I’ve always been a daydreamer. I’ve dated Tom Cruise and David Duchovni, Colin Firth and Richard E. Grant. I think even Bruce Willis – before he lost his hair 😉 Now a certain Ryan Stiles has made his debut in my daydreams, if you know what I mean. I suppose this is a confession one should never make, but I’m counting on you forgetting it after asking "who the — is Ryan Stiles?".

 

My sister gave me a dvd with the 5th season of Whose Line Is It Anyway? for Christmas present (oh, oops, we didn’t give each other Christmas presents last year, me, my sister and my mother – but my sister gave it to me on Christmas anyway, just, um, as a, well, you know. gift.). Be as it may, I’ve been watching episodes of Whose Line for a week now and am totally addicted.

 

Whose Line is this American (well, actually, originally British) tv gameshow where everything is made up and the points don’t matter. Thats right, the points are like Ryan Stiles in my daydreams – they just don’t matter. It’s like improvisation comedy. There are always four actors in the show. Three are always the same and the fourth one changes from episode to episode. Every ones in a while there is a special guest on board, someone like, hmm, miss America, David Hasselhof or this weirdo Richard Simmons.

 

And the show is absolutely hilarious! The actors are witty and funny and throw themselves completely to the show. They laugh at themselves and at each other. They seem to be very comfortable with each other and play good together. And the show has a healthy amount of self-mockery and that’s one thing that makes it such fun. And it is amazing how they make up songs and story plots as they go about the different games.

 

Anyway, Ryan Stiles is one of the regulars on the show. He’s the funniest and the nicest and the most attractive one, at least I think so. I mean, I always go for the nice guys 😀

 

But now I’m out of Whose Lines until I get more from my sis. And I’m all out of books to read and movies to watch. So I have to make up something else to entertain me. And that’s when I make up my own stories. I don’t write them down, oh no! My daydreams are my made-up-romantic-dramas, all in my head. And, for the fun of it, they are often starred by good looking actors and – of course – me myself and I. My private entertainment.

 

[Ah, this was pretty embarassing, really. But don’t no one say that I should only daydream of my own husband! What’s the fun in that? Besides, there’s no need anyway, ’cause he’s the real thing in my life.]