95 years ago on this day, this drivel premiered. Around 87 years later, I got suckered into seeing it with then-wife Gamara and some friends, including William Wallace (known to you hereabouts as "Steven") and his uberfabulous spouse Ellen the Hun, on the pretense that it was "Russian ballet," which was, of course, technically true, but not in the sense that I thought (which would have involved Tchaikovsky and babes--as Gamara and the real mastermind behind this crime knew perfectly well).
Now, it was a great evening overall, and an experience I'm glad to have had; we had wonderful food and wine and rode in a limousine to the Kennedy Center and laughed our tits off. But one man knows that I haven't forgotten this ignominious act of betrayal:
Hope you're happily commemorating this crucial day in cultural history, Hamster Hamlet, you tights-loving Europoof.
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