#soul pepper theatre | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

coffeejoshy · 1 year

Text

M. Ward - A Man in the Moon, or, An Attempt at Translation

Music, theatre, canvas, the ballet or the screen; these are luxuries for so many of us. ‘Privilege’ might even be more apt given the notion that art is largely seen as ‘a thing to be enjoyed but which is not essential; a frivolity’. Ethan Hawke (of all people) recently gave my favourite articulation of why the arts are so necessary: because until you experience a feeling so incredibly deep that gives you cause to wonder, to think “has anybody else ever really felt like this?”, you have no way of knowing just how essential art can be.

“That’s when art is not a luxury, it’s actually sustenance”, he puts it.

Recently I got to see M. Ward perform his 20th anniversary tribute to his indie-folk magnum opus ‘Transfiguration of Vincent’. It’s a dark album peppered with fleeting spots of bright, written in the throes of grieving after the titular Vincent O’Brien, a friend of Ward’s, passed away. We don’t learn much of anything specific about Vincent over the course of the album, and nor should we. What we do experience over the album’s course, however, is the breadth of emotions Ward experiences in relation to his friend, and the downward spiral that accompanies those feelings as he watches Vincent’s gradual slip from the mortal coil.

Describing the album is difficult for me, because I find it difficult to ‘rate’ (a silly thing music lovers occasionally do), or ‘praise’ a work of art so subsumed in the grief of its artist and the tragedy of its subject. Talking about art in this way feels insulting at times, and never more so than for works as intimate as this. These are songs to be felt, not described.

And yet here is the paradox; I feel so strongly about this album and its artist that not evangelising it feels as impossible a task as explaining the effect it has on me.

Anyway, here we are.

On stage, Ward has a curious presence. He’s more idiosyncratic than charismatic, and instead carries himself with quiet confidence, and his guitar with a crooked left elbow. He isn’t particularly talkative, but the little he did say gave the impression of an incredibly humble man, and his husky voice and greying hair gives him this air of folksy charm that’s really quite, well, charming.

In interviews this seems to be much the case as well; in one radio interview from 2009 when asked how he would describe his then new album ‘Hold Time’ he answered (hilariously) “well, it’s my new album and some people will like it, some people won’t”. Other interviews also see him coming across as reserved and painfully shy about his creative process, not because he’s afraid of giving away trade secrets, but because he’s almost dismissive of the validity of his methods and his art. He’s wilfully determined to refrain from explanations of his art’s ‘meanings’ beyond vague outlines, as was the case for 2020’s ‘Migration Stories’, in his words a “sci-fi fast-forward to a more silent night many generations from here to a maybe-era where movement is free again”.

While much of this likely amounts to wild postulation about a man’s internal feelings, if there’s one accusation that’s easy to level at Ward, it’s that he’s an old soul. He’s cited Neil Young, Daniel Johnston, Billie Holiday, Howlin’ Wolf, and John Mahey as influences (“Transfiguration” is a reference to a Mahey album with a similar title), he records everything analogue, and even completes his demos on a Tascam four-track that he’s owned since his teenage years. Sonically his music evokes shades of Nick Drake, early Dylan, Jackson C. Frank and even Bowie at times. In today’s context, even the model of a solo singer-songwriter writing intimate analogue guitar music feels like an archetype on the brink of extinction.

Above all, Ward seems captured by the task of creating music as timeless as that of his predecessors.

The point that I suppose I’ve been dancing around in all this exposition is that M. Ward’s music has affected me very deeply.

I’ve spent so much of recent years trying to consume as much music as I can, chasing new sounds and bizarre voices to fulfil some craving of curiosity that is never truly satiated for more than a short time. In all that noise, it’s a fortunate wonder I didn’t overlook Transfiguration of Vincent and other M. Ward projects for their unassuming modes. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully explain to someone the inward-puncturing existential grief that a song like “Dead Man”makes me feel, or the utter stillness that “Real Silence” gives me.

Crucially, though, I don’t think I need to try anymore. Writing this helps, for one, but it’s music like this that gives me the kind of unfathomable joys and sorrows that our friend Ethan Hawke was referring to. It’s music like M. Ward’s that reminds me why I need music, and though it may seem fairly obvious an observation (I suppose all the best ones are), it’s the reminder that some things cannot be described; they must be felt, transfigured by poets and writers into an essence distilled for the rest of us.

#m ward #monsters of folk #she & him #transfiguration of Vincent #indie folk #music reviews #nick drake #bob dylan #billie holiday #howlin’ wolf #John Mahey #daniel johnston #folk music #americana

29 notes · View notes

gustingirl · 2 years

Note

not rlly absurd but here we go

no matter what, wilson is a better cook and baker. the days they dont do takeout are the days wilson whips up a fantastic meal. house is endlessly and vocally jealous

wilson and cuddy (and sometimes ducklings, depends on seniority) have regular talk-shit tea parties. house is not invited but he knows about them and tried to spy once. they ended up sacking him with the bill and everything he heard was decoy conversation (did you know that the barnacle relative to its size-)

house helps wilson learn spanish by refusing to speak to him in english for days on end (and will torment the ducklings just for fun the same way) and takes full advantage of wilson's limited vocab to pepper him with affection. this backfires very quickly as wilson learns

while wilson encourages but doesnt participate, house is a closet musical theater nerd. pretty cool when his mayfield roomie alvie wrote that blockbuster broadway show about a founding father

wilson has stuffed animals and hes almost one hundred percent convinced house does too but to this day the evidence is circumstantial at best

they have both literally slept together on wilson's office couch during all nighter hospital stays and sometimes find excuses to do so before and during their relationship

the stint with the 82yo woman with syph (s1e8) lets say,, inspired house to write poetry. rlly intentionally bad poetry. he leaves sticky notes of terrible lines all over wilson's side of the bathroom. to this day wilson has never told a soul and has kept all of them

oh my god you're a fantastic human being and i love you, let me go in parts

they definitely have like cooking competitions and house is way more petty so whenever wilson cooks something delicious he has to pretend he doesn't like it

SO TRUE, remember that episode where house thought wilson and cuddy had fucked and wilson kept on fooling house about it? same shit, house would go to wilson to "corroborate" tea he had heard and he would be fooled every single time

i would have paid for one episode where house does not speak a word in english just to mess with everybody. i love the idea of wilson and house being competitive

LMAO NOT HAMILTON OMG and considering hugh was the inspiration for "you'll be back", then house was alvie's inspiration. house is definitely a musical theatre junkie but won't admit it bc he knows wilson will mock him

house definitely has stuffed animals bc wilson keeps on gifting them little ones and he can't throw them away but he also can't show wilson he keeps them so he hides them somewhere. when wilson brought it up one dinner, house had to start changing the hiding spot because wilson is always close to find them

but what about when the ducklings catch them? they come up with the most absurd excuses, at least house does. wilson can’t figure anything out so when cameron asks him in private he just confesses

ok but wilson doesn't even tell house about them, until one fight where house says wilson never cared about their relationship, wilson shows him all the post its he has been saving since day one.

then they have sex.

please send me more, you just made my day

#.q&a #house md #should i tag this as fics? ok #hilson fic #hilson headcanons #hilson

75 notes · View notes

daliasmay · 4 months

Text

“One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star”(c)Friedrich Nietzsche.

Elucien ballet AU

— But I can't fly. — How do you know if you've never tried?

Ballet is a hard labor in a flowers.

“There are no real diamonds that shine on stage. You can't see them. Only rhinestones shine. The stage doesn't tolerate anything real. Only artificial” (c)

The world of ballet is a cruel one.

It is like a vast gladiatorial arena, teeming with snakes and lions. All its grandeur is just a facade, all its glamour is just decoration. Behind the great vevlet of smiles and light, you'll never see the true face of this cruel world that spares no one. There's no place for the weak of heart.

Ballet is the art of the young.

Ballet is about endless improvement and endless struggle. It is an endless race, where you haven't got a chance for a pause. Run until you break and run until you die. Run until there is no air left in your lungs and your heart becomes a cut diamond.

When you live the ballet, you don't belong to yourself. You are just a part of a huge mechanism, and your life depends on how well that machine works. Every little cog has to be where it belongs, otherwise the mechanism will get stuck.

The ballet world is a battlefield, so raise your sword and fly towards the sun, higher and higher until it burns your wings.

Are you ready to sell your soul to the theatre for a moment of glory?

Be careful what you wish for. Every wish has the property to come true.

Some would say that only the principals are important on the stage, but can we enjoy the world without nature? Can we enjoy a song without music? Can we feel the charm of a play without the actors dancing behind the soloists? The dancers of the corps de ballet are small parts of the heart of the play. They don't get the main applause and flowers, but without them, dancing in the shadows of the principals, we would never have seen the beauty and atmosphere of the play.

One young lady is proud to be the part of this family and share a worlds with her friends from the ballet troupe. Standing at the foot of Mount Olympus, she gathers her strength and wishes to pass her milestone. She doesn't need to reach the top, she has already understood how cruel it is and how easily it has destroyed many dancers and their dreams, she knows that it is a dangerous game, but Elain Archeron has her own line and one day she will reach it.

Elain is a dancer in the corps de ballet of one of the most famous and oldest ballet stage in the world. Every year she dances with snowflakes and flowers in 'The Nutcracker', performs solo with her friends in 'Spartacus', delights children and their parents in 'Cipollino', and creates a magical atmosphere as part of a corps de ballet in 'Bayadère' with its shadows. You can see her in many different plays such as 'Anna Karenina' or 'Le Corsaire', 'Flames of Paris' or 'Don Quixote', even in 'Raymonda' and 'Giselle'. She is a part and a soul of all of it.

Every day she works hard in classes with her friends, meets with a smile her new solos, indulges in harmless gossip in the theatre canteen over a lunch with the most delicious eclairs in her life and a cup of tea. Sometimes, when everyone usually rush home, Elain opens the classroom and dances alone underneath the noise of old lamps.

Elain is enjoying her ballet life. From class to class, she gets closer to her little childhood dream - to be a little Princess in 'The Nutcracker' one day.

Step by step. She just need a time.

***

How did she end up here, in the theatre director's office? She doesn't know. She's not even sure of the reality of this scene.

Her alarm is about to go off. She will take her morning walk with Rocket, Cassian's pug, who is living with her for a while. Then she will check her flowers and some red peppers on the windowsill, drink her morning coffee and go to her morning class at the theatre, starting her working day with the 'Waltz of the Flowers'.

But it seems that instead of the lovely morning melody, there were ten phone calls from her choreographer at 5.35 a.m., who was screaming that she had to be at the theatre in 30 minutes or all hell would break loose.

“It seems like a reality”

She is here, sitting in the same room with Lucien Vanserra - the principal dancer of her theatre, who is also the main subject of many theathre gossip items.

He stand near the open window and played with white curtains.

In a family of gossips, life is hard, but fun enough. Sometimes her sisters in ballet, Nuala and Cerridwen, bring to work the latest issues of magazines with the most scandalous articles, sometimes she is witness to a heated discussion in the dressing room, the details of which are a source of prickle in her ears, but more often than not, everything goes wrong after a random message from Nesta or Feyre about another wild article, when their family chat opens the 'Gates of Hell'.

Oh, Dear God, how many of these wild things with Lucien are actually true?

“Well, what does that mean, that Vassa is expected to be out for the entire season?”

Vanserra opened the antique sideboard with documents and took out a weighty folder.

“It means what it means,” director blew the dust off an old, tattered file. “Thats why I'm telling all of you to be careful every day. It means, Lucien, that if I will see you again without a warm hat, I will cut off your fashionable head. It seems that you don't really need it anyway,” he said, “But first, I swear to you, I'll shave your red hair.”

Lucien laughed heartily and sat back down in the wooden chair.

Looking at him now, outside the classroom, Elain couldn't ignore the fact that this man had a perfect body which was made for a ballet and elegant choreography. The Mother Nature endowed him with perfect proportions.

He was tall and not every ballerina could dance a duet with him. Elain remembers her first 'Cipollino'. There was an emergency replacement and he was given the role of Count Cherry for three years - he was a perfect match for the tall Vivian who was dancing the role of Magnolia. And it was beautiful. Every single element showed the elegance of their roles. Not that she had any intention of ever being his partner, but even then she already understood that she would never dance with him. He was on another level of the ballet hierarchy.

The black fabric of his jeans was tight around his long powerful legs which seems like they were sculpted in bronze. His long hair were gathered in a careless bun on the back of his neck, and only a few locks stood out from the general ensemble of his hairstyle. Well, not only Elain ran like a crazy horse to the theatre today. Even the Gods can be taken by surprise.

“Morning, Lady,” Lucien smiled to her, showing his white fangs. “It is a crazy morning, isn't it?” he leaned closer to her ear, whispering conspiratorially, “Did this old piece of junk snatched you from the warmth embrace of your bed this frosty morning too?”

Elain giggled at him. He knew how to use his actor's skill. She lened closer to his ear, whispering “It was my choreographer.”

His brown eyes opened to meet hers, round as saucers “That toad?! I'll buy five eclairs for you. No! Seven! Can't imagine, how stressful it was to hear her voice at six in the morning,” he gasped loudly, leaning back dramatically in his chair.

“Lucien!” director cut in, “We're on the brink of the huge disaster in front of the most difficult month and you're making jokes!”

An old ballet star nervously looked into the darkness outside the window.

“Look at this drama queen,” the red head man ignored the director and continue whispering, “now there should be a dramatic sigh and shake of the head.”

If it weren't so sad and strange at the same time, it would be funny.

“Told you”

Lucien stand up from his place and open another sideboard with first aid kit. “You like to exaggerate, you know?” a couple of drops of sedative fell into a glass of water, “Everything can be decided,” Vanserra looked at Elain and peacefully smiled. “Just let's not panic next time, please. As I see, the problem was already solved?”

The director took a sip, “Ah, what about the toad,” he looked at Elain, “Did my dear friend told you the reason of this morning journey?”

“No,” Elain shook her head.

“Pretty good, I was hoping to announce these news myself,” the wind whistled outside the window as the clock chimed loudly in the stillness of a winter morning. “Elain, my dear little star, I'm so happy to appoint you as a Princess in 'The Nutcracker' in the current season.”

The last words stopped Elain's world for the eternity of the moment. She had the feeling that even the old, annoying clock was not making any more noise and the storm outside the window stopped its song.

“We've consulted with the teaching staff and have decided that you would be a good fit for the role,” the director put the old folder back in the sideboard and returned to his chair, “Your name will appear on the new schedule and on the poster today.”

“Th-thank you,” she said, “I will not fail your trust.” She didn't know what to do. Yesterday she had been texting with Nuala and Cerridwen about the Chinese and Arabian dances, and within a few hours she had got the role of the Princess. It was like Clara's beautiful dream.

“You have no chance of failure,” he smiled at her, and after a moment, Elain smiled back at him with uncertainty. She nodded her head and left the director office in silence.

The first voices of the theatre staff began to replace the morning silence and darkness of the corridors. Elaine decided to do the breathing exercises which Nesta had told her about before her first big stage performance.

It was as if her heart was ready to jump out of her chest at any moment.

And one frosty morning become a wild snowy day.

She will dance with Lucien Vanserra in a duet.

She will be a Princess in 'The Nutcracker'.

“That is all.”

She opened her eyes to see that Lucien had stopped in front of the large window. The light from the street lamps fell on his sharp profile and only served to accentuate the cruel beauty of his face, illuminating it with artificial light as if he were a silent, hidden deity, encased in an ancient statue.

“That is all, Lady Archeron, there will be no mercy anymore.” He gave her a sad smile and left her alone in the corridor.

If you have read this far to the end, I salute you. I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. May all your cherished wishes come true and may all your loved ones always be by your side. Be happy and healthy🩵☃️🎄

I wanted to write a little summary, but yeah, here I am, sitting with vocabulary since the 1st of December, trying to get something out of my head and make my drafts more logical, and it seems like characters lives their own lifes and a little summary is too easy way for them.

Sorry for the mistakes, my English grammar is very bad, as my vocabulary lol, but I hope, I explained well my idea in this little text 🩵

P..S. It is very-very important. Elain is 23 and Lucien is 30 👁🫦👁 Don't judge the woman.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elucien #pro elucien #elucien fanfiction #acotar au #acotar fanfiction #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron #christmas au #the nutcracker

6 notes · View notes

parfumieren · 1 year

Text

New York (Parfums de Nicolaï)

While going to art school in Manhattan, I lived in a claustrophobic railroad apartment on 43rd and 8th -- the heart of good old seedy pre-Disney Times Square. The apartment (an illegal rebuild in a building zoned strictly for business) belonged to an artist and her filmmaker husband. In exchange for room and board, I nannied their delightful two-year-old and stretched endless painters' canvases in the upstairs studio, where I could actually see the sky.

Only the width of 43rd Street separated my tiny bedroom from that monument of sleaze, the Times Square Hotel. The room right across from mine housed a young drag queen who often sat in front of her dressing room mirror, smoking Virginia Slims and examining her exquisite face for flaws. In this cold and ugly city, we were two loners connected only by the view from our windows. Yet in the hours I spent watching her watching herself, I felt a sense of wordless connection to this lovely, remote stranger. She was my New York.

That winter, every plywood wall around every construction scaffold in the city seemed to be plastered with posters advertising Rattle and Hum, the documentary film chronicling U2's Joshua Tree tour. As a longtime fan needful of distraction from the grey city streets, I went to see it in the theatres two or three times. Its iconography - deserts, highways, endless stretches of open sky -- proved a potent consolation for a small soul stranded on a hostile urban planet.

The first time I sampled Parfums de Nicolaï's New York, I was sharply startled by the inconsistency between its name and its aim. What, if anything at all, does this painted-desert fantasy have to do with the city? There's no sagebrush, no sweetgrass there. No space.

Then I remembered that when I lived in Manhattan, hemmed in all sides by concrete and stone, I longed for nothing more than to be airlifted to Joshua Tree or some similar wide-open landscape in the American Southwest. In fact, I doubt I could have understood this perfume if I hadn't lived there and been desperate to get out. New York the fragrance is not meant to provide a portrait of New York the city, but rather an olfactory mirage of the sort all city-dwellers dream about-- sky and land that stretch all the way to eternity, and no damn buildings in the way.

The best way to describe this unisex fragrance is "L’Heure Bleue Pour Homme”. It encompasses many of the same notes (citrus, carnation, vanilla) and special effects (that ineffably soft focus! those melancholy shadows!). But just as Guerlain arrived at Mitsouko by marrying a fresh peach accord to a pre-existing chypre, his descendant Patricia de Nicolaï took the supremely feminine L'Heure Bleue and Americanized it with a dash each of tumbleweed and testosterone. The results shimmer with desert heat-- but a desert of the sort ruled by Priscilla the Queen, elegant, tough, tolerant, embracing all genders, generous to a fault with her great, big, wide-open heart.

When I wear New York, I think of my New York-- a boy teetering on the cusp of womanhood, hiding her tender young heart beneath the brittle exterior of a grand courtesan. I wonder where she is, what window she looks out of now, what she sees in her mirror. If I could, I would go back in time, take her out of that dark little hotel room in the city, and give her all the skies in the world to play beneath. I'd tell her: Forget the mirror. You're perfect, you are.

Scent elements: Lemon, petitgrain, bergamot, lavender, artemesia, pimiento, pepper, patchouli, cedar, vanilla, leather, amber

#parfümieren #Parfums de Nicolaï #New York #perfume review

9 notes · View notes

don-lichterman · 7 months

Text

Now Playing is ‘Alone Together’ by the Oscar Peterson Trio from the J.A.T.P In Tokyo Album, Live At The Nichigeki Theatre 1953. The Improv Cafe Radio Station only plays live Jazz Music and New Weekly Shows Starting Soon!

by The Improv Cafe'

Live JazzThe Improv Cafe

The Improv Cafe'The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Take Five

We are thrilled to inform you that exciting new additions are being made to The Improv Cafe! In the near future, we will be presenting a captivating array of shows that will keep you glued to your seats. Amongst these highly anticipated treats are the Big Band Live Radio Show and the Vocal Jazz Radio Show. Our goal is to provide you with a unique and engaging listening experience that you won’t find anywhere else. Every week, we will be featuring a new Live Album to keep our audience engaged and entertained. Not only that, but we will also be hosting Live Concerts featuring legendary Jazz and Big Band Artists that will leave you mesmerized and longing for more. So come and enjoy the perfect blend of musical genius and engaging storytelling, only at The Improv Cafe!

Welcome to the All Live Jazz Radio Station, where we take pride in providing our listeners with only the best live jazz music.

Each and every song played on our station is guaranteed to be a live version, ensuring that you will always experience the true essence and energy of the jazz music genre. We understand the importance of authenticity and strive to bring you the most genuine performances by your favorite jazz musicians.

The commitment to providing the highest quality live jazz music makes us the ultimate destination for true jazz lovers. Tune in to our station and let us take you on a journey filled with soulful melodies and captivating rhythms that will leave you wanting more. Thank you for choosing The Improv Cafe’, the worlds first and only ‘All Live Jazz Radio Station’ as your go-to source for all things live jazz!

TOP Chart on The Improv Cafe'

The Improv Cafe'

1 Duke Ellington - Duke Ellington Introduces Ella Fitzgerald

2 Duke Ellington - Duke Ellington Introduces Ella Fitzgerald

3 Duke Ellington - The Old Circus Train Turn-Around Blues

4 Ella Fitzgerald - St. Louis Blues

5 Ella Fitzgerald - So Danco Samba (Jazz Samba)

6 Ella Fitzgerald - Happy Blues

7 Ella Fitzgerald - Satin Doll

8 Ella Fitzgerald - It's All Right With Me

9 Ella Fitzgerald - Wave

10 Ella Fitzgerald - Mack the Knife

NPR NEWS NOW

FOUR (4) Times Daily

The Improv Cafe Radio Station is not just any ordinary radio station but the premier hub for jazz enthusiasts all over the world.

For those who have a deep appreciation for live jazz performances, big band beats and vocal jazz music, this is the perfect station for you. We take pride in our carefully curated playlist that features a collection of the most legendary jazz artists of all time.

Our team of DJ’s is also excited to announce the launch of our new shows that will provide jazz fans up-to-date information on the latest trends, interviews with top performers and industry professionals. Furthermore, we are thrilled to announce our debut of the Big Band Live Show, which will showcase the best modern day jazz music. Not only that, we will also have shows hailing the top jazz clubs and record labels all over the world. Respected labels and jazz clubs such as Blue Note, Village Vanguard, Impulse, and Verve, among others will be featured.

So, stay tuned to the Improv Cafe Radio Station for all your jazz needs and be a part of our community of jazz enthusiasts who share the same passion as you do.

The Improv Cafe'

Wed, 20

Thu, 21

Fri, 22

Sat, 23

Sun, 24

Mon, 25

Tue, 26

17:42 The Dave Brubeck Quartet - Take Five

17:36 J.A.T.P In Tokyo - Alone Together

17:32 Ella Fitzgerald - The Very Thought Of You

17:28 Nina Simone - I Loves You Porgy (Live)

17:17 Art Pepper - Landscape (Live)

17:11 Jaco Pastorius - Dear Prudence

17:06 Ella Fitzgerald - Any Old Blues

17:02 Ella Fitzgerald - Teach Me Tonight

16:58 Ella Fitzgerald - Something To Live For

16:52 Greyboy Allstars - Jan Jan

16:48 Billie Holiday - My Man (Live At The Newport Jazz Festival/1957)

16:44 Ella Fitzgerald - Open Your Window

16:42 Ella Fitzgerald, Count Basie - Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone

16:29 Art Pepper - Body And Soul (Live)

16:14 Keith Jarrett - Köln, January 24, 1975, Part Ii a

16:01 Hans Zimmer - Inception Medley

15:57 Ella Fitzgerald - Just One Of Those Things

15:53 Keith Jarrett Trio - Wooden Flute Piece

15:49 Louis Armstrong and The All Stars - 'C' Jam Blues

15:43 Hans Zimmer - Journey To The Line

15:39 Ella Fitgerald - Spring Can Really Hang You Up

15:02 John Coltrane - Tonight's Live From The vault is Live At The Village Vanguard

14:55 Chris Botti - The Very Thought of You

14:45 Dave Brubeck - All The Things You Are (Live)

14:42 Ella Fitzgerald - Frim Fram Sauce

14:36 Louis Armstrong and The All Stars - Stars Fell On Alabama

14:30 Ella Fitzgerald - Fine And Mellow

14:27 Yanni/Royal Philharmonic Concert Orchestra/Shardad Rohani - One Man's Dream

14:19 Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington - The Old Circus Train Turn-Around Blues - Complete Rehearsal

14:11 Ella Fitzgerald, Duke Ellington - Diminuendo In Blue And Blow By Blow

14:07 Ella Fitzgerald - Crazy Rhythm

14:03 Ella Fitgerald - What's Going On?

14:01 Ella Fitzgerald - Across The Alley From The Alamo

13:58 Ella Fitzgerald - Why Don't You Do Right

13:48 The Dave Brubeck Quartet - For All We Know

13:45 Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald - Jam With Sam

13:37 George Benson - Love Ballad (Live)

2 notes · View notes

zibiscusloon · 2 years

Text

Art block’s a bitch so I used a random question generator to info dump some facts of the Disaster Utensils crew. Here’s the results. Just decided to do the kids btw-

Languages they Speak.

Newsie: English and Hebrew (it’s choppy at best- but she insisted to Luci that she wanted to learn more languages, she’ll get there.)

Sloane: English

Chippy Chop: English

Amara: English, French, and Spanish. (She has no memory of even learning French- as she learned when she was still Amaranth, she’s still managed to retain this knowledge though.) She was taught Spanish by Pepper as a sort of in-law hang out.

Knifekid: He doesn’t have the best vocabulary due to his parents genuinely thinking teaching him to talk wasn’t necessary, but his English is getting better.

Jamie: Italian is his first language (he learned it from Sadie), and English was his second.

Favorite Animal:

Newsie: She likes goats. She thinks they’re neat and funny.

Sloane: Worms. This shouldn’t be suprising considering her brother is one-

Chippy Chop: She’s a cat person. She’s tried to sneak in stray alley cats back home before. (She’s suckered Nebuluna into housing them a few times-)

Amara: Doves. She doesn’t exactly remeber why, she just regards them as helpful creatures (they often helped her in her past life to send letters to Chalice)

Knifekid: He loves ladybugs. Though he’s often scared that he’ll accidentally squish em..

Jamie: Racoons. He thinks they’re crafty and clever.

Favorite Music Genre:

Newsie: She’s a theatre kid. C’mon her dad is the Devil, ya think she doesn’t have an appreciation for musicals?

Sloane: Swing. She would often listen and play it throughout the Express.

Chippy Chop: Country. Yes. Country.

Amara: She’s kinda embarrassed by how much she loves classical & piano, as it falls into the category of stuff she considers dumb.

Knifekid: Blues. He just loves the beat to em.

Jamie: He’s a jazz fan.

Can they Cook?:

Newsie: Yep! Newsie’s a rather good cook! She’s taken lessons from Ross and often helps the imps of Hell out with dinner prep.

Sloane: She understands how to make deserts, anything else, she doesn’t particularly want to try..

Chippy Chop: NO. NO. DON’T LET HER.

Amara: She’s accidentally set the kitchen on fire once and doesn’t trust herself again..

Knifekid: Not at all, he likes reading cook books though! Even if he understands nothing-

Jamie: He knows how to brew up alcohol-

Their Dream Jobs:

Newsie: She wants to run her own actual real paper station. One that isn’t a soul-stealing-scam. She intends to be a great journalist!

Sloane: She wants to move up from attendant to conductor of the Phantom Express. She wants to stay in her family’s business.

Chippy Chop: She wants to oddly go into medicine. She wants to develop new charms and potions to help the Isles (regardless of how much she terrorizes em now-)

Amara: She’s trying to be the Guardian of the Rugged Ridge. She has no real other back up plan..

Knifekid: Mundane as it may sound, he wants to be a grocery clerk! This.. may be confusing.. but he wants a genuinely simple, easy job, instead of anything to big. He’s lived his whole life like that already..

Jamie: He’s content with the job he has now. The Moonshine Mob are all like family to him (including his own family-) he has no plans to change anytime soon.)

Can They Dance?:

Newsie: Nope. Not even a bit. They are a total klutz and step on their own feet. (Can dance a lil with a partner though)

Sloane: She dances pretty decently! Though she prefers group dances as opposed to just doing it herself.

Chippy Chop: Not good. But she’ll still do it anyway-

Amara: She’s only ever done ballroom dances and genuinely hates dancing so..

Knifekid: What is dance?

Jamie: YEP. Unlike everyone else, this fool actually has a sense of rhythm!

#cuphead #cuphead oc #oc #cuphead show #the cuphead show #cuphead: ddwtd #disaster utensils #rambles #and now I’m gonna go collapse 💕

6 notes · View notes

cant-be-thamed · 2 years

Text

London, July 6

Today, like other days was exuberantly beautiful. However, started off with what can only be described as as a bang.

Lauren and I went all the way to the Drury Lane Theatre for our showing of Steel Magnolias, only for us to discover that the show was not there in fact, but at the Drury Lane Theatre in Waterloo, Illinois, where I had bought the tickets instead. We were able to laugh it off, but it was mortifying and a large waste of time and money (despite the theatre graciously giving us a full refund), and I do blame Dr. Banks partially for advertising the show when it was not here at all.

However, after poking around the newly refurbished theatre courtesy of the kind doorman, we got coffee at a precious local shop before meeting up with Caroline and Morgan at Buckingham Palace.

It was an incredible place to be. I’ve seen much of Buckingham Palace in pictures and on television, and though it feels a bit more lowkey and tourist-y in person, the reverence and royalty of it all does not go neglected. The weather was lovely so after hanging around for a bit longer we walked down some side streets and eventually stumbled upon what we quickly began referring to as “The Madison Avenue of London”.

Expensive (highly highly expensive, at that) shops, clean streets, civilians in extraordinarily fancy business attire, etc. and though we made the intentional decision to not duck into any of the pricey stores, our eyes and wallets watered just as much as our mouths at the beauty and choke-worthy prices of some of the luxurious items we passed. We walked for too long, in my humble opinion, before settling down as a Cafe Concerto, what I deemed comparable to Olive Garden in consistency/frequency of existence, but probably a bit fancier. I ate an appetizer of Italian bread as well as tiramisu and they were both just lovely.

The evening consisted of finding one last bar to rest at where I had something called Kiki’s Mojito, a pineapple/raspberry purée mojito with the quintessential lime and mint, and it was also lovely. But as I sat there, I came to the realization that I don’t like the taste of alcohol enough for it to be something I would choose over my drug of choice, dr. Pepper. I would much rather save my taste buds and money. And after that, we trekked over to the Wyndham Theatre to see the play production of Life of Pi.

There are honestly not enough good words in the English language to express how blown away I was by this production. I would cry, and not just because the story was moving, but because every cog in the performance was beautiful and masterfully crafted. The puppetry, the physicality, the stage presence and directions, the set, the sound and lighting working cohesively, the delightful actors. It was so wonderful. As I sit and write this, I’m even considering trying to see it once more from a lower vantage point prior to leaving London. I really hope this show is given a Broadway run, because it deserves one. It made my interesting day so worthwhile, and it reminded me, amidst a chaotic first couple of days (physically and mentally), that these kinds of experiences are not only the reason I’m here in London, but often the reason I feel alive. This production was something I personally refer to as soul salve.

2 notes · View notes

serenfloras · 2 years

Text

posted this on my priv bird app but i’d do alm and celica’s battle as cheesy and dramatic as possible. they have a fuck ton of romeo and juliet-esque moments in that damn game already so just go full with it i am a lit student that would be a theatre kid were i richer. i will pepper in the drama as i rewrite it bear with me

so instead of “trust in falchion” or whatever the fuck that scene was meant to be celica instead /pulls/ falchion from the head of mila (idk if celica can wield it but since she’s also a “child of fate” i assume she can) and starts fighting alm with it. the royal sword gets fucking kicked out of his hands and he has to wield the weapon celica dropped before her soul was sold— beloved zofia. symbolic of the kingdom he was fighting for at the start. celica’s kingdom, his beloved’s kingdom.

is is clear that our girl celica is in full offense and barely in control of her soul anymore, her vision clouded by duma as if she were reborn (see: heroes), and alm wouldn’t dare hurt her. he can’t. so he keeps on defending, calling out to her, even as his body gets more and more bruises. we would be able to get this part playable because we deserved it, hordes of witches attacking alm while celica (who is undefeated) would just keep getting stronger. her portrait would be painful to look at, a princess fallen to the abyss due to a false promise. alm’s battle quotes would be painful, with whispers of “come back to me” or just calls of her name as his health diminishes.

it’s a scripted battle. he loses. you feel like you lose too.

alm loses beloved zofia too, and has no weapons as celica tosses him against the skull of mila. even so, as she’s about to kill him, you can see her eyes full of pain and tears rolling down her face. he smiles and places a hand on her cheek, saying that his life was always hers, and admits that this one battle he could never win. his stomach is pierced by falchion as he kisses her, the wicked spell thus broken.

celica finally comes to realize what has happened, her beloved dead by falchion’s blade, and she embraces him, crying out his name. *then* we’d get mila’s warm, soothing voice, speaking of a miracle caused by the children of fate, to trust in their love that the falchion blade would never bring him harm.

that scene of falchion healing celica happens but instead of celica it’s alm, and he falls right into her embrace, waking up. they cry and hug and she kisses him back, before they realize a bigger battle lies ahead. they had a mad god to slay after all. they swear to be by each other’s side, and celica hands falchion to him, saying she’d rather fight with her kingdom’s heirloom, another affirmation of her role as zofia’s princess.

hand in hand, they fight to free valentia from war and madness— together.

#don’t mind me i just love some drama #i actually love alm and celica but id certainly like for alm to have some Damsel Moments of his own #two bisexual legends in love. love to see it #is this me wanting an actual battle against fallen celica? yes #diversity win your girlfriend who got possessed by a war god and about to kill you is bi #fire emblem #fire emblem echoes #fire emblem echoes: shadows of valentia #alm x celica #fire emblem echoes spoilers #i guess?

5 notes · View notes

openingnightposts · 6 months

Link

#HolliHarms #NewYorkTheater #OffBroadway.WestVillage #TheaterReview

0 notes

jonesy-and-max · 7 months

Text

part 13: The Line

Max drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his eyes darting to look at Jonesy from the very peripherals of his vision. He was attempting to read the expression on her face, searching for any kind of sign that she might know that something might be off. The guilt of what had happened between him and her sister had finally begun to sink its teeth into his mind. He knew he fucked up, he tried to tell himself that it was nothing but an accident, but he knew the truth. It was no use trying to lie to himself when the swirling, floating, euphoria and dread he felt in the bubbling stew of his stomach told him all he needed to know about how he truly felt about Gina Jones.

Jonesy held her gaze firmly out the window of the van, smoking a cigarette tightly between her lips, and tapping the ash out into the wind. She could feel Max’s eyes on her. Did he know? She blew smoke out the window and sucked on her upper lip. How could he know? That’s crazy, right? Can he hear my thoughts?? No, she chuckled internally, no no, pull yourself together, Jones. She looked at Max, who was, indeed, staring at her, his eyebrows scrunched with concern. She smiled at him like a distant cousin at a mandatory family function. Max waved politely.

They both turned from each other, unnerved.

Max pulled into the Dreamland Theatre parking lot, “Oh thank god.”

“What’s that?”

“I mean, like, oh thank god…we’re finally here! At the theater!” Max laughed and gestured emphatically.

“I know, right? It feels like it’s taken an absolute eternity for us to finally get to this fuckin’ movie, right?” Jonesy returned his laughter wearily.

Max hopped out of the van, stuffing his keys into his jacket pocket and taking a deep sigh. Jonesy followed suit, closing the door behind her, she took a moment to look at the stars that had washed over the night sky. They both still wore a tender, pink, domino mask on their faces from the pepper spray, but they had managed to clean themselves up just enough not to look concerning to the public.

Jonesy and Max were at a bit of a loss about what to do. Keeping secrets from each other was a foreign concept to them. They were always honest, always rushing to tell the other any new development in their lives. And when it came to girls? Any potential for sex and romance? These were headline news, top stories! Any other daily minutiae was relegated to absolute irrelevancy. Jonesy and Max’s hearts broke silently and longingly, unable to find the words that wouldn’t wound the other with their betrayal. They both walked briskly, noticeably silent, to the front of the theater. Neither knew how to pretend that everything was normal.

“Hey Max…” Jonesy found a scrap of courage and tried to come clean as they rounded the corner.

“Yeah, J-” Max began to reply before his eyes fell upon what he had been fearing all day, stopping him dead in his tracks.

The line for the latest Chain-Slaughter was even bigger than he had anticipated. Their adventure at Snap-Mart had delayed them just long enough for the line to grow healthy and fat.

Max stumbled, lightheaded from the interminable blows to the soul he had been enduring all opening day from the cold, cruel universe. He fell to his knees, striking the pavement with a rueful fist.

“Damn you,” He choked through gritted teeth, “Damn you all to HELL!” Max bellowed into the night sky.

Some of the people in the line turned to see what the commotion was all about, Jonesy flipped them off.

“Fuck off!”

Some scowled, others turned their attention back, away from the scene. Jonesy hooked her arm under Max’s and helped bring him to his unsteady feet.

“It’s okay, dude. It’s okay,” Jonesy tried to console him, “Hey, maybe it’s just not our night.” Though, with shame in her heart, she couldn’t help being excited that maybe she was off the hook. Maybe she could go see Jamie Reynolds after all without having to bail on Max. “We can go another time. We can go tomorrow!”

“Another time won’t be opening night!” Max roughly shrugged Jonesy’s hand off of his shoulder.

He snatched a bag of half-eaten popcorn from the trash and began to cram handfuls into his mouth. He took his spot at the end of the line, dropped his back against the brick wall and slid down to the pavement.

Jonesy frowned and looked down at her pal. Now might be as good a moment as any, she thought, He’s already bummed, what’s one more shitty thing to add onto this turd sandwich, right?

She opened her mouth, ready to let the words come out that would free her from this, frankly, miserable night, and maybe allow her to find some small moment of joy on her own.

“Jonesy?”

She heard her name, called by a small voice. Maybe it was her imagination? Jonesy looked around, trying to determine the source.

“Jonesy! Hey, Jonesy!”

There it was again. Someone was definitely calling her, but from where?

“Maaaax!”

Max poked his head out, his eyes instantly finding Louie Santiago in the distance, all the way at the front of the line.

“Louie??” Max lit up, hope and life returning to his wilted spirit.

Louie leaned out and waved frantically, “Max! Jonesy! Hey!!” He gestured for them to come over.

“Yo, what the fuck are you doing here!” Max ran to the front, Jonesy unenthusiastically trotting behind him.

“Why, saving your spot in line of course,” Louie winked from underneath his sheep dog-like, black curls, “While you were just getting your mother’s insulin to her before she died.”

Max squinted for a moment, but quickly picked up what Louie was putting down, “Yes! My dear, sweet, bedridden, sick, sick, mother. Thank you so much! Now we can slip right back in where we left, thanks to you!”

“Any time, pal-o-mine!” Louie nudged Jonesy with his elbow.

She rolled her eyes.

If Azrael was Max’s partner in supernatural investigation, Louie was Max’s partner in crime. He was look-out, diversionary master, ears-to-the-pavement, and drummer for Jonesy and Max’s band, the thirteen year old miscreant was always there to get his mentors out of a jam.

“Hey, so! I got a surprise for you guys!” Louie winked, or maybe he winked, it was hard to tell underneath all the curls. He pulled out his drumsticks from his back pocket and used the wall of the Dreamland Theatre as his percussive instrument. He takka-takka-takka’d on the brick for dramatic effect as he made his bandmates sweat with anticipation.

“Ok, dude! What??” Jonesy grabbed the drumsticks from the kid’s hands.

“Oh!” Louie seemed to have gotten lost in his own drumroll, “I got us a huge gig! Biggest spot we’ve ever played!”

“A paying gig?” Max was suspicious, but excited.

“Cash!” He tried to grab his sticks back from Jonesy, who continued to hold them out of reach.

Jonesy and Max raised an eyebrow and side-eyed each other, “We’re listening,” they said in unison.

“Yes!” Louie started in triumph, “Ok, so my cousin Stephanie, she’s having her quinceañera next month and they need a live band! So, of course,” he nudged Jonesy with his elbow.

Jonesy swatted away his little elbow, “Stop that!”

“I said that I know a band that’ll play on short notice!” He paused for dramatic effect, a big goofy smile on his face staring expectedly at Jonesy and Max’s expressionless faces, “Us, guys! We’re the band I was talking about, dudes!”

“A quinceañera?” Jonesy asked flatly, and repeated herself. “A quinceañera?”

“A quinceañera, dude?? Really??? A quinceañera??” Max threw his hands up in the air. He turned and walked a step before spinning back around. He opened his mouth, thought for a moment and pulled Jonesy into a sidebar, “Uh…what’s a quinceañera, exactly?”

“It’s, like, a sweet sixteen, but for fifteen year old Spanish girls.”

“Ooooooh. Okay.” He thought again for a moment and turned back towards Louie, “We’re playing a fucking birthday party??”

Louie was looking at a bug on the cement carrying a popcorn crumb, “Huh?”

“Louie!” Max snaps his fingers, getting his little buddy’s attention, “Hey! We’re playing a teenage girl’s birthday party?” He enunciated pointedly.

“Yeah, dude! No thanks necessary, just doing my part for the band!’

“That is not punk!” Jonesy gestured emphatically, shoving the drumsticks back into Louie’s hands.

“It’s definitely not hardcore, either!”

“So who’s in the pit in this scenario?!”

“Your abuela?! Throwin’ elbows?!”

“Uncle Bob, just huckin’ your little cousins all over the goddamn place?!”

“Oh, one time my abuela did spit on a cop…”

Max cut Louie off, “Even if we did play a fifteen year old’s birthday party, what the fuck are we even supposed to play?”

“Our only good song is called “I Fucked Your Mom!” Jonesy was beside herself, “So what you're telling me, to my face, is that your cousin’s parents were cool with hiring your band called “Butt-Head,” that mainly sings about jerking off and mutilating nazis, mind you, for a teenage girl’s once and only fifteenth birthday celebration…?”

“I thought maybe it’d give us a chance to write some new material,” Louie sat on the ground, playing the cement with his drumsticks happily, completely failing to read the room, “Plus, they’re gonna give us fifteen hundred bucks! That’s, like, five hundred for each of us, or something!”

Jonesy and Max’s eyes widened, they looked at each other, raising their eyebrows.

“Well…” Max started.

“I mean…” Jonesy followed him up. “Fifteen hundred…”

“We have been meaning to stretch our legs, creatively…” Max posited.

“Why should we be tied down to one kind of music…” Jonesy supposed.

“I mean, really, music is so…” Max clucked his tongue and squinted his eyes, “It’s just a very fluid kind of art.”

Jonesy held a pair of prayer hands to her face, she squinted and nodded behind them, “Indeed.”

They nodded unpretentiously and with much sophistication at one another until finally they had reached their decision.

“We’ll do it.” They sold out in unison.

Max and Louie sat against the wall of the Dreamland Theatre discussing song ideas; homework sucks, parents suck, Uncle Bob sucks, that general idea, while Jonesy relaced her Keds. She needed somewhere to direct her nervous energy as she snuck a peak every few minutes at her Casio calculator watch. Time was ticking, if she was going to say something and bail on Max or make her peace with missing a night out with Jamie Reynolds she needed to make a decision, and she needed to do it soon.

Sweat matted her red bangs against her forehead and stuck up out of her backwards cap. She could feel her pits sticking to the inside of her shirt. The familiar feeling of flop sweat trailing down the small of her back made her shift and squirm in her skin. She could feel herself beginning to drown in her anxious indecision.

“Hey, Jonesy!” Max called her over.

“Yeah, Max!” She responded a little too loudly. “Yeah, what’s up?” She said, a little too perky.

Max raised an eyebrow, “Uh. Yeah, me and Louie were just trying to come up with song ideas. Wanted to know what you thought?”

“We already came up with…” Louie scratched his head underneath his cap with his drumstick, “15 Years Old, But You Could Die At Anytime,” and “(Mom and Dad) Just Admit I’m Your Favorite Kid.”

“And I was working on one called “I’m Glad You Fucked” and, again, with a ‘Mom and Dad’ in parenthesis at the end there.” Max added, stroking his scruff in contemplation.

Jonesy pushed the anxiety from her mind a minute and thought, “Those are actually really good. What about something like, ‘I’m fifteen, but who am I really?’ Play around with the meaninglessness of it all and the rage that comes with it.”

“Oh! Like, ‘I’m fifteen, but what does it mean! I never asked to be born! The only gift you’ve given me is this waking hell! I wanna unwrap my brains from my skull!’,” Max played with some lyrics and melody, “Like, something like that?”

“I love that!” Jonesy brightened up. She looked at Louie and then at Max, and she knew she couldn’t bail on him. No matter how much she wanted to spend the night dancing and getting close with Jamie Reynolds, opening day was their day. A new Chain-Slaughter didn’t just come out every year, and who ever knew if this was going to be the last sequel to come out in the theater, or ever for that matter? She bit her lip, and smiled warmly at Max, resigned in letting Jamie Reynolds go. It just wasn’t meant to be.

“You know what?” She extended her hand to Max, lifting him off the pavement, “Let’s give those kids a fucking show. I want those moms and dads and uncles, distant cousins, book club friends, and the whole fuckin’ catering crew to see just exactly what kind of band they hired!”

“Hell yeah, dude!” Max playfully punched her shoulder.

“Fuck the money!!” They both shouted in unison.

“I hope they call the fuckin’ cops!” Max laughed.

“I hope they try to fight us!” Jonesy cackled.

Louie laughed nervously and chewed his lip, “Uh…yeah. No doubt, no doubt.” He had forgotten just exactly who he was dealing with. “But, it’s also, like my family? So, like…?”

“Oh, you’re gonna get taken out of the fuckin’ will, my little friend.” Max grinned.

“You’re gonna have to move, sorry, dude.” Jonesy shrugged with feigned concern, “Butt-Head doesn’t fuck around! Farley and Greg can suck my dick!”

Louie chewed on his drumstick with a pained, performative laugh, “Yeah…suck your dick…” He said to no one.

Max could see that whatever cloud that was hanging over his best pal had finally passed. She seemed like her old self again. Now's as good a time as any. I mean, I’m being silly. She’s not even going to care that her sister ground one out on me in the alley. I’m being too in my own head about this, Max thought to himself with such little self-awareness it might actually be some form of brain damage.

“Hey, Jonesy!” Max said through his chuckles.

“Yeah, Max?”

“Can I tell you something?” Max asked, with all the thoughtfulness of a rabid baboon wearing a rocket launcher in a glass factory.

“Of course!” Jonesy responded, completely unaware that she was, all of a sudden, the metaphorical embodiment of a glass factory from a clumsy metaphor.

“Okay! But you have to promise you’re not going to freak out.” Max continued chuckling and wagged a discerning, but silly, finger at her.

“Okay, but why would I freak out?” Jonesy’s chummy chuckles were trickling away to nothing.

“Oh, you’re definitely going to freak out, but I need you to at least consider not freaking out.”

“Well, you’re freaking me out right now!”

“Stop freaking out!”

“I’m freaking out, dude!” Jonesy threw her hands in the air.

“Maybe, if you’re already freaked out, you’ll just ride that wave into what I have to tell you and maybe you won’t freak out so much?” Max considered aloud.

“You can’t be pre-freak out, I’m not an oven!” Jonesy paced and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket.

Max raised a finger in supposition, “I think you can, and I think you’re pre-freaked enough. So, here goes.”

He stepped back, wresting himself from Jonesy’s grip.

Max inhaled and scrunched his face, bracing himself for impact, “I-made-out-with-your- sister-and-it-was awesome-and-I’d-like-to-do-it-again-sometime.” He blurted out as fast as he could, as if it was one long word.

He slowly opened his left eye to look at Jonesy. Saying it all out loud, the realization of just how hard he had fucked up began to wash over him. It was at this moment it became all too obvious how much he was deluding himself and trying to convince himself that this wasn’t as big a deal as we all knew it would be.

Jonesy’s mouth was agape. The fuse had been lit, but it had not reached the dynamite yet.

Max unclenched, a big ol’ satisfied grin on his face, “That wasn’t so bad! I don’t know why I was so scared to tell you!” Apparently the self-awareness had been fleeting. Max was proud of himself, his arms akimbo. He looked at Louie, his eyes were visible and wide. Max began to feel less proud. Fear crept in.

“YOU??? WHAT?!?” The dynamite had exploded.

Max and Louie jumped back. Louie crossed his sticks into a makeshift cross for protection.

“Well…” Max offered, meekly.

“GINA?!?! Of all people?!? WHEN?! WHY?!?” Jonesy was untethered and her rage knew no bounds.

“Well…” Max couldn’t find anything else to offer her.

Louie opened his mouth and took a step towards Jonesy. Jonesy turned her head and stared at him with the burning rage of a thousand suns. If it had been possible, Louie’s face would’ve melted off, only a blistering sloppy, convulsing corpse would have remained.

“Oh, wow, is that a brick wall, no way!!” Louie quickly turned around and put his face nearly against the wall of Dreamland Theatre.

Jonesy stomped around, pacing in a circle. Her thoughts were on fire, churning and roiling like magma in an active volcano. The other people in line eyed her both cautiously and with anticipative glee.

“When?! When did this even happen?!” Jonesy asked again.

“Back at Snap-Mart,” Max avoided eye contact, “In the alley-”

“The alley?!?”

“You left and then we just kinda…clicked.” He enmeshed his fingers together.

“She’s the absolute worst, Max!! How could you?!” Jonesy’s whole face was flush, “Don’t you remember the time she put laxatives in my chocolate milk and I shit myself at the Boston Aquarium??”

“Yeah, that wasn’t -” Max tried.

“Or that time she tried to sell you to science!!” She cut off whatever dumbass thing he was about to say. She took off her hat and whacked him with it.

Max tried blocking the whacks, “To be fair! I met a lot of really cool people at that lab -”

She ignored him, “Or the time she said I was a malnourished bigfoot baby my family had found abandoned in the woods!” She put her hat back on and walked away from him.

“Oh come on, that was in, like, 5th grade!”

Jonesy turned and charged back towards him, “People were still calling me ‘Lil’ Squatch’ems’ when we were freshmen! It was in the yearbook!” She shoved Max.

“I know! Dude, I’m sorry!”

“Oh, he’s sorry!” She turned to the stranger in line in front of them, who had been trying to watch the whole scene out of the corner of his eye.

Max turned to the random guy and tried to explain, “It just, like, kinda happened!” Turning back to Jonesy, “It happened so fast, I was confused!”

Jonesy was in a full body clench. Her arms straight at her sides, her hands balled into fists. She bit her lip as she tapped her foot against the pavement.

“You’re a slut!” She blurted out.

“No, I’m not!” Max thought that was just factually incorrect, unfortunately.

“No, you’re not! But I’m gonna kick your ass now! I’m gonna fight you!”

“No you’re not.” Max smiled gently.

“No, I’m not! But you know what? I’m out.” Jonesy swiped her hands over each other in Max’s direction. “I can’t even deal with you right now!!”

“What do you mean ‘you’re out?’ Jonesy, come on, it’s opening day, dude.”

Jonesy came on the attack again, “Is she your girlfriend now or something?? Are you girlfriend and boyfriend??” She spit out the words “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” like venom.

“No!!” Max blushed, “Like, I don’t think so…”

“You…suck, Max,” Hot tears began to form in her eyes, “Gina sucks. You can suck each other. Enjoy sucking together. I hope you get married and it sucks, just as much as you two suck!”

“Jonesy…” Max didn’t know what to say to make any of it better.

She began to walk away, but found the only weapon in her arsenal that could truly hurt Max the way he had hurt her. She turned around and roughly wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her fists.

“Jamie fuckin’ Reynolds invited me to a party!”

Max felt like he just got hit by a Mack truck, “Fwhat?! EXsqueeze me??”

“SHYEAH!” Jamie jabbed a finger at Max’s face.

“And you’re just telling me this now??”

“I wasn’t going to go,” She kinda lied, “Because it’s opening day! But now??”

“When did this even happen? Where was I??”

Jonesy’s rage was white hot. She made her voice calm and contemplative, “Oh, gee. Let me think about that…you know, I think it might have happened…when you were in an AaLLeYyY…FUCKING my SISTER!!!” She shouted at the top of her lungs in Max’s face.

Every person standing on the line outside of the Dreamland Theatre turned to gawk at the two of them.

“What the FUCK are you looking at??” Jonesy roared at the crowd.

Everyone turned away, suddenly finding all kinds of interesting things to look at and talk about.

“Jonesy, I’m sorry, dude.” Max tried one last time.

“No.” She cut him off, “I’m going. I’m gonna go see Jamie Reynolds. And it’s going to be the best night of my life. Not this dumb ass movie.”

Max was wounded, he stumbled backwards, his head spinning. She began to walk away, but suddenly stopped and turned to face him one last time.

“You know what else?” She lined up the shot, “You weren’t invited. Just me. Without you.”

Critical hit. Max clutched his chest and fell to his knees. Louie caught him and fanned him frantically with his hat.

“I’m gonna pick out a cute outfit without any of your input!” Jonesy called out as she left the two boys behind her.

“NnnooooOOOOOOO!” Max reached out a hand after her in desperate despair.

#opening day #story #oc #original story #ao3 #writing #original characters #ao3 writer #wattpad #clerks #90s #nostalgia #videocore

1 note · View note

lindsaywesker · 1 year

Text

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Happy Hump Day!

It’s amazing how many people mention the blue towelling robe to me. Just to clarify, a) I have more than one and b) the robes all get washed regularly. My clothes get washed properly and I get washed properly too. I use what is known as an African exfoliating net which washes off dry and promotes smoother skin. Now you know why I look so young! I have an intense fear of smelling bad. I probably over-compensate by putting on too much after-shave. So, fear not, the blue towelling robe is always as fragrant as me. In fact, I have another one on order at John Lewis, Brent Cross but they are out of stock, and have been for a while! Looks like everyone is reading my status?

Last night, we enjoyed a delicious dinner with some beautiful people. We shared laughs and swapped good, grown-up stories about events and weddings and holidays and kids. Trying to maintain the balance of the diary is very important. There are a few elements that are disproportionately low at the moment, so I need to address that. We definitely need to do more theatre and more live music. All work and no play makes Lindsay a dull boy, so I like to keep the diary peppered with tasty morsels. In fact, on Sunday night, our diary is so full, The Trouble and I are going in different directions to different functions.

Today, I shall teach for five hours, which is always enjoyable and exhausting. We are loving this short week, innit? With another one to follow! Don’t really care about the coronation, just another waste of my tax dollar but thanks for the bank holiday, Charlie! And you want me to pledge allegiance to the king? Erm … sorry … what century are we in? I’ll only be impressed by The King if he takes a bottle of Pledge and clears the corruption out of government!

Poor Ed Sheeran is in court again dealing with another copyright infringement case. Where there’s a hit, there’s a writ! I don’t know why these people don’t take ME to court, I borrow from other people’s music all the time. Oh, that’s right, no point taking me to court because I’ve got no money! Let’s leech off the rich guy, he can spare it! These parasites get on my nerves! To these ears, EVERY song in the UK Top 40 sounds like something recorded in the sixties or seventies. Every songwriter is influenced by other songs; doesn’t mean they copied them! Ed Townsend’s people are trying to say Ed Sheeran copied the chord progression of ‘Let’s Get It On’. I see. So, a songwriter can now own a chord progression? If that’s the case, Sam Cooke and Ray Charles probably own most of the soul music genre!

Have a wonderful and well-endowed Wednesday. I love you all. Yes, a crazy, bald man loves and cares about you.

#mixcloud #mi soul #dj #music #new blog #lockdown #coronavirus #books #weekend #democracy #brexit #cronyism #election #radio

0 notes

beatdisc · 1 year

Text

Record Store Day Black Friday 25/11

This Friday, 25th November

Confirmed list of titles for the RSD Black Friday is here! On sale in person from 10am Friday, November 25th in the store and phone sales in the afternoon. RSD BLACK FRIDAY TITLES available from 10am Ace Frehley - Origins Vol. 2 1LP PD America - Live at Goodbye Summer Festival 1LP Augustus Pablo - Thriller 1LP Black Label Society - Skullage 2LP Brotha Lynch Hung - Season Of Da Siccness 2LP Captain Beefheart & the Magic Band - Clear Spot (50th Anniversary) 2LP Chief Keef - 4NEM 1LP Cure, The - Wish (30th Anniversary Edition) 2LP David Bowie - The Next Day Extra EP 12" Doors, The - Paris Blues 1LP Engine Kid - Angel Wings 2LP Flying Burrito Brothers, The - Live From The Bottom Line NYC 1976 1LP Fountains Of Wayne - Traffic and Weather 1LP Gary Saracho - En Medio 1LP Gladys Knight and the Pips / Gladys Knight and the Pips 1LP Golden Earring / Live - The Outtakes 10" Green Jelly - Musick To Insult Your Intelligence By 1LP Gun Club, The Live at The Hacienda '84 1LP Heartbreakers, The - The L.A.M.F. demo sessions 1LP Iggy Pop - Apres 1LP Imperials, The - Fast Freddie The Roller Disco King / I Just Wanna Be Your Lovin’ Man 12" Jim Ward - Half A World Away 1LP Jimi Hendrix - Burning Desire 2LP Kittie - Oracle 1LP Larry Coryell - Coryell 1LP Madlib - Medicine Show No. 11: Low Budget High-Fi Music 1LP Madonna - Everybody (40th Anniversary) 12" Marshall Crenshaw - Marshall Crenshaw (40th Anniversary) 2LP Masked Intruder - Masked Intruder (10th Anniversary) 1LP Nashville Pussy - Say Something Nasty 1LP Nico - Live At The Library Theatre '83 1LP OST (John Williams) - The Cowboys [50th Anniversary] 2LP Overwhelming Colorfast - Overwhelming Colorfast 1LP Papa Roach - Ego Trip 1LP Paquito D'Rivera & Arturo Sandoval - Reunion 1LP Pete Rock - Return Of The SP-1200 V.2 1LP Question Mark & The Mysterians - Cavestomp! Presents: Are You for Real? 1LP Red Hot Chili Peppers - Return of the Dream Canteen 2LP Ringo Starr - Old Wave 1LP Ringo Starr - Ringo The 4th (Translucent Orange) 1LP Shabaka - Afrikan Culture 1LP Silverchair - Live At The Cabaret Metro 1LP Slaughterhouse - Slaughterhouse 2LP Smash Mouth - Fush Yu Mang 1LP Snoop Dogg - Coolaid 2LP Soul Coughing - Lust In Phaze 2LP Townes Van Zandt - At My Window (35th Anniversary Edition) 1LP Trailer Bride - Trailer Bride (25th Anniversary Edition) 1LP Ultravox - Rage In Eden [Steven Wilson Stereo Mix] 2LP Weeknd, The - Dawn FM 2LP Within Temptation - Restless 12" Young Dolph - Rich Slave 2LP FREIGHT DELAYED TITLES (available to pre-order in-store) Tony Bennett & Lady Gaga - Cheek To Cheek: Live! 2LP Appleseed Cast, The - Sagarmatha 2LP Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever 2LP Rockabye Baby! - Lullaby Renditions of Blink-182 1LP Vitamin String Quartet - VSQ Performs Coldplay's Viva la Vida... 1LP

Please share your purchases with us on Instagram @beatdisc #BeatdiscRSD

0 notes

tonkipages · 2 years

Text

Sausage fest showtimes

#Sausage fest showtimes movie#

#Sausage fest showtimes full#

#Sausage fest showtimes plus#

Saturday: Ziliak and the Lilac Band, Starlite Lounge, Lani Williams, Half the Neighborhood, Streakerįor more information, call 31 or visit the SausageFest Facebook page. What is the music lineup?įriday: Fabulous Sausagekings, Doghouse Grove, Supercosmic, Sidewalk Souls, Meat Monster. An aging Chinese immigrant is just trying to finish her taxes. Rating: R Release Year: 2022 Starring: James Hong, Jamie Lee Curtis, Jonathan Ke Quan, Michelle Yeoh, Stephanie Hsu Country: United States Language: English, Mandarin, Cantonese New year, new universe. There also will be a separate chaperoned party lot for teens with a DJ. Director: Daniel Kwan, Daniel Scheinert Run Time: 139 min. The festivities include bouncy houses, a dunk tank, games and face painting. Get on that crowded dance floor and shake your groove thing baby. We’ll resume service as soon as possible check back soon to keep enjoying Microsoft Rewards. If you think Valentine’s Day is a bit of a sausage fest, enjoy DJ Alicious spinning all your favorite girl friendly and queer dance hints.

#Sausage fest showtimes full#

Stay tuned for more details regarding the full 2022 schedule of. Reward Page description Something unexpected went wrong on our end. The 21 and older crowd can choose to enjoy ice-cold beverages from Sun King Brewery or a selection of vino in separate beer or wine gardens. The only cost is the price of daily admission and tickets will not be sold in advance or online. Looking for something other than sausage? All good, the event will have sides dishes from Illinois Street Food Emporium, pizza from Byrnes, and snacks and sweets in the Snack Shack. You can end the weekend on a high note by running, walking, or crawling 164' feet in the. Following the successful return of March’s beer festival after two dormant years, The Driftwood Spars has announced dates for its next foray into food and drink festivities on the Cornish coast.

#Sausage fest showtimes plus#

Games for kids with our partners at the Cincinnati Recreation Commission start at 11A, along with a petting zoo with you guessed it, goats! Live music in the afternoon along with more chances for a walking tour of Cincinnati brewing history, plus the BockFeast pig roast continues. You're not done yet, as we start Sunday a little slower and a lot more family friendly! Goat Yoga starts the day at 10A, followed by the cutest Little Links pageant for the kids. Make sure to stop by our participating venues, both in Over-the-Rhine/Downtown and around Cincinnati. Take a break Saturday night with great music, then watch our newest Sausage Queen be crowned. Hop next door to Rookwood Pottery for our Bockfest Heritage Series with breweriana and speakers or take a 1 hour walking tour of one of Cincinnati's most historic breweries and its underground lager cellars. The Bock Beer Experience kicks off at 12P where you can sample over 30 bock beers! You'll need a full belly to make sure the goat doesn't kick too hard, and the BockFeast Pig Roast will fill you up. Shake off those cobwebs on Saturday morning and cheer on the Bockfest 5K runners at 10A. Homemade roasted garlic sausage with peppers and onions, wood fired garlic pizzas, garlic roast pork.

#Sausage fest showtimes movie#

Grab a bock beer and some food and Rock out with The Klaberheads before heading out to our participating venues in Over-the-Rhine/Downtown and around Cincinnati with their own specials. Beavercreek Movie Times Regal Fairfield Commons Cinemark - The Greene + IMAX Dayton Movie Times Dixie Drive-In Movie Theater Air Force Museum - IMAX Neon Movies Melody 49 Drive-In Huber Heights Movie Times Cinemark Huber Heights Miamisburg Movie Times Cinepolis at Austin Landing Plaza Theatre Piqua Movie Times Cinemark Miami Valley Cinema. When youre hungry, venture over to our food court. Follow the Parade up to our NEW Bockfest Hall at Findlay Playground to hear Jake Speed sing "The Bock Beer Song", bow your head with Brother Tim as he blesses this year's bock beer, and cheer as the Parade winners are announced. Hop on the streetcar to Arnold's and Main Street to watch the Parade step off at 6P. Cincinnati's own Queen City Sausage arranged the celebration of all things meat in tubular casing. Start your Bockfest weekend at the Moerlein Lager House with the winners of this year's Schoenling Bock Home Brew Competition at 4P. Let's get this out of the way now it’s a literal sausage-fest for lack of a better term.

#Sausage fest showtimes

0 notes