Vorspeisenplatte

…, dass in Manhattan einfach ALLE schreiben können, als wären sie Dialog-Autoren für Friends?

To start with, I have a slight conceptual problem with ballet. It’s dancing, Jim, but not as we know it. I don’t dance like that, and nor does anyone else I know. When I’ve had a few drinks, I get up and shuffle around in a vaguely rhythmic fashion. When I’ve had a few more, I think I’m one of those slappers from the Human League, circa 1984. But however drunk I am, I don’t go up on pointe or request to be carried around the room with my legs wide open and my arms in an arabesque.

Eurotrash erzählt von einem Ballett-Abend im Lincoln Centre.

Gefunden habe ich die Dame, als ich die Geschichten der jüngsten WYSIWYG Talent Show nachlesen wollte.