notmypresident: (Countdown)
My Bed Time Movie last night was Fright Night.

This little project from 1985 was The Little Movie That Could, since no one had much faith that it would amount to much. Instead, the clever piece was both a send-up of the horror genre as well as being a loving tribute. The movie is ostensibly about Charlie, a young teenager who can't convince anyone that a vampire has moved into the house next door. I hate it when that happens! But Roddy McDowell really steals the focus as the former second-rate horror movie star who is now host of a second-rate TV show, "Fright Night." Charlie turns to the famous vampire hunter to help him do battle, and McDowell is really quite funny as his screen bravado is ripped away to reveal a scared, fragile actor.

Writer Tom Holland also directed his script, and he came up with a number of clever camera techniques to squeeze more from the film's limited budget. He also insisted on a rich color palette, which helps Fright Night look good 30 years after its initial release. I really enjoy this little triumph and highly recommend it.

Time for Another Hot Guy, Vinny Castillo. I just saw that Castillo does straight porn as well as gay porn, and so I was kind of torn about whether to use his pic here or not. I went with him in the end, but I should have done a better job of vetting!

notmypresident: (Beef)
Ugh. I've spent practically the entire morning on the phone dealing with move-related issues, and I'm ready for a nap. Really, I don't understand how 12 phone calls could leave a person feeling so spent, but they have.

I feel as if I currently have a decent handle on things. I'm trying to deal with matters this far in advance just in case there's an issue. There will be issues, of course. No amount of pre-strike preparation can eliminate them entirely. But so far, so good. I just hope there's no issue with my insurance. I found out today that the new clinic will have to void my existing prescriptions to start over once I have my Oregon residency. There's a potential minefield in there somewhere, but I can't think about it right now.

I'm down 21 pounds as of this morning. Wouldn't it get great if I could hit that sweet spot of 25 pounds gone by the time I leave California?

Now for Another Hot Guy, Damon Andros.

notmypresident: (Laugh Devil Laugh)
OMG. I thought at first that it was a joke, but evidently Donald ("We don't need no stinking glasses!") Trump did indeed look up at the eclipse today without any protective eyewear. Holy fuck! Unless he had a Vulcan inner eyelid, this idiot potentially did himself some series damage to his eyes. Talk about setting a good example for the children of America...

I had my last visit at the dialysis clinic today. It hit me harder than I'd expected. These are people in whom I have absolute trust when it comes to my dialysis needs/concerns, and I'm unlikely to find the same thing waiting for me in Oregon. Phyllis certainly will be irreplaceable, and I miss her already. I'm grateful that I got a private moment before leaving to give her a hug (and I'm not a "hug" person). Everyone offered their support and willingness to work with my new clinic (same parent company), so perhaps that will help. Sigh.

Moving Day edges ever closer. FedEx delivered the latest shipment of supplies, but I need to order even more boxes for my vinyl collection. I can only fill about half a box with LPs before the damn thing becomes too heavy, which effectively doubles the amount of boxes I'll actually need. The good news is that I'll be about halfway through my packing once I get all the LPs boxed. I finished up boxing my books (LOTS of books). I'm sure my father will bitch about why I'm taking so many, but I just won't let go of some of my treasures. I've also got most of my video and audio collection packed. The next big job will be wrapping up dishes and glasses; after that, it's tackling the closets. I'm not sure yet if I'll store all my bearded action figures (LOTS of those, too). I'll have to see how I feel when I get to them. I'm loathe to let go of some of those treasures too.

Now for Geoffrey Paine, Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Bugs Monsters are interesting)
I didn't get a lot accomplished today because I'm out of boxes until the Fed Ex delivery guy shows up with my order tomorrow. I tried not to make the day a complete loss however by bubble wrapping some breakables. Of course, I wound up breaking one of the items in the process, but that's just one less thing I'll have to pack. I've been getting creative when it comes to padding by using stuffed bears and towels and rolls of toilet paper (of which I still have a ton of from a bulk purchase months ago). I'm trying to keep the weight of each box down, which will be a challenge when it comes to packing up my vinyl collection.

My Beddy-Bye Bette movie last night was Now, Voyager. I vacillate between this and The Letter when it comes to listing my favorite Bette movie. The Letter is much more of a "film" than Now, Voyager, by which I mean that it plays like a work of art. Stellar direction, outstanding script, incredible lighting, amazing performances. Now, Voyager shares many of those same qualities, but nevertheless feels outclassed in comparison.

But when it comes to heartfelt emotions, Now, Voyager wins hands-down. I cry a river each and every time I see the film, from the story of two people who will never be together despite their love to the depiction of a child who feels unwanted, unloved, and unattractive. I think that latter aspect makes me appreciate the film even more. Ms. Davis gives what I would argue is her best performance ever (which is saying a lot). If you haven't seen Now, Voyager, put it in you DVD or Blu-ray player one night and sit back to enjoy. Just make sure you have an ample supply of Kleenex handy.

Now for Another Hot Guy, porn star Aleks Buldocek.

notmypresident: (Scream red)
I couldn't fall asleep last night and thought I'd see what I could watch on Amazon Prime Video that might help me doze off. Prime really doesn't have all that great a selection, especially now that companies which Amazon leases titles from shop them around to the various streaming platforms. I'm sure Netflix gets first choice for a certain period, with others falling in behind. And it feels to me like Amazon Prime must be at the end of the line, given the titles they offer.

I took a chance with Suspiria, the 1977 slasher film by Italian director Dario Argento. Argento has quite the reputation in some horror circles, but I've never understood the acclaim for either him or Suspiria. I will give Argento credit for crafting some nice 2.35 anamorphic imagery as well as his inventive overuse of colored lighting. That pretty much depletes all the good things I can say about Argento.

I've seen Suspiria a number of times, and each time I've wondered what all the fuss is about. Still after several years pass by since my last viewing, I end up thinking that maybe I'll see something in it if I give it one more try. I never learn. Suspiria is terribly ham fisted, even by 1977 standards. The cut shots of extreme gore are frankly childish and laughable, and the movie has no pace. Scenes that are meant to be terrifying last far too long, diminishing their effect. I like Jessica Harper, and she does an admirable job here looking confused and bewildered — traits that I share with her after watching this. It seems incredible to me that Suspiria is listed among the "best" horror films ever made. I mean, compared to Hello, Mary Lou: Prom Night II, maybe. But there are plenty more films more deserving of that "best horror film" honor. Plenty.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Scott exasperated)
Is it Caturday yet?

I've kinda/sorta reached a temporary impasse in my packing. I've pretty much used all of the boxes I had on hand, so there's not much more I can do. I have a shipment of boxes due to arrive on Monday, but even now I'm afraid that won't be enough. Who knew I had so much shit to pack? I'm not taking everything of course, but it's not easy saying goodbye to 30 years worth of things. I've managed to toss out a bunch of stuff regardless, including some prized possessions (like my beloved KitchenAid mixer, may it rest in peace).

I'm trying not to think about the new restrictions I'll have from living dad's house, but I haven't been entirely successful with that. The loss of privacy is going to be a huge adjustment for me. Dad has a habit of walking into a room suddenly without any warning, so I'll need to keep my computer activities limited to PG viewing. That means no more desktop backgrounds like this. Sob! And my Xtube account will likely feel like a Ghost Town. Ah, well.

Taking a break from the Another Hot (Pornstar) Guy for Caturday.

notmypresident: (Scream behind bars)
ONOZ! I just discovered that Amazon Fresh doesn't deliver to Beaverton. Fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck fuck! This means I'll have to rely on my dad (or Uber) to get me to and from Fred Meyer's for vittles, something I'd hoped to avoid. It's true that I'll be on Nutrisystem for a few more months, but I'll still need an occasional shopping trip to pick up necessary items (like eggs and Diet Coke). At least supermarkets in Oregon are a helluva lot nicer than the ones here in the Bay Area. But in what kind of sick alternate reality are there places where Amazon does not deliver???


Now for Another Hot Guy, James Jameson.

notmypresident: (Call me!)
Ugh. My internal clock is off (yet again). I woke up and started to think about all the Saturday things I needed to do. I got up, had a Nutrisystem muffin for breakfast, and sat down at the computer for a Caturday entry. It wasn't until I glanced at the upper right of my iMac display that I saw it's still just Friday. Ugh.

I began to binge watch a new Amazon Prime video yesterday, "Trapped." Well, "new" when it comes to Amazon; the Icelandic TV series that was released elsewhere in 2016 and just now popped up in the new offerings on Amazon Prime. I was intrigued by the image for the series, with a hot furry bear popping up as the central image.

That bear turned out to be Ólafur Darri Ólafsson, who stands at 6'4" and makes for an imposing mountain of fur (despite the frigid Icelandic setting, he has a shirtless scene in a later episode that's worth the wait). I was also convinced to watch because of Björn Hlynur Haraldsson, who had played a bearded hottie in the second season of "Fortitude" (another show I discovered via Amazon Prime). Haraldsson only sports a porn stache in "Trapped," but there are plenty of secondary characters and extras who show up to make this a real bear fest. Even the director (Baltasar Kormákur) is a bear!

As for the show, I quite liked it. Being Icelandic, it's subtitled in English (which made packing while I watched a tad difficult), but I otherwise had no problems. There's an overall dour quality to the proceedings, which has the residents of an Icelandic town stranded and isolated by severe weather just as two murders are discovered in the normally tranquil place. I can't remember a single moment of levity during the 10-episode arc, but that's not to say the show isn't worth watching. It's extremely well acted, especially with Ólafsson as the local police chief who is nearly overwhelmed by the murders with only two other policemen under his watch. I wasn't drawn to the whodunnit aspect of the murders so much as I was by the characters themselves. The show does reach a satisfying conclusion, but leaves the door open for future episodes. Here's hoping.

Now for Another Hot Guy, who I'm sure everyone will recognize as Zak Spears.

notmypresident: (Homer D'oh)
Hindsight is always 20/20.

While I enjoyed my Wendy's meal, I really wish I hadn't succumbed to its charm. Isn't that what all victims say when confronted with their mistakes? Yes, the food was tasty. But even as I ate it, I realized that it didn't taste all that great. And I hadn't even taken my third bite before The Guilt set in.

I still have that icky feeling that I've let myself down. But I'm going to try to remember it as an incentive not to make the same mistake twice — which won't be easy, considering that the free DoorDash delivery offer won't expire until tomorrow.

Spock, give me strength!

Now for Trent Locke, Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Joan sad)
So I'm about to break my diet for the first time in six weeks. I woke up this morning feeling so despondent that when I got an email mentioning free delivery for DoorDash, a complete lack of will power saw me ordering lunch from Wendy's.

I feel bad about breaking the diet, but I'm going to try to keep it to just this one meal. I recognize that the danger in going off one's diet is not being able to get back on track. That's especially true right now. It would be very easy for me to say "fuck it" given the prospects of my immediate future. But I'm pretty sure that this is a momentary lapse and not a derailment.

Here's hoping. Now to enjoy that Wendy's burger...

Right after posting Another Hot Guy in the form of Josh West.

notmypresident: (Joan sad)
One of the chores I had to do today was update all of my internet preorders. I went ahead and canceled a number of them outright, but kept the ones that I was really looking forward to. The good news is that I'll no longer have to pay sales tax — fuck you, California! The bad news is that many of the releases that I had expected to enjoy here on my homevideo system won't arrive until after I've relocated. I'm going to have to keep the big speakers (as well as the surrounds, both rear and overhead) in storage.

It's a tough adjustment for me to realize just how little time I have left in San Francisco. The local news is full of reports talking about things about to happen (like new trains for the BART system), things which I will no longer be a part of. I suppose I'm tired from another day of packing, but I can't help feeling a little bit sorry for myself. Ah, well.

Now for Another Hot Guy, one I'm sure everyone recognizes as Jack Radcliffe.

notmypresident: (Call me!)
Time to take a break. Geez, this packing thing gets old real fast.

One of the cool aspects to this is that I'm able to reuse the boxes for my dialysis fluids. I've always bitched about the amount of cardboard I have to cut up for recycling (in two weeks I can fill two of the large recycling bins), so it's ironic that I'm now able to save a few pennies by recycling them as packing boxes. I'd even fallen behind on cutting up old boxes, so I actually had quite a few on hand when the eviction notice arrived. I *knew* being lazy would pay off some day.

I have to shore the boxes up with tape, of course. But it's now kind of a system that I've got going. The boxes are also the perfect size because they tend not to hold a lot in the way of contents, but that cuts down on weight. Some of the bigger boxes are a bitch simply because they weigh so much once filled. I'm hoping that more boxes at lesser weights works better than few boxes at heavier weights when Moving Day arrives. I'm paying two guys for two hours of loading, so I guess it doesn't matter all that much. Still...

Hmm. Break time is over, but I may just take a little extra time for myself.

Whatever I end up doing, there's always time for Another Hot Guy — Tim Kruger, the man behind TimTales, a NSFW porn site.

notmypresident: (Call me!)
One thing that's stayed with me since this new chapter in my life began has been a feeling of dread, a queasy feeling rather akin to an upset stomach that no amount of Pepto Bismol will help. It's a bit of a crush, and it hits me hardest when I'm not keeping busy. That makes getting to sleep especially difficult. I've been having trouble sleeping for the longest time already, so I've taken to putting on Bette Davis films to watch in bed as a pleasant distraction. It tends to work, but sometimes when the disc reverts to the main menu after the movie has finished the accompanying music is loud enough to wake me. Not sure why video companies feel the need to amp the music for menus, but some do.

I've officially lost 20 pounds. Can't remember if I've already mentioned that. And I'm somehow managing to stick to the diet even though recent events would typically have sent me straight for the cookie jar. I'm just sorry that I won't have reached my goal weight by the time I move into my dad's house. I'd wanted to be nice and trim for the next time I traveled to Portland.

I'm trying to approach packing by attacking individual rooms. I've finished boxing up all of the videos and books from the living room, and even bubble wrapped a number of my framed movie posters. Well, at least the smaller ones. Not sure what I'll do with the huge print of the original Metropolis poster. It weighs a fucking ton! So does "The Bear Ages" print. Ah, well.

Now for Another Hot Guy, who goes by the name Damien Stone.

notmypresident: (Scott exasperated)
So: 24 hours later.

I'm feeling a bit less shaken after yesterday's news. My father has been a bedrock of support, for which I'm grateful. Only one day after getting that devastating email and I've already accomplished a shit load of work.

Current plans are for my dad and a relative to take the train down here on September 12. We'll then pick up a U-haul truck that I've reserved, for which I've also hired workers to load on the 13th. If all goes as planned, my dad will drive us back to Oregon that same day. I figure it will take two days to get there, so it looks as if I will become an Oregon resident as of September 15th. Yay! No sales tax...

I've already started to pack and have ordered additional boxing/shipping materials. It's surprising how quickly a box becomes full, let me tell you. Unfortunately, I've done all I can today because I ran out of sealing tape and more won't arrive until tomorrow. That's okay, though. My nerves are still rattled, and I don't want to push myself too hard.

Dad has been amazingly supportive. I told him how apprehensive I was about moving into his house, and he told me not to worry. I was rather surprised that he had no trouble offering to remove all the current furniture in what was my mom's former bedroom so that I could fill it with my bedroom furniture (he also offered me the adjacent room for use). He's just being incredibly gracious. I think the shock of not having my own place will be lessened just a bit by being able to set up those two rooms as my own.

I've also been in touch with my medical providers, both here and in Oregon. I'll be staying with the same overall company for my dialysis clinic, and they've already set me up with a tentative nephrologist. I've had such incredible care and service here at my current clinic that I'm a little apprehensive about having to work with completely unknown people. What's nice is that I'm not locked into anything and plans can be adjusted if I get there and feel that something isn't working out.

I still wish this weren't happening, but that's like wishing for a 12-inch dick when I wake up tomorrow.

Now for Another Hot Guy, the first in a series of bearded pornstars. I typically steer away from using pornstars because (a) most folks have already seen them on the internet, and (b) I typically would have to crop away the best bits. The pics I use this week will be (relatively) work safe, and I'll provide the name of the guy if I know it. This fella goes by the name of Nick Prescott.

notmypresident: (Depressed)
Well, consider me gobsmacked. I got an e-mail from the owner of the house this afternoon that I have 31 days to move out. This, after our heart-to-heart talk of just a few days ago where he told me that it wasn't really his intent to sell the house. This, after he told me that next year would be the soonest that he would even think about selling. This, after my matching his reasons for thinking about selling with alternatives. I took him at his word and felt relatively reassured that life would go on here.

But it turns out he lied straight to my face.

I have a call in to my dad to see if I can move in with him, but he's working today and so I must wait. The thought of being in his space and giving up my own KILLS me, but what else is there? You hear about people having to move in with their family all the time, but I never thought it would happen to me.

I'm going to have to abandon nearly everything I own, though I really don't want to trash my brand new TV. I may have to, however. I can't afford movers, but perhaps that's an option dad will lend a hand with. I will be lucky to summon enough energy to get the little things packed in four weeks, little things such as my CDs and books and Blu-rays. Not sure about all the vinyl I've collected; they're heavy as shit and I may have to leave them behind. I will need to make arrangements for my medical equipment and supplies, but I need to hear from my dad first. I have to consider everything else a wash. I'm not even sure how I will be able to salvage my "Bear Ages" print in the living room.

I'm so angry / confused / scared right now that I can barely type. I feel as if my world is coming to an end, I truly do.
notmypresident: (Edna Trying to Iron)
I woke up feeling like crap yesterday. I'm not sure why, but I haven't really felt that out of it for a long time. And I have no clue as to the cause; as soon as I stood up, I just felt oogey. So I basically did absolutely nothing yesterday. No cleaning, no washing, no nothing. Hell, I didn't even blog (and so missed a Caturday entry).

I did eat. The tough part about not feeling well is that your will power basically disappears. I just didn't give a damn about the diet. Thankfully, I don't really have a lot of "bad" food in the house at this point, and so I somehow managed to still stay within the daily caloric intake that the Nutrisystem diet dictates. And the scales this morning revealed that I've now lost a solid 19 pounds, so that's made me feel a bit better today.

I also watched movies. Thanks to the Warner Bros. anthology collection of all of The Exorcist films, I basically immersed myself in demonic possession yesterday. The original is a masterpiece (IMHO), so I skipped that one because I knew everything that followed couldn't compare. That meant that the first disc to go into the player was Exorcist II: The Heretic. Goddamn, but this is one shitty movie. It easily wins my vote for The Worst Movie Ever. Fuck Ed Wood. At least no one expected anything from him. The folks behind this piece of excrement were experienced Hollywood veterans. How could they produce something that contains not a single frame worth watching? I remember seeing this on the first day it was released in theaters and couldn't believe my eyes. I still can't, 40 years later.

I find it somewhat interesting that the next two films in the series were both rejected when first viewed by corporate heads, who forced the directors to make massive changes. The horror elements in Exorcist III were beefed up considerably, though the over-top final exorcism in the mental institution is a bit much. And studio execs basically threw out the entire first version of the next film and hired a new director in the guise of Renny Harlin to come up with Exorcist: The Beginning. When that movie tanked at the box office, director Paul Schrader was brought back and asked to edit and release his version, Dominion: Prequel to The Exorcist. It's not the first time a movie has been completely redone, but it is a rare (and expensive) occurrence. And to be honest, I prefer Harlin's horror film to Schrader's cerebral approach. I mean, this is The Exorcist, after all.

More movies are on tap for today, but I'm going to push myself a bit to try to get my mojo back. Here's hoping.

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Star Wars)
I fucking love the latest character posters for The Last Jedi, but this one really caught my attention as being particularly beautiful.

I can't say that the loss of Carrie Fisher this past year still hurts, but there's a definite feeling of continuing loss for me. It's a gap, a hole in popular culture — not a big one, but there nevertheless — that the woman's death has left. I know watching The Last Jedi will be slightly bittersweet, knowing that it was Fisher's last film. It's unfortunate that the series won't be able to include her in any farewell arc; The Last Jedi was essentially completed when the actress died, so we won't get any onscreen goodbyes. And apparently, the next Star Wars film was meant to include General Leia in a big way, though that may simply have been an offhand comment meant to compliment Fisher's contributions once she was gone. But they'll have to address the absence is some way, and I'm sure I'm not the only one interested in seeing how they pay tribute to her.

BTW, with all the talk about Rey being the daughter of Luke Skywalker, has anyone brought up the possibility that she's the daughter of Leia and Han? Of course, that would mean that she's (gasp) Kylo Ren's sister/twin! Isn't that a more solid connection for their ultimate showdown than possibly being mere cousins? It would be a nice way to beef up Leia's role in the overall series, and Star Wars IX could reveal that Kylo killed Leia (offscreen, of course) in addition to having dispatched Han. Patricide and matricide! What a reveal that would be! I'm just sayin'...

Anyway, now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Millie Thoroughly Modern)
There are some things that I cannot change but which still remain incredibly exasperating, such as our culture's neverending obsession with cheating. The finger pointing at who cheated on whom is everywhere. It's a staple of daytime TV talk shows, which means that millions of viewers tune in to watch tears being shed by one person or another because their boyfriend — it's almost always women that the cameras focus on — has stepped out with one person or another. It's less of a prevalent theme on nightly TV, though the so-called reality shows will mine the subject every once in a while. [Curiously, I noted in my brief viewing of "Big Brother" that the heterosexual contestants seem to hook up at the drop of a hat with no mention of outside relationships that they may be "cheating" on.] As for Hollywood, cheating seems to be a theme that is currently out of phase (remember Fatal Attraction?), but I'm sure that's only temporary.

A good deal of this obsession seems rooted in a "victim" mentality. No one enjoys feeling betrayed, but making oneself a martyr seems to be taking things to a new extreme. "I gave him the best year(s) of my life!!!" strikes me as not only a gross example of emotional immaturity but also incredibly self-serving. What good can come of crying about how wronged you were? It's time to put on your Big Girl Panties and accept the situation: your relationship didn't work out. Stop being a victim. Sure, the loss of love (if that's what it was) hurts, but you move on. You don't go on national television to whine about it.

But if it was just a sexual liaison, well, that's different. Sex is sex. I know that's an incomprehensible idea to many people in this heteronormative society, but it's true. Sex is associated with commitment because it seemed the best way to promulgate the species. Plus, having lots of sex brought about physical risks like STDs; committing to one person reduced the odds of contracting one. That didn't stop folks (both men and women) in committed relationships from "cheating" on one another though because sex is natural. It's physical. It's fun. It's healthy. And it's just sex. The idea that one can satisfy the sexual needs of one other person 100% of the time is ludicrous.

Now, I admit to being a bit hard-nosed about the subject because of my own personal makeup. For me, a relationship is all about emotions. I never believed in Happily Ever After, so when a relationship has reached the end of its course, I find that it's time for whatever comes next. "Cheating" is, I believe, a word that's simply an excuse, a rationale to shift responsibility onto someone else. My partner can fuck anyone and everyone he wants (so can I, for that matter) as long as there's an emotional commitment to me. And if that's not there, it's not much of a relationship, is it?

I find it a shame that more people don't feel similarly.

Now (finally!) I'll step off my soapbox and present Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Bugs Monsters are interesting)
Today saw a regularly scheduled visit to my dialysis clinic. I had exceptionally good Uber drivers, both going to and coming back. They were both very chatty, which is always nice. I always rank the chatty ones a bit higher than those who sit behind the wheel in sullen silence.

My regular RN was back today. Phyllis has been traveling during my past two clinic visits, so it was nice to finally see her again. There's something about talking with an ex-New Yorker that I just love. She was unaware that I'd started my diet and was rather surprised that I'd lost so much (down 18 pounds as of today) in only four and a half weeks. I told her all about Nutrisystem and she told me all about her visit to Florida and the sweltering heat/humidity. Ugh. I won't even be caught dead in Florida, thank you very much. My brain/body stops working correctly in any climate that's hotter than 85°. Come to think of it, I believe the same thing happens to just about anyone in a climate that's hotter than 85°!

Now for Another Hot Guy.

notmypresident: (Evita Peron)
I really can't fathom the intricacies of Broadway sometimes.

Word came today that "Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812" will be closing in early September, with only 336 performances to its credit. And mind you, this is for a musical that was both highly regarded and well received. In fact, a look at last week's boxoffice take shows that the show was at 81% capacity before today's announcement. 81% in an off-peak season (summers are always slow for Broadway shows) is doing rather well and makes the closing notice a mystery.

There are plenty of other current Broadway musicals with smaller ticket sales — "Come From Away," "School of Rock," and even the chestnut "Cats" — that continue to run. And while "Great Comet" has a large operating expense, there are plenty of other underperforming musicals ("Miss Saigon") that can make the same claim but still manage to keep their doors open. I dunno.

It's disappointing that so many of the shows that I saw and quite liked aren't doing well. "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" never recovered from the Tony snub (it's only at 72% capacity and most certainly costs a bundle to keep running each week). "Groundhog Day" had its problems, but I thought it would do better (it's only filling 47% of its theater's capacity). Worst of all, "War Paint" is only doing 45% capacity. I would not be surprised to see closing notices performed for these and other shows in the near future. Sad!

Now for Another Hot Guy.


notmypresident: (Default)

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