The Titleless And The Weak

I am bored and I have decided to do some work on our Opera d'Junior High, which, I'll remind you, really needs a name, especially as the resident Persian figure and the Patron both are no longer in Junior High. Never mind what will eventually happen when the Phantom gets out of Junior High, God willing. Or unwilling, as the case may be. And, as most things that may be, it is entirely possible. Could one of the brilliant polygots who read the blog come up with something in Spanish, Latin, French, Slavic, Old Norse, Yiddish. . .? I have a few additions to make to our Opera, first off.

Singing cacti will be joining our chorus lines, courtesy of Carl, Lord High Pyrotechnician and Wreaker of Chaos, Havoc, and other Things of that Sort, who the J.G. met at Theatricum and is proud to announce may soon be joining the PotJH. . .er. . .association. He may be blowing things up, but you guys are not to yell at him for this, because he can't help his nature. Plus, he's quite good company. Just don't let him hurt you. And for God's sakes, do not steal his hat. This remark, I assure you, is not directed at anyone whose name shall not be mentioned but who has a tendency to dispense random Douglas Adams quotes. No, really, Carl is very touchy about that hat.

The Opera d'Junior High is located in the middle of Oz.

Elphaba: That's my territory.

Kat: Pardon?

Elphaba: That's my territory. Shove off. One witch to a place of randomness.

Kat: Fine. Be that way.

The Opera d'Junior High is located in the middle of Paris.

Max: But it's not.

Kat: No.

Max: So. . .

Kat: Not sure I get your point.

Gabe: Wow. . .

Max: Besides, you don't speak French.

Kat: No.

Ben: I speak French. In theory.

Mme. T. and David: Theory.

Fine! The Opera d'Junior High is located near the Night Club, which is somewhere intangible, so you can't get mad at poor innocent me. It is as yet the Opera Anonymous. But in any case. The Opera was designed by Erik, and is therefore the most I hate Ben Stiller beatiful building on God's chartreuse Earth though most of the time I don't mind Vince Vaughn

Near the Opera will be such stores as I need and find appropriate, such as the Cafe Modigliani, which besides having great boba tea also harbors Swedish Fish, which no one seems to sell anymore, he was quite good in Swingers, after all outside, of course, of Sweden. Do they really make Swedish fish in Sweden, now? Or then? Or at any time on the span of time, whether that be Pacific Coastal or otherwise? Um, right. I think we shall also have a Blockbuster, well stocked with Miyazaki movies, a Game Rush for Luke and Max, a sort of economy size Disneyland for Ben, a rather large mountain for Gabe, and a trench to play Parcheesi with for Spencer. The Sane Personage, I suppose, can request anything she'd like, as I'm unaware of her tastes.

And now for something completely different. Isn't it a bit odd that we have cakes of soap in our bath at this hotel that are shaped like sushi? Maybe it would be cute if they were fruit scented or something, but they're not. They smell of lye, and it is not appetizing though I probably should not have seen that in the least. I'm bringing them back with me if you don't believe me. I might give them to Mac. Last year they had ginger root shampoo, which was very nice. Every year it's some kind of combination. It can be a little off putting - for example, the cherry and sea salt - but this time they've hit upon a real winner. They call it cocanilla, and it is completely abhorrent. I have a natural dislike of all things coconut, so I've having some phsycological issues with this shampoo and admittedly it's not my favorite movie but it does have its good points. as I am wont to do.

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.

Gods, I love Neil Gaiman's books.