mordicai caeli (mordicai) wrote,
mordicai caeli
mordicai

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the young romance play is dead- long live the young romance play! i don't even want to talk about the friday night after show, though the show itself was gold star. at one point the wall almost fell over thanks to the juggernautical fury of beauregard, but at least my jacket was there to be worn! oh, & christopher fell over in the audiance. he & peter left work with me & spend their time playing fooseball at the royal oaks before the performance. that was the night the rest of the dnd crew showed up- bernie & mike & james, as well as who knows, maybe other people. i was out of sorts! it also marks the night that jenny's debut as crew, as she ran the lights for the whole show! then um, well. i could gloss over the worst burlesque show in the world. at least i got into a shouting match with a guy on the platform:

m: (to monica) so then chance & simon...
yuppie: (in passing) fuck simon!
m: no, FUCK YOU!
yuppie: no, fuck you! (stumbles)
m: you fucking piece of shit, you can't even walk!
yuppie: you...you can't even talk!
m: rhyming doesn't make a thing a good comeback, fucker!

but the actual event left much to be desired. you would think looking at naked girls might be okay. i mean, i get that mostly burlesque is code for fat chick strippers, but i figured in new york it was code for a slightly more amateur (thus "classier") set of exhibitionists. in that, i don't think i'm wrong. so far, it sounds like an okay idea, right? anyhow, the girl chance is dating works there! what could go wrong? well, lemme tell you. james getting bounced at the door just proves his luck. for a $5 cover we suffered plenty! most people like to place the blame on moisty the snowman. with his grating, fingernails on chalkboard voice & pendantic self-loathing faggot routine, the emcee singled himself the fuck out. but for me, it was the polished & waxed upper east/west side boys & the lower east side girls. the crowd was packed with these l.a. looking motherfuckers. i don't know what to tell you. i'm not the biggest hater on paris hilton by any means. but you arn't supposed to want to look like her. especially not if you are a boy.

saturday morning before i jetted off to work (quinjetted, but lets not split hairs), kingtycoon arrived. as you can tell, the sweet smell of success is already in the air! i dragged him along to work, since saturday i kind of have to do that. but when christopher got here, it was off in search of adventure. we picked up peter at the train depot & stomped around the park a little bit, then tra-la-la'ed out way back to williamsburg in time for me to get to the play early. instead, i fucked off with them for a little bit longer, getting some more pizza & beer at capones. then, the final performance! if anything went wrong, i didn't notice it. good times to be an actor! this show was attended by mariah (a first time meeting of all of thirty seconds!), & kira (& of course kingtycoon & peter again). after the clean-up was done, we went over to some joint called "m shanghai." i do! i shanghai you! we had the bottom floor reserved to ourselves. things there were pretty fun. littlewashu didn't make it to the play in time (no thanks to the new jersey transit!) & she brough imogen with her to the afterparty. chance's lady is okay- i deduced through clues her day to day whereabouts! really, i won't run down all the details, but it was some pretty impressive sherlock holmes shit & no exageration. anyhow, she & kingtycoon (perhaps in secret collusion!) formented some drama, which was fun for me. a scene was made & i got to spider-spin my way into the center of it. hooray for me. i am the cleverest.



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