I had the most bizarre dream last night. In it, Justin Timberlake and I were the best of friends and we were in Canada for some sort of national celebration where he was going to be honored for something or other (presumably his humanitarian efforts on behalf of teenage girls the world over).

At some point a panic broke out and the young, screaming girls at the front of the crowd were being crushed against the front barricades. Justin and I leapt into action, pulling the girls to safety. The girls, who by then had turned into Naomi Watts, Nicole Kidman, and various other very attractive women, expressed their gratitude for our efforts and asked if there was anything they could do to thank us <wink, wink>…and that’s when I woke up.

No matter how hard I tried to fall back asleep, there was no going back. It was gone. But for the longest time I had that lingering glow that comes from having a celebrity as a best friend and the opportunities for heroism (and Naomi Watts) that arise as a result of that friendship.

For those of you who are curious, Justin is quite charming and down-to-earth when you get to know him.