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You embarrassed me, and I don't think you considered Jackie's feelings, either. amateur links Real amateurs. " Ryan's gaze shot nervously over to Jackie, who just sat there and shrugged. "We're spending a few more days together," I said, nearing the home stretch, "I want them to be pleasant. I will cut back if you will. amateur links Amateur wrestling pictures. " "Okay," he said. "Okay," I said, and let out a huge breath. "Now, who knows what we're going to see tonight?" *** We saw "Lepers" at the Strawdog Theatre. amateur links Amateur links. I was completely stunned. Our last excursion to Chicago included a viewing of "Cannibal Cheerleaders on Crack" which is one of those ridiculously (some might say deliciously) horrible plays held in claustrophobic and poorly lit spaces featuring a variety of vulgar and horrifying situations and I believe the most bodily fluids ever to come together in one show. The only thing they didn't spray at the crowd was menstrual blood. Thank heaven for small favors. The blurb for "Lepers" warned of nudity and adult situations, and I feared the same kind of attempted assault on the senses -- cutting edge these days requires a parade of oddly shaped people screaming at each other, on-stage, naked. No point, no talent, just pubic hair and breasts, flopping about and calling itself art. But the write-ups were good, and the price was even better, and the Strawdog has a very good reputation (Wilson had done a show there). It was brilliant. An intimate, well-maintained house (eighty seatsperhaps?) a six member cast (three of each) and the first brief segments ofthe show featured, scene by scene, each initial pairing of couples in bed,and highlighting for all of us in witness their sexual hang-ups in detail. The performances were honest and the writing was realistic but carefullystylized -- repetition of catch phrases ("Is it me?" a man's line, meant toget some kind of personal validation just after "failing to perform" asthey say, and one uniquely pathetic expression of impotent hopefulness; "Ican do it now! I'm hard, well. . . firm. ") and one particularly hystericalscene involving the most narcissistic man in the world, under a sheet, byhimself, talking, bragging, urging himself through what must have been thesingle most protracted and enjoyable masturbation in recorded time. They were all completely nude (as opposed to "nude", which means the same thing) lying beneath and slipping out from under one sheet, but they were not self-conscious at all, the way most nude performances can be ("Hey, I'm nude now! This is the nude bit you read about in 'The Reader'!") and we all became very familiar very soon with every small mole, interesting tattoo, width of nipples, those who were circumcised and who weren't, and soon enough we didn't care. They were supposed to be in bed, fucking, or at least trying to, wouldn't it seem silly if one guy hopped out of the sack and was in his boxers? And, a few scenes in, when they all sat around for a dinner party, fully clothed, acting like normal, nervous people at a dinner party, that's when the show really started to take shape.
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