Oil Can!

Remember that time that I get to do new and exciting theater? The time that I get to play an amazing part based on an actual woman who was a total badass? And remember that time that I haven’t had to learn new music for anything in over a year….? (Record scratch sound for emphasis please)

But seriously...no idea. 

That’s right. I am out of shape. Woefully out of shape. When your body is out of shape, you can tell. You can feel it, you can see it. It’s wicked obvious.  Like this here, usually that man possess an ass that I want to gently gnaw on, here I want to take his blood pressure because I’m genuinely concerned.

I think there's probs an "I am the Fatman" joke that can be made here, but I don't want to make too much fun of someone who was once arrested for assault...of his own mother.

I’m vocally fat.

I am vocally picked last for dodge ball.

My voice is stained with Cheeto dust and code red mountain dew.

I think sometimes that I have a bizarre form of seasonal affective disorder, I’m fine with the winter, I love winter, scarves are great and I have a fur collection that would make a hairless cat jealous. No, in August I become a hideous zombie that drags its ass around. I don’t know if it’s the weather or that there aren't any holidays in august (except my birthday which is totes a holiday) but my brain just turns off. It’s like in some sort of awful sleep mode. Which means now the time has come for rehearsal and I have to dust off the cobwebs and add some wd-40. I need a training montage for my brain, but you can’t just put it in a grey sweat suit and expect it to box meat in a deep freezer. I have to hop in and stretch and condition or I’m going to get left behind in the dust.

Oh ya, and I have to find clothes for everyone…

Except for Patrick Bateman. He gets no clothes. 

 That’ll help for now I guess….

In the Name of all Holy Bejesus!

Okay Okay, I've been slacking with the blogging I get it! I will slack no more and I will get you all together on the same page as me for this Night of the Living Dead drama!

I've now watched NOtLD again as well as several documentaries (recommended by Scott and my cast mates) in order to prepare. The version of NOtLD was some special edition that had some bizarre added filler crap with some leader of Satanist Church, or Goatee Enthusiast Club President, I wasn't really clear on that part. The fact of the matter is whoever decided that those scenes were necessary in their telling or retelling, should be taught the whole "If it ain't broke, don't add weird facial hair to it" mantra (that's totes a mantra, look it up I swear I didn't just make it up right now...).

                            Awwwww ya, there's that sweet sweet goatee...said no one ever. 

Somewhere during my Junior or Senior year of high school one of my good friends and myself decided to go to the Loop (because we're obviously the coolest.) and do cool Loop activities that you do when you're 17. Incidentally, the same activities that now as a 28 year old crotchety woman I find annoying when they're taking place in my neighborhood, which is the Loop (because remember I'm the coolest). We took our selves straight into Vintage Vinyl and we purchased several DVD's (cutting edge for 2002) one of which was NOtLD, after buying bottomless root beer, (and drinking it RESPONSIBLY, the Scientology root beer story is for another day, trust me.) clove cigarettes (rebels!) and god knows what else it was time to head home and review our movie purchases. 

This was a more simple time for myself, I did not watch anything scary, the first two and a half minutes of The Ring scared me so shitless I only watched PBS for a good 3 months 

                                   EHMEHGED!!! I need Reruns of Are You Being Served NOW!!!! 

                                           

                                 Phew. That was a close one. Thanks for saving me Mr. Humphries. 

                     

Wait...where was I going with this...right:

This was the very first movie that I had managed to sit through start to finish that scared the bejeesus out of me. It scared me and began my love of all things zombie. Now I know that in recent years Zombies have gotten extremely sexy and over used but these zombies were the original, they were vacant, slow, eating machines that you had to kill first. Ever since that day I've wanted all things creepy and gross in my life. 

                                                                   Quack the Ripper! 

And he's available on Etsy: http://www.etsy.com/shop/shrunkenheaddotcom?ref=l2-shopheader-name Just remember that if for some reason you missed my birthday...ahem.