come let it enter you

I just found out that tonight's band is called "The Broad Strokers"

Play #7 is just as, um, shocking as I was told.

Sun-drenched raspberries fresh from David Mills garden and melt-in-your-mouth cookies  from John Bradshaw are being savored on the tongues of a hungry, lusty crew.

Kegs are being brought in for the afterparty.

A wave of eros and chaos has entered the theater like a sirocco.

This is happening:

I think it's safe to say we're not in Sheboygan, Wisconsin anymore.

You really should be here tonight at 8:00 or 10:30 and let the energy fill you up with a great a WHOOSH !(how's that for a little onomatopoeia?)

 

Ahiers on the verge of a sugar OD, "Not my fault" says Bradshaw

Megan Ahiers has consumed an unhealthy amount of sugar claim numerous regional doctors with large salaries.

Exclaimed Dr. Sal Nettle, "With the amount of sugar she's had enter her body, she'll probably be pooping Peeps tomorrow morning."

"It's just not right," continued Nettle, "the human body can only take on so much sugar before it begins to sweat syrup."

So who is to blame. Many say John Bradshaw is the leading culprit after leaving dozens and dozens of delicious baked goods for everyone's enjoyment. Others would claim that Megan herself is to blame for not having the ability to say, "Only one."

Thank you to John Bradshaw for all of the sweet treats and keep an eye on Megan around 10:15 when she crashes on a couch and sleeps for 14 hours.

A moment with Alex Samuels

SLOOP - Hey, Alex! How did lunch go?

ALEX - Seemed to go fine. Jim Jewell's running the kitchen this week. No fires to put out... yet. John Bradshaw made us some awesome cookies like he always does.

SLOOP - What the hell is this about fires? This worries me... how would you handle a fire in this building?

ALEX - I'd probably go to the AL and tell them. Then I'd run like hell. Maybe warn some actors... grab the cookies.

SLOOP - This is the second time you've mentioned Mr. Bradshaw's cookies. Are they "special" cookies. Like "magically special".

ALEX - They are special cookies that make the day at 14/48 even more special... I refuse to go into any more detail. I have too much respect for John Bradshaw.

SLOOP - Thanks, Alex.

ALEX - Actually, if there was a fire it would all work out. This is 14/48 and all works out in the end.

SLOOP - OK... thanks, Alex.

ALEX - Basically my jobs for the day have been keeping people away from the food and going to pick up the pizza at 5pm. And smoking lots of cigarettes... I'm good at that job.

SLOOP - I said, 'Thanks.'

14/48 - The Unsung Heroes (or, The Cookieman Cometh)

Jim Jewell chops lettuce in a basement.

Deb Fialkow, over lunch, tells the story of her decision not to go to Walla Walla for her beau's birthday, and for, as she's now mentioned twice, "lake party."
She had been teaching in Leavenworth, and had all of John Bradshaw's Tupperware in her car. See, 'Martyr John' had been planning to go to Leavenworth also, for the aforementioned "lake party", but had come down with the flu. So, instead, he was going to stay in town. But not entirely to rest. He was going to bake for 14/48.
He is the white knight of baking for whatever theater group he shines his light on.
One of his treats this weekend: Crack Merengues (not his name)
Deb decided to stay home for many reasons. All selfless, all in the name of 14/48. She wanted to be here to see the plays, to deliver Bradshaw's crack merengues, to check in with the virgins and see how their first interaction with the great and terrible 14/48 monster, which can shake even the most hardened artists down to their bones. She couldn't bring herself to go on winery tours and have birthday celebrations and LAKE PARTIES. 14/48 needed her.



Jim Jewell and Linda Lombardi!
Thanks for nourishing our bodies so that we can have the energy to nourish our creative spirits!

These guys toil in a makeshift kitchen to feed hundreds of mouths over the weekend, three times a day, and it is a non-stop 48 hours of straight-up, no glory, food prep. Army style, but with better food I think.

Deb Fialkow just brought me a beer. Gotta Go.