You Are Feeling Sleeeeeepy Day!

That time of year again. Time for you to go see a dinner theater hypnotist and be the first in the audience to volunteer to be hypnotized in the hope that while in a hypnotic state you will confess to setting the fire that killed your spouse and three children but that the fire department blamed on a rotted gas trigger.

You've tried drinking a lot with old friends praying for the kind of 4 am confessional conversation where drunks who've been drinking together for years start unloading all the secrets they've been dying to throw to the tabletop. You've holed up in a motel room for days with a wisened prostitute, grasping for that kind of intimacy to which you can only surrender yourself when you know you're talking to someone who plans to wash all evidence of you from her body as soon as the cigarette in the ashtray burns down to the filter. You've even become an international spy and allowed yourself to get caught by hostile governments, praying to be administered a hypodermic full of truth serum.

You've gone to such great lengths just so you can be angled unawares into shouting once and for all, "I did it! I rigged the pilot light to go out that night! I killed my little babies and I really apologize big time!" And what have all your headgames yielded? Nada, zip, zilch.

But your chest is still tight when you open your eyes in the morning. So you gotta keep trying. Go see The Amazing D'Agostino and volunteer to be hypnotized. He knows everyone in the audience is just dying to get onstage and admit to their extramarital affairs and sister lust, which is why the Amazing D'Agostino only makes his volunteers cluck like a chicken because he got his chops in vaudeville and he doesn't want all that heinous shit unloaded all over his stage. To quote the Amazing D'Agostino, "This is dinner theater kid. It ain't church. Make em smile and peddle the veal."

Happy You Are Feeling Sleeeeeepy Day!