Recording with Josh Homme

I am in a small house's kitchen. There is music emanating from the basement. My head peaks down the stairs as my friend Nate emerges. 'Josh asked me to play on the album and do the tour', he says. 'I need you to give this to me and not be jealous.' He stares me in the eye and walks away. My emotions become angered. Trying to get down the stairs, I cannot manage the steps. Laughter is heard and I realize it is Nikki Lane smoking with Josh listening to the new album they are recording. 

A voice screams to me from outside the house. In a giant field stands Josh's ex wife. 'Come join my band', she says, 'and we will make the greatest album ever heard'. I run through the field to where she is standing but she is gone. In her place is a wolf. Looking over my shoulder, I see my friend Nate drinking coffee on the house's porch nodding his head slowly at me. 

I am standing on a grey/sepia toned beach surrounding a massive lake of oil. The filmmaker Michel Gondry is antagonizing me. I trap him in the oil and begin to kick and hit him. He slowly slips into the oil and disappears. Two sea lions bubble to the surface and attack me. I wrestle and hit them until they disappear.

Suddenly it is night. Along the beach sit giant wooden boxes - tall enough for a man to stand in - of various solid colors. They are against each other on their walled sides, open in front and back, lined up as far as the eye can see. It is night but the rows of boxes are illuminated by very bright fluorescent white street lights. People 'live' in these boxes and roam around in rags, a shantytown.

A giant robot-like metalic police unit arrives and randomly begins shooting. Chaos all around. People scramble for cover, hiding in boxes. It then gets quiet. I realize a giant robot is actually Michel Gondry and he is looking for me. He goes one by one, looking into each box, shooting whomever is inside. I stay one box ahead of him and manage to wrestle his gun away from him. I shoot him again and again but to no avail, as he lays on the ground grinning and then disappears. I awake.

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.'