Have I mentioned this? I’m a part of this pretty stellar group of actors/writers/directors 18-25 (sort of) – At Play Productions.
This group is the reason I have sometimes have drinks with* Kevin Spacey. Sometimes. / * in same room as.
This weekend, we retreated, so hard, as theatrical types do – to Locust Valley, Long Island – where Ms. Mary Quick (actor; cutebottom) has a family summer home plantation type situation.
With a decent number of attenders, some 30 bottles of assorted liquors, and 500 bucks worth of cookie dough/ lunchmeat/ lasagna/ sasuages / marshmallows / assorted fat-causing substances, and four new plays to workshop – we certainly had our work cut out for us.
And what began peacefully with American Apparel-esque lounging about –
And theatrical mad libs (favorite phrases include (but are not limited to: Should I put my penis down and set a date, or continue being gnarly? and I will have the soft-shelled whorebass with homemade pantie sauce. etc.)
…soon got dirty when night fell.
Possessed by the spirit of retreaty-ness, of reckless abandon, of Youth, of drama club days of yore – we found ourselves eating cookie dough with our hands,
striking khaki-induced poses,
Cackling to assorted youtube affronteries:
Revelling in each other’s hidden talents – (playing with French toys whilst the token British Member of Theater Company rhymthically recites the names of every king of England. You know, and so on:)
Walking it out as a Group –
and eating of cold, late night chicken wings –
…Ew. Oh, Bobby.
Not pictured, for sake of the safety of the photographer – rowdy games of competitive, cut-throat charades, fooz ball, ping pong, and Mafia (in which your Heroine / Bstetter secretly murdered the crap out of everyone.)
In our defense, we also workshopped all four plays. For real. We walked it out with my play, Le Fou, in which I made Kit Williamson (far left) play an old lady. He was better than the the movie.
All in all, a hootin/hollerin throw down; a (distinguished / collaborative) high school – esque / drama club / eatin hash browns from a box while drivin lovely good time. I am thrice glad I won’t.
Those who didn’t: kindly stew and marinate in your jealousy.