I received some e-mail yesterday regarding the podcast from a guy who had to good fortune to sniff the underwear ofprocure the costume worn by Señor Shanks during a production of Hamlet. Now having this guy firmly stuck in my mind, I had a dream last night in which I discovered which bar he frequents, and it turns out to be one I go to from time to time myself.

In a rare twist, he was actually an actor in the dream- not the character that he plays. I somehow managed to strike up a conversation with him. He was complaining about people showing up there to see him or ask for autographs. I said, "Who? I don't see anyone here doing that." He pointed out two women sitting at different tables nearby, and then pointed to printed pages of scripts or information they had on the tables in front of them. They were all staring at him, too.

I told him that he and I looked enough alike that I could try to distract them. He didn't seem amused. (Our matching eye color is where the resemblance stops, I think.) But before he could admit his homosexual lust for me, the dream came to an end.