You know, like Leonardo DiCaprio’s spinning top? Clearly I’m stuck in somebody else’s dream and I’ve been pumped with way too much somnacin. And you guys are definitely the projections gone angry. But the dream won’t collapse. Can it collapse now, please? I’d like my equivalent of a tearful reunion with my children at LAX.

I know, that brain of yours takes a while. I’m not wearing any.
Then…don’t look at me.
I think I’ll pass.
Thanks but no thanks, Lisa Rinna.