so. if you want to see something pretty funny (but hey it's art) - go see fiddler on the roof in bedford va. there were new york style jew accents (yente), russian accents, thick bedford accents behind bad russian accents - it was pretty crazy. the acting was dece - but i had a blast when i secretly hoping someone would magically know to tm me the nadal score to my phone.
that happened to me once or twice in my life - because goddamn if i'm going to pay for a data package ever again.
me and annette were talking on whe way out - that even in jersey the little player deals would draw a pretty mixed group - here it was old ladies and old men and that's it. and i would bet you - a million dollars (if i had it) that none of the people there are born bedfordians. see out here we're talking culture now - these are the same neighbors that will scorn you if you invite them to do something on a saturday that their precious hokies are playing. and i swear if you look up the number of seats in that mother fucking stadium - it will be just a few short of the state population. i am not kidding - everybody here goes or they have enough orange and maroon on the cars you can't tell if you're looking at a piece of shit or a decent car.
this is why finding a boyfriend out here - nevermind a fucking fan of tennis (don't even bring up soccer!) - is IMPOSSIBLE.
i tried to pretend and gave one solitary morsel of my mind to bruce when i hooted (?) for the hookies. but i couldn't pretend longer than that - and he wound up being pissed. i can make A LOT of enemies in these parts - (here goes) - but if you didn't go or your family didn't go - HELL - if you know you can't get in and let's face it three generations down don't even have a chance to get in - you shouldn't be a fan.
stick to your turkey shoots on saturday night and we'll let it be.
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