I had a lot of fun at last night's Slog Happy of Shame, you guys. Thanks to everyone who came, and laughed, and applauded, and shared the humiliating writing of their youth.
We had fantastic readings by Abby, Original Monique, Debbie, Jessica, Lara, Joh, Enigma, Ingo Pixel, Will in Seattle, boxofbirds, and Scary Tyler Moore, and while everyone was all kinds of great, my personal favorite sentence of the evening went like this: "My beefaroni exploded in the microwave."
That's all I'll say. If you missed it, you missed it. You missed the letter to a potentially gay, possible virginity-taker; you missed short poems about snow; you missed the rant about a bitchy mother; you missed the viking funeral for a dead hornet that involved a Ritz cracker, fire, and super glue; you missed the story about a dragon and a frog; and you missed the screen play featuring an 8-year-old little sister as a stripper. There was more... so much more. But that's all I'll say.
Theatre Off Jackson was the perfect place to have it, I'd say—comfortable seats, small enough to not be overwhelming, good drinks, really delicious cookies. Paul Constant was a fantastic, charming host, and the audience was polite and laughed and heckled at all the appropriate moments. You guys are wonderful.
So thank you to all of you who helped make it great.
And now... let's talk about December's Slog Happy! What do you want to do? Karaoke at Twilight? A goofy gift-exchange at a pub? Drinks and snacks at someplace warm?
Your ideas, I want them.
Do I see a building consensus? I do believe I do!
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