In which Johnny Depp and a fat man screw my ex and wreck my apartment

Check out this crazy-ass dream I had last night:

So I come home to my apartment, and some fat dude and my ex are sprawled out on a table, going at it.

Wait, before I get started, I just wanted to point out that I can say whatever I want about my ex since she doesn't read my blog anymore. Watch: SCREW YOU, KATIE! See? Nothin'.

Back to the story: so Fat Man and Katie see me walk in and stop. I'm all like, "what's going on?" And they're like, "Hey, you know..." Then I see that Johnny Depp is there, and he starts getting uppity. So we're about to throw down, and then Katie steps in and breaks us apart. She says something to me along the lines of, "If you had watched this documentary about him, you wouldn't be trying to pick a fight with him. He's a really nice guy." So then I get really pissed, because I've just noticed a big-ass hole in the floor of my apartment that Johnny Depp has created for the purpose of storing beer. Don't ask me how that works -- I guess I have refrigerated floors in my dream apartment. So I start screaming at Katie, "This isn't your apartment, it's MINE!" Except that I hold out the "mine" for a really long time, like I'm an opera singer or a ninja or something.

Then I wake up, and I'm really scared for some reason. Maybe I thought Johnny Depp was still in my apartment, diggin' up my parquet to make a wine cellar. Maybe I thought my ex and the fat man (who, after he put on his clothes, actually seemed to be in pretty good shape) were still doing the nasty on my kitchen table.

Anyways, it was super weird, and now you all know about how my subconscious works.