Dead and Gone, Dead and Gone

Last night, I attended a celebrity-infused awards ceremony when out of nowhere, Kanye West's mother went into a seizure on the floor.

I was the first to rush to her side. She didn't make it through.

Kanye, grateful for my care and assistance, invited me to her funeral and to a private viewing in his hotel. I told him I'd try to make it.

Later, he called me to make sure I'd be there. I assured him I would, and, true to my word, attended (bringing Ashlee and Cassie along for the ride). While signing the guest book, I overheard a few people complaining about all the posers who pretended to care about her passing just so that they could get on Kanye's good side. I felt their eyes on me.

I immediately wished Kanye the best, and left the viewing.

Then I woke up.

What the heck happened?? I've never given Kanye West a second thought (except for when I noted that he actually wears pants that fit). I am going insane. Perhaps it's this alien life form.