What is the fastest way to get a group of mature closer-to-thirty-than-teen girls, who are respected, hot, confident achievers, giggling like they just turned twelve?
Place them at a ballet of Russian men in toight white tights.
I couldn’t stop thinking of that scene from Top Secret, when they attend the ballet, and, well, the ballerina swans weren’t dancing on the planked stage.
As soon as the lights went on during our intermission:
-Oooo, I was loving that matador’s butt! Bravo!
-Jesus, but that man’s codpiece!
-Hey? You mean he was wearing something? Thank god. I think.
-Why is he wearing a codpiece? -Yes, it’s not like this is a contact sport.
-Are you sure about that?
My giggling fit personally set in when a male and female ballet dancer were doing a serious piece, which was meant to suggest two lovers struggling to leave each other and their bed.
My friend to my left was giggling herself into tears over the guy’s stretched-so-tight-we-think-the-tights-were-red-but-looked-more-pink, and the girl on my right giggled at the KIAAATCH décor of silver twinkling curtains.
The ballerinas fought over the bed sheet in choreographed moves, embraced, fled, came back to each other. Leap bound twirl. A bit too over sentimental.
And I could not stop thinking, the next time I have a nap-over THAT is what I am going to do! Nothing like leaving the house on a dance-off the morning after the night before!
Maybe you had to be there, but I am back to giggling. Think it might be the quickest way to ensure the guy never phones me back - a bit of pirouetting and leaping about his room as I wake up and leave!
Ah yes. Years of private schooling and we still evade “culture” like the African plebs we are.
The dance of The Dying Swan was pretty incredible though.
12 comments:
Did you girls indulge in a bit of green smoke before the ballet??
Not that I was offered. Selfish bastards! But I had just been at yoga, doing postures that were detoxing my liver...maybe that just released stored alcohol back into my system.
THAT would also explain why I feel like I have a hangover today, even though I didn't drink anything last night!
Help, help I cannot see a link to Cosmo.
Helllp HEeeelp!
You coy thing you! You should blush so deeply red!
Tula!! No one knows!!
My office is moaning at me that I am taking my sweet time getting to the bar and getting a drink, so I really gotta run. Sometimes I have to love my company!
I thought that lump was for the ballerina to use as a step up
Yes. Sigh. or even Le Sigh, but this is going to be a very Anton comment.
Here goes, hold on to your patience (better than the nurses on strike are doing - this is, of course, a phonetical joke):
I have been toying with the idea of a theatre production for awhile now. Some good luck has come my way in this regard; my cousin's wife (newly weds) is very much a creative, and is trained in the theatrical arts, plus she is very intellectual (she gave me an honest but awesome critique of my "blog").
So I want to see if I can get the following idea made:
(Warning to anyone who steals others' ideas, and uses them as if they were their own, I have no idea if this would actually work or not, as a play or movie, but my parents are not creative, they are in fact very much lawyer-like. And my dad likes sueing people. This is not a threat. I am just being conversational.)
Basically it has a sort of Sci-Fi premise, which follows the central character, a Demon-Hunter Eighth Level (as he mentions to a character, before he came along, there were, in fact, only seven.)
He's fighting for a better world, and does this by hunting demons across various interesting dimensions, with his team (who all die in the first Act). He ends up having a mishap (he uses the Genocidal Device in the Demon World he is currently in, and mistimes his "leap" [transportation from one dimension to another, or something.] which causes major problems...).
He ends up far in the future, where the better world he was, in part, responsible for is now in existence.
It's now Act 2.
He's in what appears to be the ideal suburb. White Picket fences. Everyone is neighbourly. When they meet him, (and he is very confused by all this niceness) they realise what he is, and how he is part of the foundation of their community. In a sense that the Demon Hunters made their current world possible.
So...
They attempt to integrate him as one of their own. His Dimentional Transportational Device (tm) is off-line, and so he is now
(drum roll)
Trapped in Suburbia
Anyone who guessed this is the title of the play production - off the fly - get 10 000 points.
But in Act 3 and 4, things get really interesting...
He grapples with, and eventually is depressed by his new life in a world he was responsible for. So he starts subtley causing some major shite with people. This is takes place in the last half of Act 3, and in Act 4, tensions start getting really ugly.
Act 4's second half features Suburbia turning into a barricaded defensive zone, and ends when the first person (since Act 1) gets killed.
Act 5 opens and it's war (somehow, which is why I need my cousin-in-law's help - but I have ideas, some involving relatively cheap but useful image tools) and after three acts, our (anti)hero is finally free from his angst, and joins in the battle on the side of (relative) good.
During the final battle, he is injured, but Suburbia is saved.
The "good" guys ask for his help in rebuilding their world, but his dimentional device, knocked during the final fight, is now working (conventiently - but actually there is a philosophical context to this I'm not going into here) and he declines, stating he needs to journey back into the past to ensure his fight against Evil endures, allowing for their world to exist at all.
And the strings pull him off stage as the surviving towns people stare in bewilderment, amongst the smoking (machines can do this) ruins of their Suburbua. If only copyright weren't an issue, I'd have our (anti)hero lift off to the sound of Aphrodiate's Drum n' Bass remix of the classic Superman theme.
Le Sigh.
The best male ballet performance I remember seeing was when the dude came out in toight-toights with a MASSIVE um, thingie, in front. Dance dance dance... but we all knew that no one was paying attention to the routine because everyone was kind of distracted...
Right at the end, the ballerina stopped, reached into his tights and pulled out one end of a scarf that just kept unfolding... like a magician's trick.
Another "guess you had to be there" moment, but I enjoyed it.
Anon - so you've seen Top Secret too!!
Anton - I think I'll have to get back to you about your comment after my coffee this morning! Need time.
Koeks - I'm giggling anyway!! He he he. I think we have to get to the ballet more often!
dammit! I loove the ballet
so many strapping masculine thighs to swoon to!
HPF - Then I'll be sure to invite you along to the next one!
Hot Pink Flush,
Don't you have work to do?!
:)
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