"Oh, meu amor..."

Last night, for some unfathomable reason, I dreamt I had to sing a Righteous Brothers duet in a show in Portuguese; it's clearly time to adjust my medication.

I can't be certain of the language, if I'm honest; if anything, it was non-specific foreign. The only saving grace was I was singing the lower vocal harmony; even in a catatonic state, I know my limitations. 

What's amusing in retrospect is I didn't question why I had to do this; it felt completely normal, if a little mundane. It was just another run-of-the-mill, performing-a-Sixties-song-in-a-central-European-language situation; we've all been there. I've been asked to do stranger things in castings. I once had to pretend an alien was bursting out of my stomach à la John Hurt; I didn't get the job. 

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