Saturday, February 25, 2012

Last Call

I am made-up. I am bejeweled. I am going to the Opera House as soon as my red bush tea is done and put in the thermos.
Hitting that road, yes, it is gray, it is chilly, it is not a night to want to go out, my hair is clean, I think I may have forgotten my deodorant which is a bad idea seeing how it gets to be about five thousand degrees (Fahrenheit) on that stage and I will say those lines (or a reasonable facsimile) one more time, one more time, one more time and then I'll be done with that, it'll be over and Lord, Lord, when I get my free beer tonight, I am going to enjoy it like nobody's business and it will be the most celebratory beer of my life.


That was a prayer. Or at least what passes for a prayer around this neck of the woods.


  1. Nothin' like free beer is there? :)

  2. enjoy the beer and break a know what I mean :) Amen!

  3. We have a community theater here in this little town and they hold open auditions. Sometimes I think about trying out.

  4. What's happening to Fabio?

    (and every time I come on your blog, the video starts playing below -- it's so weird. It's like someone is talking from somewhere --)

  5. Been a while since I stopped in at your place. Good time to visit, to hear a prayer. Every thought is a prayer. Every word. The simplest is "Thanks".
    Tip that beer in my direction, will ya? And enjoy the crap out of it.

    peace to you


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.