In brief: Suck.

Folks unable to make it to the Cheese Lord performance at the Kennedy Center Millennium Stage last night should be grateful for they busy schedules. It was, without question or exception, the worst performance we've done in the last 3 years at least. It was unqualifiedly sucktastic. We dropped pitch vertiginously on almost everything; our chords were microtuned when they were tuned at all. We successfully combined the vivacity of Paul Sorvino with the grace of Tor Johnson, and capped it all with the vocal stylings of Stephen Hawking.

The only solace I can take from the experience is, we made everybody sound like shit, not just me. We made Palestrina sound like shit, and you really have to be tryin'.

I need to consider finding a better group to sing with. This shit don't flush.

Sonnet from... well, from Sidetrack in Chicago

Two guys walked by the table where I sat, and one was telling the other about a friend of his who had written a play wherein Karen Carpenter and Mama Cass were lovers in hell. That's all I heard about it, and all I needed hear.

When Karen Carpenter and Mama Cass
First met in hell, they couldn't stand each other:
Since Karen (who had insufficient ass
For Mama's taste) needed another mother
Like she needed a Hostess* in the head.
(*Twinkie, that is. Sponge cake. Legal defense.)
This makes for tepid drama. So I said,
I guess it's up to me to talk some sense
Into these gals; whereto I worked a spell,
Calling in favors from Venus and Mars
To chill my everlasting bonfire*. (*Hell,
That is. Swimming pools. Naughty movie stars.)
Since then Karen and Cass do naught but screw—
Which means that Richard's berth is ready, too.