garce

I'd make the naked ten year boy lying next to me get out of bed and start looking for my nose.

Then I'd quietly explain to him that the tears running down his cheeks are not tears of shame - they are merely the broken souls of lost unicorns who were laid to waste when his parents let him join my "pajama" party in exchange for an autograph.

I'd ride my rollercoaster, hug a teddy bear, and have a Happy Meal. Finally, I'd call Jermaine and tell that spineless bitch of a brother to shoot Conrad Murray in the face.

As the day wore down, I`d take my penis in hand and slowly dial Macaulay Culkin`s private number.

Thanks for asking.