In times of old, seers and soothsayers would examine dreams and predict the future. People were very dumb in days of old. I had a dream recently, perhaps influenced by my joke about how I could never be Justin Bieber, despite my sister requesting me to sing some Bieber songs at my niece’s birthday party…or I am secretly a teen queen. In my vision/alcohol hallucination dream, I was in a basement of a VFW hall type place in my hometown of Zanesville. I opened my set with my Bieber joke, but the crowd didn’t like it and the mike cut off. I flew into a rage and spiked the mike on the ground and walked off the stage. This part is probably not far from reality.
The mike replaced, I ditched the joke and then had a great set. I walked around the corner and Justin Bieber was singing on another stage…in a VFW basement…in Zanesville, Ohio. I then turned around and Selena Gomez said I was funny and asked if I wanted to hang out with them and my girlfriend after the show. I declined, then realized I could get some nice connections and Twitter followers and went back to accept, only to wake up.
Whatever promoter got the Biebs to Zanesville should be my agent. Also, whatever security guard let Selena Gomez hang out alone at the venue should be executed. There is also the point, what person or persons says, my target audience is teenage girls and surly drunk rednecks, preferably foul mouths with a hint of sexism…Got it! Chris Coen and Justin Bieber, together, onstage, one night only! And to think, in days of old, someone would have told me this was a solid basis for the rest of my life plan or executed me in some horrific way due to the prophecy of lore foretelling that when the mike broke, the famine started. Dreams suck.
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