you remember all those public service announcements (psas) from back in the day about outlet splitters? they'd have a guy with like twelve four-way splits plugged into each other, & then his house would burn down? funny how those went away. i guess the fuse in power strips, that little button, is awfully effective, huh? so witch prison! is at an end! kaput! finito! bon voyage! & now i can...listen to my ipod on the walk to the train instead of repeating my lines? freedom, as george michael would sing. the problem is: i'm fucking sauced still. cast parties mean madcap, my friends. we plowed through a tub of gin. the dry eyed widow had filtered vodka through her brita, a la mythbusters. the profits from the show were, as always, "liquidated." haw haw. i'd like to recount stories, but i have none. there was a magical castle? we took prom photos? somehow i hurt my foot kind of bad? danielle lost her camera & jenny digged through the garbage for it? jenny & i got into a fight & it was my fault? oh geez i don't know. we did the same thing we had for jungle woman of the jungle & just hung out on stage after the curtain fell, drinking, the lot of us. ut! that is jenny's alarm. time to go cuddle her.