I'm A Rock Star!

I'm a rockstar! Okay, maybe I'm not...BUT, if I was, my day would look something like this...

11:34 AM - Wake up at the Four Seasons hotel. Kick last night’s supermodel turned band groupie out of bed.

12:15 PM - Call room service and order $243 breakfast with bottle of Cristal.

12:35 PM - Snort cocaine.

1:30 PM - Meet rest of band at private jet. Argue over who gets to sit in front.

1:33 PM - Quit band over seating arrangements.

1:36 PM - Re-join band and snort cocaine to make up.

2:04 PM - Discuss giant reunion tour.

2:46 PM - Get picked up on jet-way by limo.

3:01 PM - Snort cocaine in limo.

4:01 PM – Band is guests of honor at giant autograph signing at local Blockbuster, which is attended by numerous nubile high school sluts.

4:26 PM - Deny allegations about sexual contact with said nubile high school sluts to local authorities. Call R. Kelly's lawyer.

5:12 PM - Show up for sound check only to find Katie Holmes, The Guess Girl, and the Olsen twins changing our guitar strings while patiently waiting our arrival.

5:13 PM - At site of scene depicted at 5:12PM my dick becomes so turgid it bursts through pants and causes new East Coast Fault line and power outages.

5:14-6:30 PM - Use your imagination.

6:34 PM - Snort cocaine with Olsen Twins.

7:34 PM - Flawless sound check.

9:30 PM - Lines forms around civic center in anticipation of show. Tickets are being scalped on eBay for deeds to houses, car titles, and vital organs.

9:56 PM - Prepare for gig by snorting more cocaine.

10:00 PM - My band hits the stage with a show that can modestly be described as “Best Show Ever”. Four people die in mosh pits, an average of two guitar players a night would commit suicide after witnessing my guitar prowess, and several female fans drown in their own quim.

11:57 PM – Go back at the hotel and shove a live shark up some bitch’s pussy.