Monday, March 12, 2007
May I do a marathon in your pants?
This harmless question, which makes complete sense in the proper context, did send me into one of those giggle-fits I like so much, as it led me to the wealth of double-entendres to do with track-and-field and sex. (Which the Germans, by the way, have on tracks and in fields).
Can I put my javelin?
Wanna toss my discus?
Where do you want the shot put?
And one could go on about relays, sprints, urine testing, but I'll cut it short there, as this will someday become a song, and I want to keep a few of these juicy thought-wads to myself.
BTW: Lucie bought a pair of tight running pants that I took over. First marathon of the season is in two weeks, and since it's still a bit nippy out, I asked her "May I do a marathon in your pants?"
On the singing front: I just got back from four days of audition hell. I made the finals of the auditions for "Les Jeunes Voix du Rhin" in Colmar. Quite an honour, but that means I had to go back to Colmar; not something I was looking forward to after my first trip. But a gig, is a gig, so I racked up my credit card bill like a good little solder for the second trip in 3 days (complicated by a terrible train connection that, thanks to one small suicide, put me over 3 hours behind schedule. God, suicidal people are selfish! Why don't they go kill someone else insead. Always about "me me me". )
So they put us through the ringer for the whole day, only to tell us at the end that NONE OF US were taken. I guess Colmar is such a rockin' place that every young opera singer is just dying to spend hundreds to go and sing for them. Well, they can rock without me. I'm gonna go put my javelin.
Love,
Kevin
This harmless question, which makes complete sense in the proper context, did send me into one of those giggle-fits I like so much, as it led me to the wealth of double-entendres to do with track-and-field and sex. (Which the Germans, by the way, have on tracks and in fields).
Can I put my javelin?
Wanna toss my discus?
Where do you want the shot put?
And one could go on about relays, sprints, urine testing, but I'll cut it short there, as this will someday become a song, and I want to keep a few of these juicy thought-wads to myself.
BTW: Lucie bought a pair of tight running pants that I took over. First marathon of the season is in two weeks, and since it's still a bit nippy out, I asked her "May I do a marathon in your pants?"
On the singing front: I just got back from four days of audition hell. I made the finals of the auditions for "Les Jeunes Voix du Rhin" in Colmar. Quite an honour, but that means I had to go back to Colmar; not something I was looking forward to after my first trip. But a gig, is a gig, so I racked up my credit card bill like a good little solder for the second trip in 3 days (complicated by a terrible train connection that, thanks to one small suicide, put me over 3 hours behind schedule. God, suicidal people are selfish! Why don't they go kill someone else insead. Always about "me me me". )
So they put us through the ringer for the whole day, only to tell us at the end that NONE OF US were taken. I guess Colmar is such a rockin' place that every young opera singer is just dying to spend hundreds to go and sing for them. Well, they can rock without me. I'm gonna go put my javelin.
Love,
Kevin
