Sir Cumspect

Last night I dreamed I was enjoying the bustling nightlife of UK seaside town Weymouth (never been there) and some friends said “look over there, someone’s waiting for you”. It was Scott Aukerman (from the podcasts!). He had to spend time with me, like I’d won a competition or something. The conversation was rather one-sided; he answered my questions in an upbeat, friendly, albeit slightly detached way. The only thing I remember asking was how many bachelor parties he’d been to. He said about 15 and that he had once attended one at the age of 9. I jokingly asked if it was some kind of Bugsy Malone themed event. He politely laughed, then explained he had been taken along by an older relative and that it was uneventful. At some point in the evening a slightly aggressive man thrust some jars of coins in my hands, talking quickly about some sort of scheme he wanted help with. Scott backed away. By the time I’d extricated myself from the situation, Scott had gone. Moments later, a 7 or 8 foot tall man wearing slightly different clothes, but who looked just like Scott, strode through the crowd. From his body language alone, he clearly believed he was the greatest person alive. As he moved past, I concluded this was not Scott. I tried to find the real Scott, but to no avail.

Better a poopy parter than a party pooper.

Been attacked by a knight famed for his orgasm posture? You're a victim of circumstance.