I realize I haven’t been to bloggy of OH RIGHT, WHY I’M HERE. The fringe festival is incredible and insane and shockingly well-organized. Each show runs about an hour, and is located approximately ten feet from a bar, so its entirely possible to see approximately 1,000 plays  per day and drink 1,000 beers.  One second its sunny and hot, one second it’s pouring rain, then sunny again, so you find yourself sort of tipsily jogging from one show to the next soaking one way or the other. It’s great and I have yet to see anything bad (though there are some 3,000 shows so chances are, there’s some shite.)  It’s  so much more than plays:  it’s really smart stand up, it’s music, it’s sketch comedy, and last night, it was a SCOTTISH LINE DANCING PARTY:

Which is called a Ceilidh? (Pronounced Kay-lee, like what teen moms name their daughters in Florida.) The audience is divided up into waring clans, and for an hour and a half you are led  in a massive dance off, spinning with strangers and loosing your pants. WHY CAN’T THIS HAPPEN ALL OF THE TIME / CAN THIS HAPPEN ALL OF THE TIME?