Jer and I saw "The Wedding Singer" last night in its pre-Broadway engagement at the 5th Avenue Theatre. It was okay. I'm a huge fan of Stephen Lynch, but the structure of the play had some problems. Transitions were forced, a lot of the jokes weren't funny, and the choreographer/costume designer should've talked, because I saw wayyy more bikini line than necessary.

brains

I tend to sleep early and rise early because, well, my job requires it. If not for work I'd stay up all hours, nap whenever I wanted, and just let nature take its course. But for some reason, no one will pay me to do that, and since the play got out at 10:30pm and this morning I was up at 5:30am... I require massive amounts of caffeine to feel alive. At the moment I'm 65% zombie. The actual percentage shifts as I ingest more Diet Dr Pepper, but you get the idea.

brains

Before the play we ate decent Mexican food and made fun of the couple sitting behind us who were very much in love and wanted everyone to know. They were in a booth like us, only they were both sitting on the bench behind me, their arms draped over the back and around each other in some twisted Gumby construction. If I leaned back in my seat, I'd touch one of their arms and we can't have that.

Speaking of touching, we were in a grocery/deli and Jer and I bought bottles of Moxie, only Jer couldn't get his open because it needed an opener, and when we asked the clerk he rummaged around and couldn't find one. So this customer, this teenage male, rattily dressed like many a teenage male, takes the bottle in an attempt to help, and it's horrifying. He grips the cap with his whole hand and twists around the lip, repeatedly. Then, as I think, ew, his hands look dirty, he lifts the bottle to his mouth, then BITES off the cap. Then he hands the bottle back to Jer.

AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jer drank it anyway. Because he is hardcore for Moxie.

brains