Returning the Favor and other Slices of Life

Returning the Favor
Returning the Favor
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Friday, September 15, 2006

No coherent thoughts

Don't eat bagged spinach, it grows in shit and has E. Coli.

No, really.

Wil has a great post up that took me back to the days of velour shirts and bowl haircuts. I never go into the Transformers thing, but Greedo was always one of my favorites and the COBRA tank was eight shades of badass, especially when you rotated the turret and hid extra bad guys in the body of the tank under the turret to pull a Trojan Horse move on the GI Joe weenies.

Watched the local professional theatre company open up their season last night with a production of I Am My Own Wife. If you've never heard of this play, then you're not a theatre goof. It's the story of Charlotte von Malsdorf, a German transvetite who lived through both the Nazi occupation and the Communist occupation, neither of which were pleasant places for a transvestite. One actor plays over 35 parts in this solo 2-act play, which is a helluva test for an actor. It's a challenge for the director, too, and everyone involved in this show really stepped up to the task. It was a fantastic performance, and the set, sound and lighting were also really well done. So that was a good theatre night.

The Duhks, with the amazingly hot lead singer, have a new CD out. It's pretty damn good, check it out.

5 comments:

Joe Speaker said...

Hater.

I, too, grow in shit and have E. coli.

Chilly said...

I that the secret to Speaker's hair??

DadWarbucks said...

Falstaff, I haven't looked it up YET but I believe a TRANSVESTITE is a male who likes to wear make-up and women's clothing.
Is that, in fact, what the story is about? It doesn't seem to difficult to NOT wear women's clothes while the Nazi's are looking...
I'm going to see it next week.

Wolverine Fan said...

Much like Cabaret, one of my favorites.

Good luck on rebuilding your bankroll. Keep posting on how you are doing as you get nearer to the end of the year.

Otis said...

I thought I had him beat two or three times, but every time I started counting the money in my head, the kid would turn over two cards that made me feel like I was just learning to play again. Then, when I let my mind drift off to how Charleston Earle and Hoppy met in the first place, the kid suddenly had a lead on me. Before I could recollect myself, my bluffs started to fail, my read on the kid disintegrated, and I was on my way to losing.

I thought about my wife, ratty old suitcase in hand and bleach blonde hair spilling over her shoulders as she walked out the door with my roll.

At least the kid was breaking my heart fair and square.

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