My girlfriend got me a ticket to the ballet last week. She is at least smart enough to know I am a caveman, so she has to pick one I can sort of relate to, like one about drinking or with rock music instead of classical. There are no ballets involving 30 packs, so I got to go to Dracula. I like Dracula stuff! Yay vampire fighting!
We got off to a bad start because for some reason, Dracula pops out of the casket, scene one – ass naked. I found out later he was wearing a “dance belt”, which is apparently a jock strap, but with less surface area coverage. Not cool, ballet, not cool! I could do a naked ass scene if the money was right, but no one would know my cheeks were uncovered. Thank you recessive ass hair gene!
It was pretty easy to follow, but the moron lady next to me said, “I don’t get it. This is pretty dark.” What? I’m sorry, Dracula is such an obscure story, with the millions of books, dozens of movies and the fact that every Halloween there are Dracula everythings in plain sight. “What’s this Jesus Christ Superstar about? I’ve never heard of him.” Stupid ass lady. She actually walked out. I hope she got attacked by a real vampire on the way home and by vampire I mean bus.
It was good, but I kept thinking of the movie and Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves’ horrible acting. My God, did they actually get paid for that? Anyhoo, I will probably be back sometime, but if I get more male nudity, I am walking. You have been warned, ballet. Me and lady that has never heard of Dracula will be pounding Bud drafts at the bar.