What a dick

Let us never forget this auspicious anniversary of the day our Very Stable Genius with Great and Unmatched Wisdom blithely retweeted at 4:31 am a "rock on" tweet about his "integrity sir" from a supporter named catpenis.

I’m kind of a big thing over at Politicked ...

It’s our first show back after five days off

and I somehow, somewhere (I honestly don’t remember) managed to knock a few square inches off a week’s worth of scabbing from last week’s epic stumble in the dark and bleed all over everything I came in contact with tonight. I was more worried about my partially healed ripped-off fingernail catching on something and re-ripping itself off, but at least it behaved. And yes, I’m flipping you off in this photo, but don’t take it personally. And stop trying to make this about you.

Otherwise, tonight’s show KICKED ASS (thanks, pre-drunk audience!) and I was in really good voice for my stratospheric money notes, though I’ve learned twice now that I don’t cover well when I white-out on a line. Thankfully I’m surrounded by very quick, helpful actors to save me from melting into a puddle of flop sweat both times it happened.

You have only five more times to see our awesome little show ... and our awesome little winkies. Come join us!

Ugly rehearsal ties and zip-off rehearsal sweatshirts can mean only one thing: our first Full Monty dance rehearsal!

We’re all getting good at retying our ties over and over for each run-through. And at finding penis euphemisms.

The end of every show brings with it a certain sense of loss:

You miss the people you worked with, you miss the experiences of learning and creating and performing you shared, you miss the thrill of being on stage doing something you love and hopefully something you’re proud of ... and you plain-old miss having something to DO with your free time.

One Man, Two Guvnors was the fourth in a string of shows I’ve LOVED being a part of this year. And now it’s over. The set and costumes and props have been struck, the huggy goodbyes have been shared among the cast and crew and director, the small mountains of socks and T-shirts and other potential necessities I always keep backstage are being washed as we speak, and my Google calendar already says HAIRCUT! at 5:30 tomorrow. I’m lucky in that I went right to another audition tonight to keep my theater-magic momentum going and I start this week on a massive pro bono book-editing project I’ve taken on, so I won’t have the letdown I could. But I already miss the inspiredly wacky people I’ve spent almost every night for the last eight weeks with and I especially miss the upper-class British twit Stanley Stubbers, who gave me my first and no doubt last opportunity to say “I bunked on physics and spent my lessons in the radiation cupboard trying to make my penis glow” every night on stage with a straight face staring into the eyes of a dangerously funny actor who constantly had me THIS CLOSE to cracking up no matter which of us said what. And that last sentence pretty much sums up everything I love about being in a constant parade of shows. So I’m going to bed a little sad about everything I’m going to miss about the whole experience of this show but more than thrilled that I’m lucky enough to have so much to miss. Good night!