I just found out about 10 days ago that I must live 300 or 400 yards from Britney Spears. And I found out cause I came home at 10 at night and there’s all these helicopters over my house with these lights. I’d gone upstairs, and I came out and I’m in a robe. All of the sudden I see all this shit going on.
I have a guest house where my assistant sometimes is, and I think, someone has broken out of prison and like escaped, because it’s a chase scene. It’s something out of “Die Hard.” I get my baseball bat, which is what you always get in every film–I actually think Clive Owen said, “Get a baseball bat”–and I called up my assistant, who I thought was in the guest house, and I said, “Are you OK?”
And she’s like, “Yes.”
And I said, “Look, if there’s someone in the place, say the word ‘Stonehenge’.”
And she’s like, “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m in my apartment.”
I go, “You’re not in the guesthouse?”
So I’m, like, “Well, then, what the fuck is going on?” And I go out and I’m running around with a baseball bat in my robe.
And it turns out it’s Britney Spears’ house is like, 300 yards from mine. So now I have to move.
LOL! Can you imagine? I’m sure his assistant will never let him live this down!