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Howdy, friendly reading person!Folks, is there anything better than a full night’s sleep, after you’ve been working with very little for a few days? I mean, short of sex, or a Red Sox win, or a really good poop — that’s pretty much the holy trinity of good things. But just after that is ‘much-needed nine hours in the sack’.
(And just for the record, I wouldn’t try the top three all at the same time. Especially not if you’re watching the game at Fenway. They’ll kick you out twice for that.)
Of course, the combination of too little sleep and a comedy show — in Maine, no less — apparently leads to some pretty strange dreams. I don’t remember the details, exactly, but I do recall walking around in my dream, telling really bad jokes that no one was laughing at. I just remember saying, ‘Get it? Get it?‘ a lot. And getting the distinct impression that people did ‘get it’, but they sure as hell didn’t want it. The jokes may have had to do with boogers; I’m trying to block it out. Really, it was like my high school talent show, all over again.
(Okay, so that’s not quite true. Actually, in our talent show, I got together with a couple of other guys and emceed the thing, while throwing Monty Python skits in to hide the prop changes and band setups. So you can be pretty damned sure that none of the kids even ‘got it’, much less wanted it. And boogers were never mentioned at all, so far as I can remember. No boogers were harmed during the production, certainly.)
Anyway, I think I’m back to my old self again, more or less. Unfortunately, I don’t have a clip from the whow last night, because:
On the other hand, it was still a lot of fun. For me, at least — I didn’t know any of the Maine comics’ jokes, and they didn’t know mine. And I didn’t even have to drive, thanks to comic friend Jenn, who was nice enough to drive. Even though she came all the way from Rhode Island that day. And couldn’t see. And saw bridges where they didn’t exist. Good times on the road, let me tell you.
So we had a few giggles, whether I can prove it with video documentation or not. You’ll just have to trust me — good things do happen in Maine, sometimes. Hell, I’m going back on Saturday for another show — you know something magical goes on there, right? Maybe they drugged the water; I’m not sure. But that would explain the ‘booger dream’. At least I was wearing pants in that version. Sheesh.
Okay, this is going nowhere, really. Honestly, I’m just so giddy at not being exhausted, I fear I’m not making any sense at all. As opposed to every other post here, where I make just enough sense to keep you reading. Or retching, or dialing 9-1-… and waiting to see how bad it gets. At any rate, I’m out for now. I think I’ll date this puppy back to last night, so I can come back later today and try again. Hopefully, I’ll make more sense in a few hours, when I’m nice and tired again. But you might want to go ahead and dial 9- now, just in case. See you then.
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No, no, no….every BRIDGE I saw actually existed….it was that damn Burger King I thought was the toll booth. Hey, I got us home without hitting a mosse or a guy porking a sheep. That should count for some damn thing.
And you were wearing pants in the dream? Please don’t tell me it was the Maine’s boater’s pants…