Last night I had a dream that Kenny Chesney and a completely bald Keith Urban wanted to hang out with me. Actually, to be specific, Kenny asked if he could drive my car, and I was like, “CAN YOU EVER” – which is weird because I generally distrust men in necklaces.
So Kenny, Keith, and I loaded into the old Honda, and I insisted on sitting in between them, which was very awkward because that put me in between the bucket seats and on top of the emergency break. But we were cruising along, and at one point, I said, “Guys, you know that we’re going to have to take a picture – because no one is ever going to believe me.” They both laughed reluctantly, like, “Yeah, sure,” but I could tell that they didn’t really want anyone to know that they had spent any time with me. They were just using me for my car.