Just in case you wondering what such a thing might look like.
Dad is only the funniest guy in the world, you see. Right now, all I have to do is waggle an eyebrow or look at her cross eyed. I’m keeping my significant list of decidedly B level material in reserve for when she knows, like, words and stuff. I’m told that this show runs three performances a day for the next twenty five years. Given that this leaves something like fifty thousand performances, it’s probably best to ration material.
Given that my dry commentary on the opening ceremony to the Winter Olympics elicited a, well, an unfavorable response, there is probably reason for concern.
In fairness, the Canadian national anthem is still boring even when beautifully rendered by a gorgeous young woman. Tap dancing and fiddle playing, you say? Sparklers, you say? Maybe another montage of a man snow boarding down a mountain to a bland recitation of locations?
I’m going to take executive priveledge here and pull a Han: It’s not my fault. Also, when does the curling start?