In Which Your Humble Blogger retells one anecdote out of the book, improving it somewhat, perhaps.
In Which Your Humble Blogger was also disappointed that there wasn’t a pattern in the back of the book.
In Which Your Humble Blogger joins the approving chorus.
In Which Your Humble Blogger also hates the idea of the actors mingling with the audience in character beforehand, but would certainly do it to nab a part, you know?
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t know much about art, but knows what he likes.
In Which Your Humble Blogger attempts to explain about how I walked in to the show, which isn’t perhaps everybody’s experience.
In Which Your Humble Blogger would like to fight terrorism with love, because what else is there.
In Which Your Humble Blogger curtails his Walpoling activites, sallies forth, and infiltrates your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some cheesy comestibles.
In Which Your Humble Blogger forgot to type anything into this text box.