I saw the FULL MONTY!!!

No I didn’t. We went to see the show in the Westchester Broadway last night. It is ok for a provincial theatre, but I am not so sure it is worth the ticket price. the food is ok, but very limited and they make you pay through the teeth for anything extra. (except the wine, the wine is good)
Besides, the waiters are always skulking and trying not to see the patrons, in case they get asked for extra bread rolls or coffee refills.
The show in itself was ok, and the set chosen well even if a bit minimalistic. The actors were nice, but looked a bit tired and ready to go home after the first act. I did like the Fat Guy and the Stripper though.
At the end, they do take everything off, but we do not see anything because of the blinding low lights. Seeing buttcheeks was good, although there is nothing worse than untanned guy butts under harsh neon lights. For those questioning my right to complain, please keep in mind that nobody paid $70 to see my tush, and that there is a reason I hate thongs.
I was hoping that somebody from Buffalo saw the show, because it did for the small town what BORAT did for Khasakistan (how is this spelled again?). They could have created an imaginary loser town and left it at that, without taking a real loser town and adding pervert to the list of its faults.
When I saw the movie, it was ok, because I never even remembered the name of the savage little town where it takes place, but Buffalo is too close to home (i think, because I got no idea how close) And everybody knows how perverted those English are! Just read Victorian Erotica.
Anyway, if you want to hear my advise, you either rent the movie and dine on gourmet popcorn, or go to Broadway and bring your dinner with you.
But if you insist on Dinner and Theatre, go to Westchester Broadway and enjoy it.

Hello world!

hello world, I have been here a while, but too lazy to attract your attention.
this is the only blog that had comments in it b4 entries.
may you receive as you are giving my generous friends!
special thanks to parrulla for its kind theme song contribution.

Ja na erdhi Viti i Ri! (New Year is coming)

For those of you deprived souls, who did not have a normal Albanian childhood (full of Tirana, Albania, Labour Party parades, choirs, math club, and Scanderbeg pics), the New Year’s Eve is the greatest tradition we have, where we do everything, tree and tinsel, gifts, cards, songs by the wood stove, dinner with parents until midnight, fireworks at midnigh, party with friends after midnight, sh.tfaced by dawn, up and visiting each-other as fast as we can on New Year’s morning.
I say this, so that you understand what happens to me when New Year draws near: I have nothing to wear!!!!!
After one month of trying to organize my family and friends into the semblance of a New Year’s party, yelling and getting yelled at by dad mom, sister, boyfriend of sister, close friend, cousin, boss and squirrels, I finally got results:
New Year’s Party at Maria Pia*, Italian restaurant in Manhattan, but managed by Albanian Friends. The menu is great, the price reasonable, and my mom is nearby in case of fire.
Then, I take the dreaded step: Checking my closet for the Cinderella night. Unfortunately, these people are close people so they have seen me in all these dresses, slacks and corsets (yes, I like corsets). Furthermore, due to unforseen difficulties at work (discovery of a new dunkin donuts) I do not fit into any of them.
What is a girl to do? I did not get a single gift card this year so no shopping. I could wear my boob dress. I do not think anybody remembers what it looks like, except that it is black and my boobs look like melons in it.
The only place I wore it was this Alb Independence Coctail party. I thought all ladies would be splendid in boob dresses. Boy, I have never been more wrong in my life. I do not think people heard anything I said that night. But, I am glad to say, some old men got another reason to live.
This is when it hits me, when you are big, you can either dress slutty or look like a sofa. There are no clothes for me, that can display instead of hiding away, complement instead of screaming “fat!”, make me confident, instead of overprotective of my boobs. Trust me, if you have gone through 10 dresses in the fitting room that are one size too big and still make you overflow, you will not be in a good mood either.
So boob dress it is then. I will jsut have say it out loud ” I got Boobs and I’m proud!”

* Note: As a rule, all waiters and managers of Italian restaurants in Manhattan, especially when called Tony, Luigi or Gianni, are Albanian.