A Real Dame

I had a comedy dream.
I have these infrequently, thank fuck.
After I wake up and finish masturbating, I always find them unsettling.
In this one I was trying to convince someone to give me stage time.
And I believe that I wasn't getting it.
I think that I was trying to convince Dame Judy Dench to let me onstage.
She played the Queen.
A few times, I think.
Let's see her do an airport joke, though.
Mom was watching some garbage on TV today and a character said:
"Everyone's a comedian."
And I said, "No they're not."
They're not.

Overnight and single-handedly, Russell Samways has become the blog's biggest fan.
This used to mean that Ed McMahon would come to your house.
But these days the prick won't answer my e-mails.
Speaking of deceased people, I saw my grade one teacher at church tonight.
I just assumed that she's been dead for years.
She was old when I had her. In grade one.
Anyway, Samways.
Read the whole blog in one sitting, essentially.
I wouldn't even be willing to do that.
I can't really explain a Samways to you, if you haven't met one.
One time, at Uncle Bill's, we were having a fire in the yard.
And this van pulls up.
Blaring music.
And suddenly, a Samways gets out of it.
With approximately five women.
And within seconds (seconds!) there are fireworks going off.
I can't say any more than that.
It's cool.
Because now all of the 'Bay Roberts Crowd' might begin reading it.
Which means I may be able to impress people that have always been slightly older than me.
And that's something.

Alright, I have to go up to the tree and shake all of my presents now.
I'm hoping that Santa brought me a successful lifestyle this year.