concert status: over
Gabwerglesnrk.
*collapses*
I wonder how much it costs to hire one of those pretty Asian women who walk up and down on your back until the muscles stop hurting. More money than I have, I'm sure. And one can hardly pound the hell out of one's own shoulderblades. Bah.
Watching Les Miserables.
I love you, Enjolras. Sure, sure, marry France; I'll be your whorish mistress.
...you work that trenchcoat, Eponine honey. I love you as well.
So maybe I know this musical far too well to be considered sane, but I've had the music poured into me since I was very small. Phillip Quast's Javert is perfection. The harp solo behind On My Own is perfection. Enjolras is my fucking hero, man.
Don't you say a word.
*collapses*
I wonder how much it costs to hire one of those pretty Asian women who walk up and down on your back until the muscles stop hurting. More money than I have, I'm sure. And one can hardly pound the hell out of one's own shoulderblades. Bah.
Watching Les Miserables.
I love you, Enjolras. Sure, sure, marry France; I'll be your whorish mistress.
...you work that trenchcoat, Eponine honey. I love you as well.
So maybe I know this musical far too well to be considered sane, but I've had the music poured into me since I was very small. Phillip Quast's Javert is perfection. The harp solo behind On My Own is perfection. Enjolras is my fucking hero, man.
Don't you say a word.
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I'm right there with you. My mother gave me a tape of the original London cast when I was young, despite not actually liking the musical herself. And then she complained when I listened to it non-stop and soon had the entire show memorized. Thankfully for everyone around me, I was much less tone deaf as a child. I do not know what happened. *grins*
*pounds the hell out of your shoulder blades for you*
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And yes, there is a high probability you could shove me on stage and I could sing any part imaginable, although for many of them I would need to be gifted with a hefty pair of lungs and a nice tenor voice.
MilliCon. We'll sing it and annoy the crap out of everyone :D
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Fahye and Heather: *construct a makeshift barricade out of folding metal chairs in the corner of the room, climb up and look purposeful*
*warble* Will you give all you can give so that our banner may advance? Some will fall and some will live. Will you stand up and take your chance? The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France ...
Ji: Ah, revolution! *joins*
Milli-folken: ...
We were sitting on those.
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Red, the blood of angry meeeen!
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Black, the dark of ages paaaaast!
[hee. :D]
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*flees*
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*wraps red cummerbund around you and shoves you out onto barricades*
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On My Own, in French. I do not remember where I got this. :D
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One day I'll track down a whole French recording. One day.
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What is it with the Australian LM talent? I've only seen one other who can even come close. And the music is pure genius; it kills me that they've whittled down so many productions. :/
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SEEN? MANY? LONDON? WHAT! I've seen it ONCE on the West End. Once. It is a treasured, treasured memory. You whore.
Sekrit about Philip Quast: I grew up watching Play School, which is kind of the Australian version of Sesame Street only without quite so many annoying puppets, and he was my favourite presenter. When I found out he was ALSO Javert in that musical that my parents kept showing me the video of...explosion of love, man. Explosion.
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