So last night I decided I'd help out the FBI with a mission. Tom Colicchio was my direct contact, and he's a good guy, so I figured I'd throw him a bone and help him out. My buddies and I already had an in with Brad Pitt who was a ringleader for the drug cartel, so we'd start with that, and work our way in from there. We were filling up napkins working on calculations figuring out where the operations headquarters were, and then: No big deal. Got it. They ran their business out of a dingy little upstairs apartment right above the boardwalk on the Jersey shore, except this one was next to a huge forest of Redwood Trees. Duh.
My buddies and I went up to the apartment and Johnny Depp was like, "hey guys I'm going to go in this room over here", and we were like, "cool. We'll hang out with this red-headed guy who looks like a cross between the singer from Eve 6 and Rupert Grint (the red-headed actor from Harry Potter series) who has long hair."
We talked and chatted and they started to relax, believing our story that we weren't working for the FBI. (we were lying, OMG- so nerve-wracking) and then we left the building, and Brad Pitt walked us out, you know, to make sure that we didn't tell anybody where the hideout was.
And then Fucking Tom Colicchio got impatient and he had followed us in to the bottom of the building and I saw him on the way out and Brad Pitt got suspicious and they wrangled us all and took us to an outdoor bonfire where they were yelling at us for being liars and they wanted my phone back, cause I might have texted somebody about the drugs.
Ugh. Tom. You dummy.
But then I got away, with my phone. My feet were really heavy and I couldn't run fast, which always frustrates me, but I realized I was safe. I also think everybody was friends in the end. There was some music playing or something and I think they ended up at a Drive-in Movie.
After that I went to a big huge warehouse with a giant cement swing and a wave machine that Donald Trump owned and looked out at the ocean.
Good Morning.
xo
s
