I went to a readers’ theater presentation of The Real Inspector Hound yesterday (which was absurd), and found myself a half-stroll from here. (Thanks, notrelatedtoted!)
Mr Potter, was that poem you wrote about throwing baseballs at a target autobiographical? If so, we need:
- A Spokane-to-SoCal plane ticket for Potter;
- A copy of Surfing with Mel in Word or PDF format, saved on a flash drive; and
- A baseball with a cavity carved in it to accommodate said flash drive.
Now then, Mr Potter: See those big corner windows?
So close.
Like Moses catching sight of the Promised Land.
Thanks a bunch, Joshua.
A crushing weight of Biblically-informed expectation — but still lighter than the one Southern Expat has heaped upon my narrow shoulders.
Are there friendlier places to drink?
The Eagle and Child?
I’ll start warming up the arm.
I’d try ‘high’ for about 30 seconds, but be sure to cover it with waxed paper.
I got to play a part in a local production of Inspector Hound – Moon, the substitute theater critic with certain O.C tendencies. The theater troupe was called the Too Busy to Play Players and we performed at the time in the banquet hall of a local B & B.
It was a lot of fun – absurdly so.
Ironically, I did it as a one-off as a replacement for the actor originally cast in the role. A substitute actor playing a substitue critic. Is that a repetition within a rotation within a certification? Or is it the other way around?
JOB
‘A substitute actor playing a substitute critic.’
Daniel Day-Lewis, eat your heart out.
‘Is that a repetition within a rotation within a certification? Or is it the other way around?’
If I remember correctly,
Step One is the Rotation.
Step Two is the Kick.
Step Three is the Prestige.