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A Little Musical Cocktext

I’m at Anna’s place for the evening, and her roommate, Kerry is an accompanist for musical theatre. He’s practising for a new show right now, so the warehouse is filled with the sound of his piano and the playback from the original cast recording of the musical he’s got to learn… The Full Monty.

Shelley and I are cracking up at the hot-ass lyrics (“take up 8 whole chapters in the Book of Love”) and the sheer the balls-to-the-wall jazzhandedness of the soundtrack album, and for every song we hear Kerry diligently practicing (and which I must of course, choreograph in my head), we keep remembering there will be a wildly distracting phalanx of swinging peenery to contend with, given the story’s context cocktext. I might have to try and score a ticket, because it sounds kind of awesome.

UPDATE: Yes! Ticket scored! The show is in March (at the Norman Rothstein Theatre), and as I noted to Shez, hopefully it will not be that long until I see some actual swinging peenery all up in my grill. (Phalanxes not required.)