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HOME


Sunday, November 29, 2009


And The Scary Man Who's Driving

Now that Thanksgiving is solidly behind us, most normal people can now contemplate getting in the mood for the next major holiday on the calendar.

And for many of us here in the Upper Left-Hand, particularly those with some sort of theatrical predilection, that means at some point attending a performance of The Dina Martina Christmas Show.

I've waxed - well, poetic doesn't seem like quite the right description - let's just say, I've mentioned Dina in the past, so long-time readers (all six of you) already know the score. But for the uninitiated, think of the most horrible, awesome, hilarious train-wreck combination of late vintage Judy Garland, Tammy Fae Baker, and Joan Rivers, with a generous dollop of Courtney Love, a bad drag show and the scariest clown you've ever seen, and you only begin to develop an approximate image of the sheer want-to-close-your-eyes-but-don't-want-to-miss-the-fiery-collision that is Dina.

Aside from the rampant malapropisms (Christmas gifts, when expressed by Ms. Martina become "Chreeshmesh Jifts" for example), wardrobe malfunctions of apocalyptic proportion, and inappropriate holiday song melodies that only your butcher could love, Dina's shows always include a little holiday hand-out. I've been going to these shows for about six or seven years now, and generally expect she'll single out some relatively nondescript person in the audience upon which to shower her largess. Today however, perhaps owing to the large contingent of local theatre folk in attendance, when she asked if anyone wanted some "jifts" and my hand went up, she picked me. It might also have had something to do with the fact I was sitting in the second row on an aisle, which meant I could get to the stage pretty quickly - whatever.

Below, you see some of my swag, which consisted of (from Left to Right): A package of Gummy Maggots, a package of Sour Cream & Onion flavored Crickets (they were crunchy, but not very flavorful), and the "pasty resistance", a coveted (no kidding) container of Cheetos Cheese Flavored Lip Balm (not shown: a five-pak of "Saved By The Bell - The College Years" bubblegum trading cards).



And that big, bloody looking smear on my forehead would be the remains of a wet one planted on my noggin by Ms. Martina herself - I'll probably need a Scotch-brite pad to scrub it off.

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Posted byCOMTE on 3:19 PM


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