I know everyone has dreams about fancy celebrities where they're in a fierce love triangle with J-Lo and Katherine Hepburn, or they're action hero partners with Starsky and Hutch. Our dream fantasies run wild!

We're so lucky that these celebrities, these pop icons, these cultural idols that fill the pages and screens of our boring little lives, give us moments, no minutes, no hours of pleasure in our fanciful night-time sleep.

For instance, somewhere between 5:11 and 6:10 this morning, I had a dream where I was hanging out with Demi Moore and her little friend Ashton Kutcher. I was showing them news stories about them, headlines and tabloid articles, little clips from television - you know, Ashton, Demi and her son Mule walk through the park - and I was lecturing them.

"I think there's too much of you guys and little 2-year-old Mule. I think everyone is going to get sick of Mule."

"You may be right," said Demi.

"Ya, I wondered that," said Ashton.

So I went over to the lawn chair at the far right corner of my dream and asked Bruce Willis what he thought. He pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes and said, "Maybe we should ask Mule." Then Demi sat on his lap and they joked with each other while Aston and Mule played together in the background.

That was my celebrity dream. No action, no sex. Just boring old happy families. I don't care about these guys. And do Bruce and Demi have a kid named Mule?

Thanks and good luck.