Late last night or the night before

There are probably reasons I don't remember my dreams.
What I can recall of last night:
Somebody said somebody else's sweater 'got more holes chewed in it than Charles Nelson Reilly at an Eydie Gourmet Impersonators Convention'.
Later, I was a dog (talking dog, natch) and was assigned to keep an eye on Charles Nelson Reilly's motorcycle and laptop in an apartment building.
And, of course, at some point, I ended up at an Eydie Gourmet Impersonators Convention.

When you gonna ring it? When you gonna ring it?

Ask me a question Friday again!
Still on holiday, so I'm not doing answers. This week: Ask somebody *else* a question. Anybody, alive, dead, fictional or red-headed. They probably won't answer, but if there's a question you've been burning to ask somebody then this is the place to do it.
Anonymous commenting has been activated, just in case you find your question embarrassing.

And lose my heart on the burning sands

It's Friday the thirteenth--oooo, spooky--and so in honor of nothing in particular I am reposting a link JessInDenver showed me that purports to actually be an eighteen page manifesto from a representative of Iggy and the Stooges (ask your father who they are, dearie) as regarding their dressing room and stage requirements for a performance.
Warning: Contains bad words. Also curse words.