And then I watch somebody who is truly bad.
And my faith is restored.
Like last night. I went to Mines to see my bro in a play, which, by the way, he was fantastic in.
But that cannot be said for all of them.
Like the girl with the poofy ponytail.
Umm, hello? It's the 1940's. Or something like that. Maybe 1930's. Or 50's. Whatever.
Point being, NO PONYTAIL. Especially not for you. Because your hair is ugly.
But I'm being petty. It wasn't just her appearance that was painful to the senses. Allow me to ellucidate.
She sucked.
I mean, awful. Bad, bad, bad. Poo.
For one thing, she was always smiling. So as soon as she came on stage, you saw her weird little smile lurking on her face, like it knew it wasn't really supposed to be there but it didn't have anywhere better to go.
Sometimes, though, her smile disappeared.
It was replaced by her butt.
Here's how a typical scene would go: She would come onstage crying about the dead body or whatever (I mean come on, everybody else can hold it together, you silly maid), and while she was making these awful noises, the awkward little smile on her face would twist the noises until they sounded like she was crying into a vuvuzela.
A soon as she got the front of the stage, she would turn to face the actors. Meaning turning away from us.
So not only did we get to listen to the pathetic noises coming out of her inappropriately expressive mouth, we got to look at her backside as well.
Talk about best of both worlds, right?
Oh wait, wrong expression. I meant worst.
Thank god I'm not that bad.
Oh, I forgot to mention...
She lisped.
