Promises, promises

Oh dear lord. Here it is Tuesday already, which means I'm a day behind on my entirely arbitrarily self-assigned blogging schedule. Egads!

The good news is that tomorrow I'll have a long story to tell you. It's about urine. You'll love it.

For now you'll have to content yourself with the knowledge that I saw the Blog Bully on Friday, which is always a delight, and we saw a really brilliant play, which, when it happens, is also always a delight. You know what else was delightful? The post-show gin I drank. On the whole, Friday really exceeded my expectations, which was fortunate since Pee Saturday wasn't that great.

Do you live around these parts? Are you amenable to Scots swearing a great deal? If so, you really ought to get yourself down to see Black Watch while it's playing at the Armory. It is theatre that takes full advantage of its own genre in a way that is very satisfying. By this I mean that the best plays could only be plays--not novels, not movies. They make full use of a theatrical vocabulary that requires a sort of collaboration between the audience and the performers to give it life. I realize that this sounds disgustingly pretentious while also being almost entirely unclear, which is not an ideal combination for any sentence, but it's the best I can do at the moment.
Short version: it's a great play. Go see it.

Now I'm off to the Roxie for a Noir double feature. Because, hey, I like movies too.