My baby will kick your baby's ASS!

SCREECH!!

Dustin Diamond (Screech from Saved by the Bell) supposedly has a 40-minute sex tape in which he engages in a threesome with two women and performs a "Dirty Sanchez".

What is better than that? The working title for the sex tape is "Saved by the Smell."

Personally, I don't think I could see a fully naked Screech wiping a women's upper lip with her own poop. I would have to kill myself.

To each his own. I am sure this will be featured at the Kramer's house on bad porno night. They better supply everyone their own 750ml of Vodka, and a puke bucket.

T-Shirt Hell

Mike and I have spoken briefly about this web-site that my crazy brother frequents for his bartending nights, and visits to my Grandparents house. It is called T-Shirt Hell. The T-shirts are so horrifying, that I don't quite understand how people don't get killed walking down the street with some of them on. Please know, I do NOT condone alot of these so check them out at your own risk. Here are a few "tame" shirts that actually make me laugh.

Dream

Ok. So I wrote that post below RIGHT after I woke up. It was all so fresh in my head. Now reading it over, it is the weirdest f-ing dream I have ever had. BUT, just out of curiousity I looked up death and dying in a dream analyzer. This was the result:

Something is finally over.

Interesting! Well, if there is one thing in that dream that will always stick out in my mind, it is this...

Michele, I am..... Marc?

Death dreams.

I am not sure why, but in the past week I have had dreams about my own death. The first dream I was in a torture press, and could feel every bit of that damn thing crushing me. The second one was just last night. It was the strangest damn dream. It completely made sense in my head, and yet thinking about it now, it is so weird. Here we go... I am going to just type what I remember so forgive spelling and grammer boo-boo's. Ok, from what I can remember:

We all had numbers. Not sequentially, just numbers. We got these numbers from these people (women I think) who asked if you wanted to go, then gave you these numbers. There were beds (they looked like massage tables) and huge lights above them in the ceiling, that actually kept going off and on and confusing the women who were giving us the tickets. Some of our family were there. Some of them were crying, others were supportive and smiling. If your number was called, there was light applause. You laid on the table and the women touched your shoulders and spoke words. The women were dressed in these lord of the rings hooded capes. After this short ceremony around your bed, your body shriveled up like a small statue, they wrapped you in something white, and if your family requested you could be given to them as a remembrance. Otherwise, you were thrown in the garbage. At this point, I decide I am not ready for this. I don't want to be thrown in the trash. I tell my friends I am leaving. Then I see Norm. He is laying on the table joking about how he just smoked a huge bowl, and it is interfering with his "treatment". I walk outside to see if I can see anyone I know, and it looks like an amusement park, or festival. People seem to be completely unaware that inside this building, people were killing themselves. But it didn't feel scary. It felt completely normal. I was mad that people were being thrown out, but we all had the choice to go or not go. After seeing Norm being handed off to his Mother, along with other of his belongings (which I cannot remember what they were, but I think water glasses were some of them) I decided to go. All of my friends had gone. I would go to. The head woman handed me a transcript of Norm's passing. They record your experience and allow family to listen if they wish. It is not your suffering, it is them relaying what happened with a soft voice. She had said that Norm fought it. His eyes would open and close, he was smiling. Then he called out for Jesus, said something about Debbie and it was over. My number is called. I don't remember being scared, or the experience at all. I just remember afterwards the room still looked the same, it just looked fuzzy. I saw the woman again. She told me to find my friends. I would have to walk to the other side of the room and find the tunnel that would lead me to them. I found these strange display cases (no idea what was in them), and then found a grate. I opened it and I heard noises. It sounded like people having sex. I get into the main area and I am in some strange fun house. Above me are animatronics having sex, and just a lot of weird funky shit around me. I looked in every room for my friends. I felt like they were there, but every room scared me. There was a bathroom with a closed see through shower curtain and I could see people inside but I thought they might be fake. I knew someone was watching me. I wanted to run, so I went back into the room where I crawled through the grate. I hear Marc ask me why I was running. My friends started coming out of every room telling me they were star wars characters. I don't remember who anyone was except for Marc who was Darth Vader, and Brian Mysliwy was Obi-Wan. I defintitely know Norm, Jeff Coyle, Lou, Marc, Brian, Nicole and I were there. I told Norm about his tape I listened to, and Jeff and Norm cried. Nicole told us to stop talking about it.

Then, my eyes opened. I had to write all of it down because of how strange it was. Part of me wanted to cry. I had to touch Todd just to make sure I was awake. I didn't want to be in some weird Star Wars, Disney gone porn fun house. Well, especially not without him.

TMX Elmo!!

Our friends in East Aurora have come up with a GEM! This new Tickle Me Elmo will make you giggle. If the video link doesn't work, go here and you should see the video under "Hot Topics". Just priceless.

http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=2462444

Oh NO!

I am becoming addicted to this threadless tee website! All thanks to my good friend Katie. Here are a few of my current favorites!

Artvoice Review by Anthony Chase

A Man of No Importance reminds us what a powerful vehicle for expression American musicals can be, and as importantly, how the intimate stages of Buffalo’s independent professional theaters can sometimes ignite bursts of electrifying magic with plays that barely even glowed elsewhere. With a script by Terrence McNally, one of the most important American playwrights of our time; music by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens, the songwriting team that also created Once on this Island and Ragtime, A Man of No Importance attracted a great deal of interest when it opened off-Broadway in 2002. Though the original cast recording sounds thrilling, to be honest, the actual experience of seeing A Man of No Importance at Mitzi E. Newhouse Theater at Lincoln Center was surprisingly low-key, more cerebral than emotional, and often disappointing.

Adapted from a 1994 film of the same title, starring Albert Finney, A Man of No Importance transports us to Dublin in 1964, where we join the journey of a bus conductor named Alfie Byrne, who has a passion for the work of Oscar Wilde. Alfie is determined to produce Wilde’s controversial play, Salome, in the church Bingo hall. When the resident leading man is cast in a supporting role, he resentfully tells a powerful church committee that the play is obscene, resulting in Alfie and his amateur company being banned from the hall. Alfie’s disappointment and increasingly tense circumstances instigate his first tentative efforts to realize his homosexuality, with disastrous results.

This would seem like a lot of emotional weight to pack into a musical, and I haven’t even mentioned the pregnant but unmarried ingénue tapped to play Salome; the sister who is keeping company with Alfie’s theatrical nemesis; the bus driver with whom Alfie is infatuated who holds secrets of his own; and so on and so forth.

I have never been an admirer of the directorial work of Joe Mantello, surely one of the most overrated theater personalities in New York today. Every critique of his work seems to lament that his direction is not up to his usual standard. I am afraid that his usual standard is, in fact, quite lackluster, though occasionally his material ascends above his directorial talent. Despite a first-rate New York cast featuring Roger Rees as Alfie and Faith Prince as his sister, the original production reached isolated moments of true beauty, but not great emotional heights.

The current Irish Classical Theatre production does.

In contrast to Mantello, Brother Augustine Towey seems to benefit from his years of working in a university setting where magic must, so often, be conjured from thin air and fly on the talents of actors. His approach with A Man of No Importance is to treat each minor character like a lead, strip the setting to its minimum, keep the pace swift and allow the actors to delve headlong into the full angst and sentiment of the piece. Add to this the intimacy of the Andrews Theatre and the result is, at long last, A Man of No Importance that truly thrills.

The success of the production, of course, rests on the shoulders of the actor who plays Alfie, and Brian Riggs’ performance is a true star turn. Riggs captures the full nuance and complexity of the character with remarkable charm and authority. This is a man made of both vulnerability and flint. He is both loving and benignly manipulative. And oh yes, he sings splendidly. Audiences accustomed to seeing Riggs either in brooding dramas or in silly musicals should feel privileged to see him in a role that allows him to showcase the full range of his talent as a musical leading man to such sublime effect. He is superb.

Loraine O’Donnell and Michele Roberts as Alfie’s sister and his leading lady give similarly strong performances. O’Donnell plays Lily as a woman who seems like a rock, but who, when her brother’s secrets are revealed, is, herself, exposed as a frightened person who had been hiding behind him all along. Roberts, who possesses a beautifully pure voice, sings the role exquisitely with acting to match.

Many of the characters in the play are named after people in Oscar Wilde’s life. Alfie’s sister is named after Lily Langtry, Wilde’s friend and muse. Mrs. Patrick is named for his friend, Mrs. Patrick Campbell. Alfie’s abusive boss, Carson, is named after Edward Carson, the attorney who broke Wilde during cross-examination in his libel suit against Lord Alfred’s father. Robbie, the young bus driver, is named after Robbie Ross, Wilde’s first lover and best friend until death. In this production, even minor characters shine with the quirks and idiosyncrasies of vivid individuality. Tom Zindle gives a strong performance as Carney, the resentful amateur actor. Joseph Natale is hilarious as the clueless and inflexible Father Kenny. Chris Critelli is wonderfully appealing as the loyal bus driver, Robbie. Lisa Ludwig commands a singular and memorable appearance as mysterious Mrs. Campbell. Kerrykate Abel is a comic revelation as the amateur choreographer who envisions the Dance of the Seven Veils as a tap number, wryly suggesting her own performance in Buffalo United Artist’s comic Salome last season. Maggie Zindle, often hired for her glorious voice, gives an impressively well-measured and beautifully acted performance as egocentric Mrs. Grace, earning some of the evening’s heartiest laughs with some of its most understated jokes. Kelli Bocock-Natale tears up the stage with her numerous comic moments as earnest but untalented character actress and costume designer Miss Crowe. Diminutive but bounteously talented John Joy scores one of the production’s uncontestable highlights with his magnificent rendering of “The Cuddles Mary Gave,” a tribute to his late enormous wife.

Even pianist Nathan R. Matthews and violinist Mary Ramsey bring personality to their roles; if you doubt that a violin can act, listen for Ramsey’s contribution in the moment when Alfie is unable to confess his true dilemma to Father Kenny. Mr. Matthews’ musical direction delivers the score with great energy and brightness, especially in chorus numbers like “Going Up” and “Art,” and with haunting sentiment as in moments like “Love Who You Love.”
The production is handsomely and minimally designed by Eric Appleton, who creates an entire Dublin bus from a few chairs and the rest of the city with a few boards. Choreographer Stacy Zawadzki Janusz’s work is superior, as are Tessa Lew’s costumes.

It is a joy to see a true book musical, fully realized and beautifully performed, in which actors portray characters and probe the truths of humanity through narrative. The Irish Classical Theatre Company reveals A Man of No Importance to be a brilliantly crafted piece of theater with a powerful message and a radiantly expressive score. The production sets an exceedingly high standard for the theater season just beginning.

Star Wars Bloopers

Poor R2D2!

Tough night.

Last night was the memorial for our beloved Tim Ward. It was a really tough night. There were many tears, but so many shoulders to cry on. Some memorable highlights:

Zak wanting to get laid, and stating that his Dad would have wanted it that way.
Marc singing Wayfaring Stranger.
Lou and Murph singing Muddy Waters.
Katie singing Calling All Angels.
Brendan's memory of Tim.
Seeing and hugging Paschal.
Getting a necklace from Becca that Tim gave her.
Seeing my ex and being able to talk about our current relationships.
Seeing Vicki, Andrea, Kim and Cyndi-all 30 and FABULOUS!
Reconnecting with Lesley and Seth.
Tim's chair on display in the cafeteria.
Tim's shirts and socks hanging everywhere.
The quotes all over the walls from students.
The standing ovation for Tim after the memorial was over.
and
The mystery laugher, I will explain:

During the first speech, a man in the audience began to chuckle. Lou and I both jumped in our seats. That laugh! Somewhere in the audience was a man who laughed just like Tim. For those who didn't know Tim, he had a laugh which was a cross between The Count on Sesame Street and Jabba The Hutt. Lou and I looked at each other and laughed/cried. Marc snorted, it was beautiful.

There are some times when life brings people together in the worst possible way. However, while last night ranks as one of the hardest nights of my life, it was also one the best. Life is so precious. I refuse to waste one more second of it. As Tim would say, SWEET PEA, JUST FUCKING MAKE SOMETHING HAPPEN! You got it Old Man, you got it.

Michele needs...

Put "(your name) needs" with the quotations into a google search, and you get some funny shite. Here is the cream of the crop:

1. Michele needs to create names for her imaginary friends.
2. Michele needs an education on the anti-christ.
3. Michele needs to learn to be more careful with her Voodoo.
4. Michele needs to interrupt Jim.
5. Michele needs a foot rub.
6. Michele needs an hour of "time out".
7. Michele needs help with portion control.
8. Michele needs to reconsider her hurtful attitude in an age of diversity, enlightenment, and lengthening life spans.
9. Michele needs to get smacked.
10. Michele needs to hire a Goon.
11. Michele needs people to play with it too.
12. Michele needs to know what she can eat that would satisfy her craving for cookies.
13. Michele needs to work with a very upset and scared five year old Siamese cat.
14. Michele needs to stop with this shit.
15. Michele needs to rub Jeff's nose in the mess he made on the carpet.
16. Michele needs to hook up with with some french guest from the inn.
17. Michele needs to lay off the crack and eat a few double cheesburgers.
18. Michele needs a ridiculous amount of Star Trek in her life.
19. Michele needs 26 Bunnies.
20. Michele needs hard sex and has a total fun-loving cooch.

I love kitty cats!

September 3, 2006

For anyone who is a Niagara University alumnus, we lost a tremendous man yesterday. He was a friend, and mentor, and the closest thing to a Father for many of us while away from home. He will be missed dearly. RIP Tim Ward.

We will love you and keep you in our hearts forever.