would someone please explain this to me. received today.

Hi Dear,

how are you today I hope that everything is ok with
you as it is my great pleasure to contact you in
having communication with you starting from today,
please i wish you will have the desire with me so that
we can get to know each other better and see what
happens in future.

I will be very happy if you can write me through my
email for easy communication so that we can know each
other, I will give you my pictures and details about
me upon hearing from you. waiting for your response as
i wish you all the best.

You can add me so that we can chart on yahoo messanger


your new friend

Miss Jessica Thomson

(no subject)

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting


All right. I see and make alot of theater. Tonight in New York City, I saw one of the best plays/productions I have ever seen. THE BLUE DOOR at Playwrights Horizons (42nd street between 9th and 10th avenues.)

It was stunning in its simplicity, its power, and in its ability to totally involve. For my money, it was everything good theater should be. It made me hate THE AMBIVALENT CHAPERONE even more, if that's possible. It was pitch perfect, provacative and I plan on digesting it over a long period to come.

If you are in the NYC area (productions also scheduled this year at ACT in San Francisco, Seattle Rep (Marie!), and hopefully at Manbites Dog) don't miss this show.

(Nayland, if I can talk you into seeing it- I'll buy your ticket. I'll even go with you to see it.)

It's hard to describe. It lasts 90 minutes. Two remarkable performances, playing dozens of characters. It's about the way we choose to relate to our heritage and how we choose to use our heritage to understand our lives. It's about fathers and sons and brothers. It's about the often hollow sound of academic intellectuals. It's about the blue door. And I'm still not sure what that's about. But I haven't stopped wondering since i left the theater. It's about the horror of opression and how and IF we learn from the past. It's about the courage to change and the courage to see what's right before our eyes. There are no chandeliers or helicopters, just two chairs, two tables and a hat. But it's unlike any two person show I've ever seen. I laughed and I wept. It was way better than CATS.

I'm addicted to theater that alters the way I look at life and challenges my complacency. And I haven't had a fix like this in a long time. I'm always hesitant about recommending anything. Everyone has thier own tastes and I wonder, who am I to say what I like, you will like. But this one. I throw down the gauntlet and encourage you to wage the battle. Oh yeah. And when it's all over and done with it is supremely ENTERTAINING. Who says entertainment can't reach, teach, and inspire.

hammerride

In memory of Johnny

This is a story my friend Johnny told me.

When I was four, a friend of my father would take me on hammer rides. He was an enormous man with a full beard and a bushy walrus mustache. He worked for the fire department and I remember thinking how brave he was. He was strong and had a beautiful face that would light up when he smiled. It was as if he was lit from inside by some unseen bulb. He became my secret hero. He would drink beers and smoke cigars with my father. One Saturday the two of them worked on putting up a basketball hoop in our driveway.The tools were out and he picked up a hammer and called to me. As I got closer to him I remember wondering if my muscles would ever be as big as his. He lowered the hammer and told me to hang on to the head and the claw. While he held the handle and I held on for dear life, he lifted me up past his crotch and generous belly and broad shoulders until my face was even with the full bright moon of his furry face and twinkling eyes. His head was surrounded by the clouds of cigar smoke and he smelled of the beers he had been drinking with my dad. I remember being filled like a balloon with his energy. Filled and bursting as his bushy beard brushed my cheeks. And then he lowered me again to the ground until i stood before him on my own two feet. My knees were weak and he laughed and covered my head with his huge calloused hands that smelled of tobacco as he tossed my hair.