big whoop! who gives a bibble? gabba gabba hey.

Crikey. (what does that even mean?)

'Sup? Not much on my end. Sorry this is coming so late - I had precisely 0.0 time to blog today at work, as I've been held up in a barren room that is completely barren except for the fact that it has gigantic roll upon gigantic roll of blueprint drawings that I'm to be cataloguing right now and yeah... it sucks... but whatever.

Salt in that wound is that Shaw festival auditions continue down the hall from where I work, and I guess today they were seeing every quirky soprano the city had to offer. Gah it drives me nuts. Three things, as a rule, that these chicks have in common:

1.) They all wear character shoes. Yep. Like right off the street. And they ain't dancin' today. For those of you who don't know what 'character shoes' are, I'll enlighten... they're the traditional footwear for female performers in musical theatre - unless you'ze a ballerina or a Pussycat Doll, you're most likely wearing character shoes - a sturdy 3-inch closed-toe heel that looks like something you could picture a stenographer, or mayhaps mimeographer, named Geraldine in the 1950's wearing. Yeah. Anyway - these bitches wear them right in off the street.

2.) If I pass one of them in the hall or in the elevator, they're all so forceably outgoing and dole out these really contrived pleasantries because they think I'm working the auditions or something. GAH! Drives me nuts!

3.) They all do the gayest vocal warmups in the hall like it's not annoying. Yeah. They walk around doing scales while puckering their lips (like making a fart noise, only prolongued and to a melody) and I'm like "I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE NOT WARMED UP!!! YOU LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE!!!".

Said it before, gonna say it again - GAH!

Anyway - this past weekend. Hum dinger, let me tell ya.

I didn't think that I was going to go out this weekend at all seeing as I was so rife with disease, but thankfully I have horrible friends who only live for today and care about their own enjoyment far more than my physical well-being. Jesting. They'z good people. But yes - me not going out on Saturday would not be tolerated.

So I did. Buddies, natch. Where something called ArtHouse is currently going on. Because of this, there was a box on stage. A BOX. Yeah. Well, a frame of sorts. And it was just left on there, inviting catastrophe if y'ask me.

People started to filter on in - the most notable burst being a gaggle of students who couldna been more than 19. It was clearly some floor's night out at some Ryerson residence, which was just fantastic. It made me feel old. Estelle Getty-stylez old. No matter.

Along for the ride this particular evening was the increasingly entertaining Heidi Brander - who's just so much fun I can't handle it. Here she is. Pictured. To the left, to the left.

Apparently so taken with this box, Heidi attempted to run up the side of it a-la Jackie Chan/Super Mario/this dude in the video for Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up" (at precisely 2:47):

Does anyone else feel the almost-uncontrollable need to do a shot-by-shot reenactment of that video sometime in the VERY near future? Because sister, let me tell ya, I do. Wow.

Anyway... dancing inside the box has become a reasonably popular destination by mini-gays all over the place, and shinanigoats are ensuing... people are rocking the box, hitting the box, boxing the box, and bouncers are taking the stage each and every time.

Not to be outdone, Heidi attempts to do run up the side of the box for reasons known only to her. This didn't bode well with the bouncers, but really, what the fuck were they expecting? THERE WAS A BOX ON THE STAGE AND EXUBERANT YOUTH RIGHT, LEFT & CENTRE!!! Meh... anyway, in lieu of the angry bouncer, Heidi fleetly flee'd the scene like - as Yerxa brilliantly put it - Delores Van Cartier in "Sister Act" to the bathroom. That's where the bouncer's found her, conducting a chorus of misbegoten gay youth "I Will Follow Him". The similiarities betwixt Heidi and Whoopi abound. Sheesh.

Yeah... I know that's the second one of my friends that I've photoshopped into Whoopi Goldberg's habit, Dana quite gloriously being the first. But I'm going to tell ya right now... it really beat the first idea I had to photoshop Heidi as a black chick which, I will include simply because I don't believe in letting my efforts go to waste.

Art? Or simply a modernized take on black-face? YOU decide!

I promise more interesting fare tomorrow...

--- Aj