Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Sashay this

Disturbing alcohol-induced dream in which I lead a football field of cheerleaders in a rendition of “Wash that man right outta my hair” from South Pacific. Don’t get me started. It was a nightmare.

And by nightmare I mean fantasy.

7 comments:

Ms Bees Knees said...

And I bet you were a stunning head cheerleader, you big girl, you!

Ed Grow said...

Why yes, yes I was. And as the day went on, I remembered more and more of my dream; including that I was wearing a large bandana, and that I was a flaming bitch. And made most of the girls cry because they were just uncooridinated donkeys. Seriously, some girls just shouldn't dance, you know?...and I think the cheerleaders were dressed like the 40's jackhammer lez. It was awful. Lord knows if I was in charge of the uniforms they would be wearing nothing but sequins...and maybe some glitter. And turn and shake and freeze.

Robyn said...

good go ya'll. that is all i have to say... well that and I loves me somes Ed Grow.

Larn said...

i also loves me some ed grow.

amanda said...

http://tinyurl.com/76otu

Ms Bees Knees said...

Amen brothers and sisters! We love us some Ed Grow! and FREEZE! and SPIN!

Ed Grow said...

Yeah, me as a choreographer, what a BAD idea. I would be like the flamer from 'Waiting for Guffman'. I would wear sweater vests and tell people things like, "Pretend you are a boat! Now a cheetah. Now a cheetah on a boat wearing legwarmers and and headband! Come on, people, we need to do better." Making others cry by haranging them about their interpretive dance moves is my sole pleasure in life. That and wildberry skittles.