Fellow Lushes
:: Teatro Triste del Clown
:: Principia Dischordia
:: Mexican Blonde TV
:: Charles Grandiose
:: Bowling for Jesus
:: Jenna Springer
:: Joey Michaels
:: YesAnd.com
:: Wondergirl
:: Section-9
:: Metafilter
:: Vutant
<< current

Lady Potamus' Tea Room
Thursday, August 29, 2002  
Hello Darlings!

Lady Potamus here!

I had the distinct pleasure of being invited for a chat session with Shaun Landry and Sam Shaw, two of American's premiere improvisators! Here is the unformated transcript!

You have just entered room "Shaun Landry Chat."

Lady P: My goodness! This is fascinating technology!
Shaun: Lady P, Sam Shaw
Sam: holy shit. uh. hello.
Lady P: I am so pleased to meet you at last Mr. Shaw!
Sam: uh yeah
Lady P: Why, you are the first Shaw I have met since George Bernard Shaw.
Lady P: I remember the opening of his play "Major Barbara."
Sam: uh..no relation....
Lady P: "George Bernard," I said, (he hated to be called George)

Sam has left the room.

Shawn: Oh my...he split
Lady P: "George Bernard, you will never get anywhere doing a play about the Salvation Army."
Shaun: LOL
Lady P: Oh my goodness. I have frightened him away.
Shaun: That is odd.
Shaun: He flipped
Lady P: That happens with most men I meet. As my dear friend Liz Phair would say, 'Fuck and run."
Shaun: Now is on the phone with me
Shaun: LOL...
Lady P: It is a tragedy.
Shaun: LOL
Shaun: I wish you can hear me lauging
Lady P: Overwhelming feminity can do that to a man.
Shaun: We are both laughin
Lady P: Laughter makes me feel like a wee girl in Kitchener, Ontario again.
Lady P: Oh, how we laughed.
Shaun: He said he needed to Eat
Shaun: I dont know what the means.
Shaun: Oh poor po chile
Lady P: I will assume it is some sort of droll erotic reference and be quietly pleased.
Shaun: Yes. That is what I just told him too. Then proceeded to call him a big ol chicken shit
Lady P: Well, just between you and we, dear child, some men enjoy that sort of rough talk. Bully for you!
Shaun: So how are you...How is that Anartic Campaign going
Lady P: Alas, the Antartic campaign has hit a snag.
Shaun: Oh my...what happened?
Lady P: Apparently, rogue postal workers were using the ice to cool themselves off after a long day's mail delivery.
Lady P: You would think there would be laws against this sort of thing!
Shaun: Well that is tampering with the mail!
Lady P: Well, we are a bit more lax about these things in Canada.
Shaun: ahhhh...
Shaun: Jesus.
Lady P: My mail carrier, Lionel Lumpkin, no relation to Willie Lumpkin, often comes over to my house and actually reads my mail.
Shaun: You have to TELL ME WHO YOU ARE
Shaun: LOL
Lady P: Ah, but you already know who I am, you lovely, lovely portrait of womanhood.
Shaun: arggh.
Lady P: I apologize. That was an ill turn of phrase.
Lady P: A vile turn of phrase.
Lady P: Let me try again.
Shaun: You might have told me...But I apologize
Shaun: Its the bong resin
Lady P: You lovely, lovely statue of femininity.
Lady P: That is a tad better.
Shaun: awwww
Lady P: Why, I remember talking with my dear, dear friend Stu of The Brothers Grinn and he told me that if his heart didn't belong to me, it would to you. Or to his significant other.
Lady P: I really think you need to come down to SF and we need to get shitfaced and talk about the war
Lady P: Damn this senility.
Shaun: Stu?
Shaun: Oh my good baby.
Lady P: Why dear Shaun, I am shitfaced even as we type.
Lady P: It is the only way to compute
Lady P: Stu is a charming older gent.
Shaun: Yes he is.
Shaun: An awesome fucking human being.
Lady P: You, he and I had some times back on the old alt.comedy.improvisation board.
Lady P: Ah, but those were the days.
Shaun: Oh those were grand times
Lady P: No flaming.
Lady P: Ample parking.
Lady P: Slaping for everyone!
Shaun: Cushy seats
Lady P: True dat, if I may be hip for a moment.
Lady P: Now I've made myself giggle!
Shaun: he...you made me do the same thing
Lady P: Ah, it must be the hooch giggling! Do you kids still call illegal rye intoxicants hooch?
Shaun: yeah. Some things never change you know
Lady P: Ah, splendid. It is such a powerful word. Hooch. Hoooooooch.
Lady P: I feel happy just typing.
Lady P: Typing "hooch," that is.
Shaun: My love, I got three AIM's up...ond from Jill Bernard...the other from Kevin Robbins.
Shaun: Can we chat later
Shaun: ?
Lady P: Absoltuely. It has been a pleasure!
Lady P: Hmmm. Absolut... there is a thought.
Shaun: The pleasure was all mine
Shaun: You wonderful Whore
Slhaun: :-)
Lady P: Farewell, dove!
Shaun: bi
Shaun has left the room

How I adore that child! Cheers, children!

10:49 PM

Tuesday, August 27, 2002  
Hello my darlings!

Lady Potamus here!

Today, I actually need to talk to you about a very serious subject. The melting of the polar ice caps.

First, a little background. The other day, I was meandering home from a delightful evening of drinking and fine music (an annual Kitchener event called "Schnapps and Pops"), when I accidently stumbled into a lecture at one of our fine local institutes of higher education. I leaned against a chair to catch my breath, and to stop the room from revolving around me, when I realized that somebody was talking.

Upon closer inspection (I actually got within four inches of the lecturer's face before being made to sit down by a combination of gravity and a rather large, hunky young gentlemen dressed in a business suit), I discovered the talk was on the melting of the polar ice caps. Then, I passed out.

Several hours later, I woke up in the fine guest cottage that this university was providing for the lecturer. He introduced himself as... well, frankly, he is nobody important or even famous, so I didn't bother to get his name. The point is, that he spent the next three hours explaining global warming and trying to get into my pink stretch pants.

Normally, I wouldn't turn down an opportunity for hangover sex with a complete stranger, but I suddenly realized I had the solution to this whole global warming bother!

Thus, I am asking you, my dear friends, to save all of your cocktail ice.

Every year, millions of tons of cocktail ice gets thrown away without nary a thought. If we all saved this ice and sent it to the Artic circle, we heavy drinkers could single handedly save the planet. Best of all, it gives us an excellent excuse to order more drinks.

Since I realized this, I have been putting all of my extra cocktail ice into envelopes and sending it to this address:


I assume it is getting there, as the one envelope that was returned to sender for lack of postage was returned empty, if damaged.

Do your bit to save the world. Order a drink with lots of ice right now!

7:18 PM

This page is powered by Blogger.