Sweet Dreams

My buddy Peter sleeps with his eyes open. 

My buddy Robert often used to sleep with his mouth open. 

But that was because his face was always propped on his hand. 

Peter still sleeps that way. 

I asked him about it the other day. 

I said, 'That's so weird, sleeping with your eyes staring straight ahead. 

Do you have any dreams?'

And he said, 'Of course I do. 

I had a nap earlier today and I had a two-hour dream about my living room.'

Ahem.

Wakka wakka wakka. 

People often ask me if I play with my own hair. 

If I'd been a heartthrob when I was younger, I'm sure that that would have been asked in the YM interviews.

Between the questions: 

'Do you wear boxers or briefs or boxer-briefs?' and 

'What's your favourite kind of jam?'

(Boxers [ya pervs])

(Rhubarb). 

Whenever people ask me, I always say, 'No.'

There are two reasons for this:

First, I don't want people to think that I'm a narcissistic prick. 

More so. 

And also, for a long time I legitimately believed this was a truthful answer. 

But I do. 

I do all of the time. 

I play with my hair when I'm waiting for the bus. 
When I watch Alex the basketball star play basketball. 

When I'm pouring hot wax on myself. 

I guess I just never really noticed before. 

I have no idea what rhubarb jam tastes like. 

Well, I do. 

Probably tastes like rhubarb.