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Every little job becomes a dream, and you don't recall it anymore, and maybe you might have a deja vu moment, but it's like something you dreamed earlier.
Right now I'm having amnesia and deja vu at the same time.
I feel like I've dreamed half of my life that hasn't happened yet, so a lot of times I'm going along, and I do stuff, and I know that I've done it. I have deja vus more than I have regular experiences. If half of your day is a deja vu, then you start to wonder, 'What is real and what isn't?'
Deja vu is one of the weirdest things that happens to me. It boggles my mind.
Mickey is one of the prime examples: Mickey has never been suspected of being an American export. It was deja vu. They gave him a local name and he's been accepted everywhere he goes.
I feel, first of all, very privileged that these people think enough of me that they made me commissioner. And it's almost like, as Yogi Berra said, 'deja vu all over again.'
How come I love having an episode of deja vu? It's akin to an out-of-body experience, I would think. It sits with me, happily, begging me to delve into my memory to find its match point.
I was talking on the phone in my trailer, and I looked in the mirror and I saw the badge clipped to my belt, a gun with a holster, and the suit and the tie with the jacket off, and it was just deja vu. I remember that image so clearly from growing up. My dad would come home for lunch, take off his jacket, have the gun and the badge.
And you know what - and I don't mean this in tongue in cheek way - but it's like deja vu. When I walked in to WCW they were producing wrestling on a little teeny sound stage at Disney, okay? I'm walking into TNA and they're producing wrestling in a little teeny sound stage at Universal.