Wednesday, July 7, 2010

If you want an omelette, you've got to break a few legs...

Oh darlings. What a horror week I have had.

To start with, I had a frightful weekend of traveling and touring that sent me positively around the bend and left me with a cold big enough to slay a walrus. Not a mild-mannered Antarctic walrus. Oh no. Rather, one of those cocktail-weiner-guzzling, buffet-frequenting resort walruses that one finds in all the worst hotels. It takes a decent shot of tranquilizers to knock down a swamp-donkey of that size.

Oh but I digress! My pained throat. I had a dreadful time trying to sing my way through the American Songbook at Vinny's Diner the other night. A chesty voice on a woman of my young years is just not becoming. If it hasn't worked for that talentless hack Liza, goodness knows why it would work for me.

But I have pushed through, with a resolve that can only be described as heroic, and I feel I must be on the mend. Notwithstanding my gargantuan hangover (let's just say Ms. Von Teese wasn't the only one swimming in martinis last night), I feel alright. Give me a whiskey throw-down and I'll be ready to go on stage once more.


Ugh. I think I just coughed up a swizzle stick.

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