You could be forgiven for thinking that, because I'm so famous, I get letters from Bette Midler all of the time. This is not true, though. I almost never get letters from Bette Midler. So it was with great excitement that I opened my mailbox yesterday to discover "A Special Invitation from Bette Midler" addressed to me in La Bette's hard-to-reading chicken-scratch handwriting, but you can just about make out my name in the center of the letter. And yes, that text you see down at the bottom left says "Priscilla: Queen of the Desert - The Musical." Could this epistle get any more gay? I was almost afraid to open it, because the contents of a letter like this could very possibly take over your life and demand much more from you than you are willing to give. And it might explode sticky pink cottonball confetti all over your face.
So anyway, what's inside?!
Hmm. Not sure how you take a journey to an adjective. Can you take a trip to tragic? An expedition to insulin-dependent? A sojorn to sloppy? A venture to voracious? Ok, I've just convinced myself you can, because I've done all of these things. But what about this show? Will it burn down the Palace Theater with its flameage? Will it involve high-altitude injuries like Spiderman: Turn Off the Dark? And which drag queen is Bette Midler playing? (Oh, she's just producing.)
I'll totally go to this show if someone buys me a ticket.
