone sitting on the patio dressed up and painted like a sad carebear. He looked depressed and there was a little rain cloud above his head. Oh, what now? It was Robin Williams and he was a sad panda. Apparently he had clogged the toilet in the back bathroom and he got yelled at by Denzel Washington, who really needed to take a shower and was going to have take a brown shower because of Robin Williams. He was really bummed out, so I gave him one of my old rusty Tonka dump trucks that I used to have. That seemed to cheer him up and he went off to play with it in the old sandbox, which had returned to my backyard.

I never did get to take that pee, it seems everywhere I went there were celebrities to take care of. I peaked around the house and there was Kevin Bacon sitting on my front porch strumming an acoustic guitar, singing songs about dust. So I just went back inside, that's when I heard a commotion down stairs in the basement. So I headed toward the stairs in the kitchen and Angelina Jolie, who was back on the kitchen floor playing with trains and my micro-machines looks up at me, rolls her eyes and says, "Ugh, not HER again......" and goes back to playing.

I headed down to the basement and there was Liv Tyler sifting through Steve's Litter box. Well, at least she was trying to help out, I guess? But she turned around with a furious look and threw a turd at me which bounced off my glasses and sprinkled my face with used litter.

"There's no inspiration down here, Lewis!", Liv said as she wandered around in circles.

"Can I do something for you?", I asked her.

She just looked at me and started crying and ran into the old coal cellar. She locked the door and wouldn't come out. She then informed me that Phil Collins was coming over for drinks in an hour and she needed her beauty rest. I guess she was sleeping in there. Okay then. So I headed back upstairs to the kitchen to find Harvey Keitel going through my fridge.

"You're out of pickles", he said dryly to me and wandered out.

Where did he come from?

Suddenly there's someone slamming on the door. So I went to answer it, Liv was right, it's Phil Collins and he's here for drinks. He sat at the bar and asked for a Martini, but all I had was cheap scotch and apple pucker for some reason. So I put them both in a shaker with ice and poured it anyway. He seemed to be okay with it. Then, Liv Tyler comes running down the hallway and jumps into Phil Collins lap and they start making out like horny teenagers. Then the clothes fly and suddenly they're making sweet love on my back room floor.

I have to admit, it was strangely erotic. Then Sean Penn and Slash came in, they were totally about it and joined in. Soon I was standing there in my robe watching all these celebrities have pile sex on my floor. At some point Madonna and Glenn Close showed up for the pile as well. They asked me to take pictures and demanded that I put them in my family photo albums by the door or "I'd be sorry", well, if you can't beat em, join em! To the pile!

What a fucking weird dream.