So it turns out that watching Pamela Anderson do comedy is about as comfortable as having a proctological exam from Edward Scissorhands.We squirmed, we twisted, we held up our hands in horror, we covered our ears at the deafening volume, then our mouths as she left her dancing partner on stage for what seemed like a week as she changed outfits, slowly.
Oh it was horrible. She dressed as a seal (to go clubbing, geddit), she danced (slowly) --- she wished she wasn't there. And the audience wished that they weren't either.
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