I have a confession...
...It's not that I once peed on Lindsay Lohan's house (I'm not ready to confess that yet).
...Nor is it that I ever pooped my pants (Though, I can confess that my best friends are capable of such accomplishments).
...It's not even that I once told a doctor that my 8-year-old sister had a scorching case of herpes (Haha--that was a good one).
My confession is that before Sunday, I had absolutely no freaking clue what the hell Rocky Horror Picture Show was. I know what you're thinking: Me? The incredibly well versed entertainment enthusiast that I am was ignorant to the most notorious cult classic film in the history of American cinema?! Well I have news for you... NO ONE knows what Rocky Horror is about. Anyone who ever tried to understand the meaning of it was probably too high on their acid trip to create any semblance of thought. Even the weirdos who show up to revival theaters in full costumes with rice and water guns (cough... mom... cough) have no know idea what it's about.
After Jean Machine and I watched it about 85x on repeat this past weekend, I've been able to scrap together the following synopsis (to preface what you're about to read, no, I'm not on crack):
A newly engaged couple stumbles upon the castle/laboratory of Dr. Frankenfurter, a cross-dressing alien scientist from the planet Transexual of the Transylvania galaxy. They witness the unveiling of Frankenfurter's experiment, a sexy piece of man candy he creates using half of a delivery boy's brain. Frankenfurter murders the delivery boy (who miraculously is able to survive with half of a brain) with an ice pick. Then the whole gang, including a zombie handyman, a maid with a frizz problem, and a groupie in serious need of an eyebrow consultation, all has sex with each other and dance around in drag before the traitor aliens zap Frankenfurter with an anti-matter ray and he dies. Then the house blasts back to Transexual, Transylvania so they can do the time warp again. The End.
And people say our generation is fucked... HA.
Moving on, I now feel comfortable reporting on last week's Rocky Horror Glee Show. And what did I think? Bravo, Gleeks, Bravo!
Though Mercedes didn't have to flip the tip in her portrayal of Frankenfurter, the casting seemed to be spot on. Finn and his dumpy abs as Brad? Check. Sam and his chiseled-by-angels abs as Rocky? Check. Artie as Dr. Scott? Umm... duh. Yeah, yeah, all very exciting.
BUT if I'm going to be honest here, nothing thrilled me more than the performance we've all been waiting for... The Glee musical debut of Uncle Jesse. Did you hear me... I said UNCLE JESSE KATSOPOLIS). I knew the Rippers were gonna make a comeback one day. Someone is going to have to institutionalize me if he ever sings "Forever" with New Directions. Hmm... who's got Ryan Murphy's number? I have a proposition for him.
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