Pun Salad

As near as I remember, it goes like this:

Somehow, you are in a small group of people that includes Tina Fey. She tells a joke. You are the only one who even notices, let alone laughs. She appreciates this.

In amazingly short order, you are made the guest host of this week's Saturday Night Live. (I know that Ms. Fey doesn't work there any more. Remember, this is the American dream.)

Unfortunately, you are expected to write your own opening monologue. It's not clear whether this is due to the writers' strike. But anyway, the clock is ticking down to 11:30pm, and you've got nada, save for a few inchoate ideas that somehow all revolve around Tina Fey.

Soon enough, you're walking through those doors in front of the studio audience and millions of home viewers. And then you notice that you forgot to put on pants.

You look around, and it appears that Tina Fey is not amused. Neither is Maya Rudolph. Or the audience.

People talk a lot about the American Dream, but personally, I think it could use some work.