As I’ve mentioned before, I have a habit of listening, while working, to the podcast version of Adam Corolla’s radio show. Earlier today, I nearly died when I heard this particular episode segment. Please do forgive my shitty attempt at transcription, but this was well worth it:

We were over at Kimmel’s, and I guess it was two weeks ago, and there was a buzz that Tom Cruise was coming by. Now, Jimmy had, um, worked with Tom, er, had done a sketch with Tom for his show that was very funny, a couple weeks earlier or a couple days earlier for Jimmy’s show, and I guess that’s how he knew him, but nobody knew when he was showing up, and, again, the games start at 10:00am. That’s the early game, and then there’s the late game. Now, there’s a little bit of a problem, which is people are good and loaded by 3:30/4:00 o’clock in the afternoon. Yeah, and it’s not the fourth quarter — it’s the eighth quarter because people started drinking in the first game, and Jimmy’s got the microbrew flowing with the keggerator in the back there. It’s good booze, and I get my buzz on something fierce there, but I just stagger home and take a nap, you know. I don’t have to drive.

What happened is Cruise — at this point, i don’t think he’s showing up, and neither does anyone else because it is literally 3:55, and the late game has a half minute left on the clock, and here comes Tom Cruise, but he’s brought a guest. Who? His mom . . . and it was funny because I was thinking about what it would take for me to take my mom to Football Sunday. Like, if somebody said, “Look, Adam, you take your mom to Kimmel’s house on Football Sunday or I need you to do a favor for Charles Barkley in his car,” I think we know. It would be like, “Charles, get out the bear claws, and just put the seat in recline. Let’s just not stretch this out any longer than it needs to be.”

So, Tom shows up, and [he's] the nicest guy on the planet, but you do get the impression that he never spent five minutes with a guy growing up. He’s not a “dude’s dude.” He’s a nice guy, but he doesn’t know how to spend time with guys . . . I immediately got a “never been in the presence of a group of guys” vibe. [He] wasn’t in a fraternity, started acting early, got out of the house, was raised by mom, had sisters . . . I don’t know his backstory, but I got the not spending time in the presence of other guys. So, he shows up at, literally, 3:57, and says, “Let’s watch some football!” You know, and it’s like all the games are now over, and he’s got his driver outside, and he’s drinking a bottle of water. (Theresa asks if he’s bought any security) I think you could count his mom . . . So, he’s there with no security detail, but he’s there with mom . . . and, again, it’s not a huge house, and people are buzzed . . . and people are trying, kind of crossed between running up and saying “hi” to him and wanting to get a picture, and then laying back, playing pool, and being cordial.

He’s the antithesis of Artie Lang. If you think about it, he’s a nice looking guy, but he’s not stunningly handsome. He’s a little bit on the short side. I wouldn’t say he’s incredibly gifted as an actor. How do you get to be Hollywood’s #1 leading man? Focus, hard work, and dedication, and that means thanks but no thanks with the hot wings, chili fries, and the cold microbrew. Now, he’s the nicest guy in the world. He took a picture with everyone. He was super cordial. He stood up whenever anyone would leave. I would have [too] if I could have, but I was so sloppy drunk at that point. I’d do that thing where people left, and I’d hold up a bone, like a chicken, whatever I was eating.

I told somebody earlier in the day, who had not seen my dance . . . My end zone dance would be the greatest moment in, I believe, sporting history if somebody did it in the end zone in the NFL. I will try to describe how I do this via the radio . . . It is me squatting; I’ve just caught the winning touchdown; I take the ball with one hand; I put it behind my back; I get down in a squatted position; as if [I] were sitting on a toilet bowl; I pretend to read the sports page with my open hand; and I make a grimacing look with my face, purse my lips, and then drop the ball out. Now, if you’re at the right angle, it looks like I just crapped out the football, and then I get back to reading the newspaper.

So, I got the football from the garage, and I got the guy who I was gonna show it to, but, because I was drunk, I said to everyone, “Please, I have something to show you.” And, Jimmy has a sunken living room, and there was Tom Cruise, and I handed him the ball, and I said, “Tom, you’re going to be my quarterback,” and he stood up two stairs higher than me, and I was in the sunken living room. It was sort of, you know, Shakespearean almost . . . I was on my stage, and Tom threw me a nice spiral; I caught it even though I was loaded; and then crapped it out in front of Tom and his horrified mom . . . You know what? I was so wasted at that point that I don’t remember his exact reaction but I was told by others that he laughed heartily. It was probably a nervous laugh.

Bloody hell! There is so much I could do with all of this information, but let’s just start with the obvious: Tom Cruise brought his mom to a Football Sunday at Jimmy Kimmel’s house?