So, I was checking out last year’s Fringe pictures today because, damn, I miss having my own theatre festival, and I realized that I remain slightly embittered about the fact that, even though Tanya and I ran the entire festival and there are 164 pictures of said festival, there is only one picture with me in it because I was always running around being busy and important rather than sitting around backstage, and it happens to be this one, which serves as a happy reminder of what happens when bad haircuts happen to good people.
On the bright side, I distinctly remember that while this picture was taken, I was excitedly talking about X-Files. Which is why I look so happy. Because one can only truly be happy when one is thinking of X-Files. Everything else in the world is tragedy.
that’s a beautiful picture of you
Thanks but…I don’t know if I believe you. And why am I playing air piano on the stage of the Maureen Forrester Recital Hall? Such questions will perplex for centuries to come.