2006-03-16 - 12:04 a.m.
"If you don't like Will and Grace, that don't mean there's something wrong with you. It means there's something wrong with WILL!"
I ain't gonna be updating for awhile, so I'm gonna do it now, while i've got the energy, even though i should be in bed.
So I got cast in a show. yay.
It's gonna suck. boo.
Ok, i'm not gonna keep doing that. It's lame. The show is called Happily Ever Once Upon, and it's a fairy tale parody/farce. It's about prince charming and cinderella 20 years later with potbellies, stretch marks, 5 kids, and male pattern baldness. It's actually a fairly decent script, and could wind up being an entertaining show. Could, that is, if the director isn't able to run it into the ground like he seems determined to do, and could if the cast (more on them some other time, likely after the show) can actually pull their shit together because of or in spite of the directors efforts (and especially quit fighting. I seem to have a knack for finding those sorts of people) for long enough to actually put on a show.
And no, that ain't gonna happen. This show is in all probabilty going to suck balls. So that's your warning. Come see it if you want. March 31, April 1,7, and 8 at 7:30pm in the Whitefish Bay High School auditorium. Tickets are like, $12, i think. Come see a terrible show because you love me and want to see me fall down a lot, which i will be doing. I'll be playing the character of Jason, prince charmings sidekick, who is every bit a prince charming type himself, except for 2 things- 1) he's got a swan wing in place of his left arm, and 2) he's a clumsy bumbling idiot.
But....
that's not the interesting part of the story of this show. When I went to audition, the director recognized me. I thought he was this one arrogant prick of a director i had auditioned for about a year and a half ago.
Nope. As some of you may recall, I wrote a frustrated entry back in the summertime about auditioning at a gay theatre and the director ignoring me in favor of the really hot but barely literate moron who i was reading with because he wanted to get into that dude's pants. I'd link to it, but i don't remember how. it's the one titled A Y-Chromosome Makes You A Bad Person Too (Early July). Anyway, it's that guy. I'm in that guys show. And like I said, he remembers me, but his memory is pretty selective, in that he seems to have forgotten the part where i should have punched his teeth in. Or maybe he hasn't, cause he's been really nice to me. he actually gives me a lift each night to my second bus stop after rehearsal (see, i gotta take 2 buses to get there, and he takes me to where i get off of one bus and onto the other, which shaves a lot of time off my return trip.) That's actually how i figured out where exactly i knew him- he mentioned he goes out for drinks every night at the bars around 1st and National, which, as anyone who lives in Milwaukee (especially saraH) can tell you, is dead center in the heart of the gay bar district.
"this is america. I like my TV loud, my beer cold, and my homosexuals FAH-LAMING!"
And boy is he ever. i should take up smoking cause I could light my cigarette off of him.
He's so gay Liberace called him up to ask him to quit being such a fucking walking stereotype.
Of course every gag in the show that could POSSIBLY be turned into a gay joke is. This guy is Corky from Waiting for Guffman, only weirder and less talented. He added a dance number tacked on at the end of curtain call last night. and this isn't even a musical.
And i don't even wanna get started on how he wears button down shirts with no t-shirt underneath, then only buttons the bottome 2 or 3 buttons. you could seriously count the hairs around his navel whenever he leans forward.
Then there's the wig designer, a portly Italian queen. Tonight while he thought i was out of earshot, he asked the director in reference to me "is this studmuffin gonna be wearing tights?"
this led to the director apologizing to me in the car tonight, which led to an interesting discussion about people (of all orientations) being too overtly sexual, which led to a discussion of people using their sexuality to get ahead. I made a pointed comment about how much i hated people who audition wearing revealing clothing and trying to get cast by making the director horny. It went right over his head. "Oh, me too...I hate it when people do that. it just makes me ill"
So he's either an idiot or a total liar. either way, i'm not filled with confidence.
So why exactly AM i doing this? Simple. the director owns a paying theatre. He also has a lot of contacts, since he's been directing in milwaukee for about 20 years or so now. the show is only 4 weeks total of rehearsal, meaning we're about halfway to being done already, so it's easier to just grit my teeth, make it out of the show in this guys good graces, and then use that association for every bit of mileage i can.
and it's a damn good thing we'll be moving to the stage soonly. wood is easier on the body to fall on than the hard tile of the cafeteria. I take about 4 falls in the show, so i tend to do about 20 or so in rehearsals on said tile floor, which i can totally do without injuring myself, but that doesn't mean i don't feel it. I have a knot the size of a cherry on my elbow, and i can't even name the color my hip has turned.
ok, that's the last you're gonna hear of the show till after it's done with (likely cause i highly doubt i'll update again before that- work and such still intrude on my life, so most days i leave at 8 and don't come home till 10 or so) ON to something i promised my mom-
Pointless Racism, or Irish Jokes Whose Punchlines Aren't Ken Dillon
Two Irishmen were in a life raft in the middle of the atlantic ocean with no hope of rescue. They were beginning to despair when a bottle washed up toward the raft. The first Irishman pulled it out of the water and opened it and a genie popped out. The genie tells him, "You have freed me from the bottle, but I am a special genie. I cannot grant you 3 wishes, I can only grant you one. but that wish can be for whatever you desire."
The Irishman thinks for a second and goes, "I wish the entire ocean was made of guiness."
Poof! The ocean turns into rich, creamy dark Guiness with a beautiful head, ice cold, as far as the eye can see, and the genie vanishes.
The second Irishman looks at the first one for a long moment with barely controlled rage, then finally yells, "YOU IDIOT!!! NOW WE HAVE TO PISS IN THE RAFT!!!"
HAHAHA. John Bremer told me that one a long time ago. i love that one.
How do you fit fifty *Irishmen* in a shoe box?
Tell them it floats.
Pat and Mike had been drinking buddies and friends for years. After having a few drinks in a bar, Mike said to Pat "We have been friends for years and years and if I should die before you do would you do me a favor? Get the best bottle of Irish whiskey you can find and pour it over my grave." Pat replied, "I would be glad to do that for you my old friend. But would you mind if I passed it through my bladder first?"
Why do *Irishmen* cry during sex?
The mace.
After the Britain Beer Festival, in London, all the brewery presidents decided to go out for a beer.
The guy from Corona sits down and says, "Hey Senor, I would like the world's best beer, a Corona." The bartender dusts off a bottle from the shelf and gives it to him. The guy from Budweiser says, "I'd like the best beer in the world, give me 'The King Of Beers', a Budweiser." The bartender gives him one. The guy from Coors says, "I'd like the only beer made with Rocky Mountain spring water, give me a Coors." He gets it.
The guy from Guinness sits down and says, "Give me a Coke." The bartender is a little taken aback, but gives him what he ordered. The other brewery presidents look over at him and ask "Why aren't you drinking a Guinness?" and the Guinness president replies, "Well, I figured if you guys aren't drinking beer, neither would I."
What's the worst three years of an *Irishmans* life?
The first grade.
Newly arrived in Boston from the old country, Paddy O'Shea called his brother back home. "Sean, it's amazin, these American cities. On most every street, they got glass outhouses, and it's TELEPHONES they put in 'em!"
Brenda O'Malley is home as usual, making dinner, when Tim Finnegan arrives at her door. "Brenda, may I come in?" he asks. "I've somethin' to tell ye." "Of course you can come in, you're always welcome, Tim. But where's my husband?""That's what I'm here to be tellin' ye, Brenda. There was an accident down at the Guinness brewery...""Oh, God no!" cries Brenda. "Please don't tell me...""Sure and I must, Brenda. Your husband Seamus is dead and gone. I'm sorry." Brenda reached a hand out to her side, found the arm of the rocking chair by the fireplace, pulled the chair to her and collapsed into it. She wept for many minutes. Finally she looked up at Tim. "How did it happen, Tim?""It was terrible, Brenda. He fell into a vat of Guinnesss Stout and drowned.""Oh my dear Jesus! But you must tell me true, Tim. Did he at least go quickly?""Well, no Brenda......no.""No?""Fact is, he got out three times to pee."
And the best one of all in honor of the holiday-
An Irish man is sittin in a pub one night when 3 Englishmen walked in. The men sit down, and start to talk about how they can anger the Irishman... The first man says, "Watch this..." He gets up, walks over to the Irishman, and says, "Hey man, I hear your St. Patrick was a faggot." The Irishman just replies, "Oh, is that so now?" The Englishman, goes back to his seat perplexed, when his friend jumps up and says, "Here, lemme try that." So he goes over to the Irishman and says, "Hey man, I hear your St. Patrick was a transvestite faggot!" The Irishman only replies, "Oh, is that so now?" So the Englishman, frustrated goes and sits down with his friends. When the 3rd Englishman jumps up and says, "Well, now, I gotta try that!" So he walks over to the Irishman ans says, "Hey, I hear your St. Patrick was an ENGLISHMAN!"
And the Irishman replies, "Aye, that's what your friends were sayin."
I love being Irish. And yeah, i'm getting soooo friggin' drunk on Friday night. Hell, the whole family will. My own freakin' mom is throwing a kegger.
I had more to write, but it's late and i'm getting tired, so the other part of this is gonna have to wait. and by wait, i mean it'll be out of my mind again when i next update in 2 weeks or so. I'll try to at least give everyone a heads up if they really need to stay the hell away from the show in 2 weeks.
That didn't even make sense. I'm going to bed.
Ken
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