uberreiniger: (illusion skull (enrania))
First of all, this has been making the rounds on teh internets today, so odds are you've already seen it, but if you haven't, then you owe it to yourself to go check it out:

Katrina: The Gathering

Obviously, it's a lot more fun if you've ever played Magic: The Gathering, but if you haven't hopefully you'll be able to figure enough out to appreciate the humor. And does it make me a bad person that viewing this makes me yearn to play Magic again?

I find the memetic nature (in the Jungian sense,) of LJ friends lists fascinating. Every now and then you'll have a day where all the unrelated people on your friends list are facing the same problem. And I don't mean the generic ones everybody faces, I mean very specific problems. Today, it was rude women drivers in SUV's. Like I told [livejournal.com profile] kansaschica, people love to talk about men using their cars to overcompensate for penile deficiencies, but I seriously believe that penis envy is alive and well and that it exists and thrives in the form of small, rude women who drive their SUV's badly. I'm not kidding. Next time an SUV driver does something rude or downright stupid in traffic, look at them very closely. Odds are it will be a woman. Mind you, I'm not saying women are bad drivers. But I am saying that SUVs seem to attract a certain type of woman to drive them.

Don't read if you have a weak stomach. )
uberreiniger: (scary masks)
I am pleased to announce that my plugged up ear is no more. What I mean is not that I no longer have an ear, but that I now have an ear which no longer has nasty greyish-reddish-brownish clots of wax strangling it. My ear canal is clean and it feels goooood.

Other good news is I get a night off from rehearsal tonight. Bad news is that I have to go down to the theatre anyway since the director of The Crucible is having a mandatory "workshop" for the cast members. This is the second night of it, the one for all the people in Midsummer who couldn't make it last night. As I was leaving rehearsal last night, I peered through the door of the room he was using for this "workshop" and he had everyone in there engaged in some weird kind of expressionistic dance with lots of arm-waving and shuffling to some kind of trancey New Agey crystal-channeling music. What this has to do with witchcraft in 18th century Massachussetts, I have no idea.

I've been worried about this guy since I met him at auditions and especially since he sent out the email announcing these "workshops" that included the words "trust me." I expect a great deal of eccentricity from theatre directors - you have to be eccentric to want to do it in the first place as no rational person who values their comfort and sanity would want to - but if every rehearsal is going to be a fluffy-bunny New Age metrosexual love-in then it's going to be a loooong two months until showtime.

Oh well, since I won't really know until after I've experienced whatever he has in store tonight, I probably shouldn't even be talking about it and just go to bed instead. A pessimist is angry that he has to dance to metrosexual rave music. An optimist is happy that his ear is unplugged and his equilibrium restored, thus enabling him to both hear the music and remain upright while krumpin' along to it.

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July 2015

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