I called it, I called it, I called it.

Hey, remember when I said I'd eventually find out that Stephen and Hugh went out boozing with Greg Proops and I'd be all sad that I didn't find out sooner?

This is my sad face.

Dude. One of the highlights of Greg's career is spending all day in a dressing room listening to Stephen Fry. AHAHAHAHAHA!

It all comes back to Whose Line, you see. Every single thing comes back to Whose Line.

From the Tenacious D Messageboard, someone provides a review of Greg Proops at Largo.

( 'What I realized last night is that Greg is delusional.'Collapse )

It was mean, but I laughed in some places.

So I go back to Faneuil Hall for the other two shows. Because the way I see it, this is the first time I haven't had to get on a plane or a Greyhound or an Amtrak to see a Proops show, so I'm getting my money's worth, Goddamnit. I regret wearing my big clunky shoes, because while they make me very very tall, they also cut into my feet and give me blisters and hurt. I also regret wearing my short purple skirt, because while I have got very nice calves which I enjoy showing off, I am also still fish-belly white from the winter and I don't like having to remember not to cross my legs so someone doesn't get an eyeful of the money shot, if you know what I'm sayin'. And now that I have finally reached the end of that sentence, ( the show.Collapse )

I just want to hug him and squeeze him and call him George!

A hot clear day. Got off work and headed to Faneuil Hall immediately, where everything was quite pleasant once the temperature broke and I stopped feeling as if I was going to collapse from heat exhaustion. Sweated quite a bit though. Most unladylike. The trouble about Faneuil Hall is that it is a haven for solicitors who want you to give them money to save the whales/homeless/American Indians/people who haven't seen The Matrix: Reloaded yet/etc. I bought some M&Ms from one kid who was trying to raise money for camp or something because I thought he was cute in an urchiny way. Tried to gussy up for the show in the ladies room, which was a laborious transformation because I kept freaking out about all the germs that must have been living on the floor and had to go through all sorts of calistenics to prevent my bare feet from touching the floor while I tried to put my stockings on. Wandered around until eight.
( Then the show.Collapse )

My room is stultifyingly hot, still. And I have Landslide stuck in my head. I blame Proops.

Poor Greg. All these insane women plaguing him.

Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, Sparky.

Aw, shut up.

Even though the grumpy sod refuses to admit how cute they are. I suspect because it makes him uncomfortable.

So I call Caroline's.

Me: I'd like a reservation for July 20, 21, and 22. Eight and ten thirty on the 20th and 21th, and eight on the 22nd.

Lady on phone: (long pause) You really like him, don't you?

Me: (long pause) He's nice.

Gaaah.

I know, since when do I talk about anyone else? Besides little old me, of course.

Poor Greg on Late Friday. He looked to be in intense pain. Too cool for the room, Greg.

I think I'll see improv tonight.

Various things that made me smile:

Guy on street: Can I pay you a compliment? I think you're kind of cute.

Dean: You know there's a Whose Line Marathon on this week?

Greg's hugginess on the 100th ep of DL last Thursday.

Roger, lying on the sidewalk: YOU WERE IN MY CREATIVE WRITING CLASS! YOU WERE REALLY GOOD! WHOOOOOOOOO!

Ha ha ha.

I bought my Gregalious suit for Drag Ball today. I think the white shirt I was going to wear won't work with it, so I'm going to go look for a black one. I also got some sunglasses that might work with it. I wish we had better selection of non-perscription glasses here.