What Godzilla said to God when his name wasn't found in the book of life
You know what I like about myself? How I manage to make changing my blog address into an item of importance rivaling that of the discovery of King Tut's tomb. It's nice to know that my delusions of grandeur are still perking along quite nicely. At any rate, I like my new digs here at livejournal. Spacious, and with a nice view.
So my groovy idea for a musical fell through. I was seriously thinking of giving "West Side Story" a go (and yes, Master Grammarians, that title should be in italics, but I misplaced my italics box in the move), but Barrett's right when he says that there's no way we could fit that many people on our postage-stamp-sized stage. Pardon me while I stare wistfully into the distance and hum "Someday My Prince Will Come" while I dream of having a real theater to work in. So now we're back to square one, making a list of potential shows to do and seeing which ones we have in common. The good news is that with nineteen guys expressing an interest in auditioning, we've actually got a pretty broad range of shows to choose from. Alas, Chris Fleischman, "Tommy" is not one of them.
How is it that Chuck Palahniuk isn't a bigger writer? I read a couple of his books last year, and I'm working on "Fight Club" right now (no way was that going to be the first of his books I read, lest I become too trendy for words), and this guy is amazing. I'd love for the people who normally settle down with a nice Danielle Steel potboiler to read "Choke" or "Lullaby," but their heads would probably explode. Ditto the woman I overheard at Border's last week who said, "I simply love Anne Rice. She's so ... interesting." No she's not. She's a B-list, soft-core hack who needs a better editor. Grrrrrrr.
And now I'm off to read an article entitled "Children of the Corn Syrup," wherein the author argues that our nation's obesity epidemic is caused in part by an excess use of fructose resulting from the growth of the farm in post-World War II America and exacerbated today by our continuing war effort. Now why couldn't I think of something so brilliant?
So my groovy idea for a musical fell through. I was seriously thinking of giving "West Side Story" a go (and yes, Master Grammarians, that title should be in italics, but I misplaced my italics box in the move), but Barrett's right when he says that there's no way we could fit that many people on our postage-stamp-sized stage. Pardon me while I stare wistfully into the distance and hum "Someday My Prince Will Come" while I dream of having a real theater to work in. So now we're back to square one, making a list of potential shows to do and seeing which ones we have in common. The good news is that with nineteen guys expressing an interest in auditioning, we've actually got a pretty broad range of shows to choose from. Alas, Chris Fleischman, "Tommy" is not one of them.
How is it that Chuck Palahniuk isn't a bigger writer? I read a couple of his books last year, and I'm working on "Fight Club" right now (no way was that going to be the first of his books I read, lest I become too trendy for words), and this guy is amazing. I'd love for the people who normally settle down with a nice Danielle Steel potboiler to read "Choke" or "Lullaby," but their heads would probably explode. Ditto the woman I overheard at Border's last week who said, "I simply love Anne Rice. She's so ... interesting." No she's not. She's a B-list, soft-core hack who needs a better editor. Grrrrrrr.
And now I'm off to read an article entitled "Children of the Corn Syrup," wherein the author argues that our nation's obesity epidemic is caused in part by an excess use of fructose resulting from the growth of the farm in post-World War II America and exacerbated today by our continuing war effort. Now why couldn't I think of something so brilliant?