I am at my college, and there is no funding for a school newspaper. I call my 'friend' John McCain and he comes by to inspect the paper's office. My college friend Gretchen and my old Editor/boss friend Andy from my days working at the Pittsburgh City Paper are both there. Andy is in an old school airline pilot's leather helmet. There are several black raincoats laying around on chairs. I say to McCain 'Look we HAVE all these black jackets, which proves we just need funding to press!' Gretchen shakes his hand, saying 'Mr McCain, I am the leader of this college, and I approve your sponsorship of our newspaper'. McCain suddenly gets really excited, saying 'Well dammit, no college should be without a newspaper, especially one with this many fine black jackets!' Pulling out his checkbook, he writes a check for $2049.00

I live in a large trailer, and my dad is Randy Quaid. He is a mean and loud drunk and keeps insisting I call backhoe companies because 'There's oil in our 'backyard''. Meanwhile, my brother is Heath Ledger but as the gay cowboy, and I kept hiding his gayness from my dad (Quaid) to the point where he sneaks off to the dog house out back to have sex with men. My friend Rich comes by to record some vocal tracks. I keep getting distracted by an older but really hot blonde that looks like Naomi Watts but with total white trash hair and ripped jeans, and apparently my aunt, who keeps wanting to 'sex me'.

An old college friend is opening a boutique shop in the city. She invites me by to try her cupcakes. When I arrive, she's wearing a Victoria's Secret-like silk thing. 'Here's what I need your help with' she says, hiking up her negligee to reveal a massive neon sign with the words 'Come On Inn' written on it over her crotch, saying 'Do you think it's too much?'

I am eating pizza and trip over a large box of pizza boxes. My trip starts a chain reaction in which the 'Mac Dude' gets hit with all the cardboard and falls to the ground. One of the boxes hits my foot and splits it neatly in half, horizontally. The bottom of my foot hangs off revealing I have chicken wings for feet.

My friends Angela and Mike invite me over for a meatball dinner. While eating, Mike pulls out a guitar and we attempt to write a children's song. 'No, no, no,' Angela says, 'That will never sell.' She grabs a videotape and pushes play. 'It needs to be like this.'

In the video, Mike is hang gliding. The caption reads 'Musician. Father. Friend.' as soaring music plays. The Mastercard logo appears in the lower right hand corner of the screen.

Suddenly I am skydiving into the screen. I fly away through a clear blue sky and float above a desert landscape. My parachute is not opening - panic sets in until I begin to slow down and coast towards a small adobe hut village. Indigenous people come into focus, strolling with baskets on their heads. My boots land with a light thud and suddenly police cars with the word 'TACO' written in huge blue letters on the doors begin pulling up. I look over to see Mike has landed and is being taken into custody. Breaking into a run, my orange jumpsuit (?!?!) begins to rip apart. I take cover behind a small taco stand, furiously trying to remove the jumpsuit and boots to avoid being conspicuous.

I scramble as my suit will not come off. A man wearing a mustache and sombrero leans out from the taco stand and hands me a beer. 'Relax,' he says, 'I won't tell.'

My best friend Justin Timberlake and I are vacationing on the Jersey store. We go into a mega-chain store and he sees his picture on the cover of a magazine. He immediately snatches all the copies off the rack and hides them in the boys' dressing room. 'I'm so sick of my face everywhere,' he scowls. We walk outside and into an antique video arcade filled with Pac Man machines. Inside sits a fat mobster-type man who warmly greets us. He gives Justin advice about a recent break-up, and Justin gets angry. Suddenly the woman in question appears - an attractive but somewhat slutty blond. Justin confronts her as I feign busy playing a game of Pac Man. She runs off in tears and Justin grabs me. 'Come on,' he says, 'we have to get out of here!'

We exit the arcade and head for the parking lot, which is filled with used cars for sale. Justin throws a wad of cash over his head and jumps behind the wheel of a candy red 60's Mustang. As I jump in the back seat, he yells something I can't hear. We begin flying down the road at top speed. The open windows howl. He points to a small beige PC tower under the gear shift and makes a thumbs up, indicating that this model has been souped up. Abruptly, swirling cop lights appear behind us. As Justin slows down to look for a place to pull over, I wake up.

A local drug and alcohol rehabilitation center is having a fund raising rock show. My nephew's band shows up to perform but all of their songs have titles and lyrics making fun of the patients: '12 Days and I Still Want a Drink', 'We Love Drugs', 'Give Me More Booze'. I pull him aside in horror and say their shtick is in awful taste and immature. His singer -- a fat biker-type dude in his mid 40's with a beard, beer gut and bandanna on -- tells me that people are 'digging it man, so back off'.

I go into the kitchen where the rehab patients are baking bread. Suddenly everyone runs to the main stage where a reunited King Face are about to perform. I head over to see Andy and his crew all dressed in blue pinstripe suits, wearing large afro wigs and sunglasses. Andy's bass guitar is made out of balsa wood and has nylon strings. The singer starts doing splits and screaming 'Far Out!' as Andy starts finger-styling a bass line.

As he plays, the bass bends forward and backward as if made of rubber. I yell to him 'I think it's out of tune!' just as the band kicks into the first song. Everyone in the band appears to be playing a different song and people begin to boo. One man starts crying: 'I've waited years for this reunion and they won't even show their real hair!'