On a Serious Note, Theatre

Dream on Life Support

Fuck. All of this.

Oh. It’s one of my least favourite times of the year. The seasons are about to change. I’m bipolar and this kind of thing always messes with my brain. That, and the fact that I’m going nowhere in life. It’s a stagnant well.

All I’ve ever wanted (Please God, is it too much to ask?) was to be an actor.

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Attempts at Inspiration, On a Serious Note, Rambling

Signs of a Struggle

Oh Narcissus…

You know those arty pictures? The ones that aren’t about a pretty model or trying to sell something? They tell a story. Yes, those ones. Anyway… Continue reading

Attempts at Inspiration, Rambling

I’m an Actor Now

So, today I was in one of my “ugh” moods. I was just hanging around and then I decided to do what I do best – stalk people on the internet. I sometimes think that I would have made a great investigative journalist, because I have a way of finding anything on the internet. Some people also attribute this to my harrowing mental illness. Anyway…

I recently was more than fortunate enough to be signed by Viclectic Artist Management. Yes, I know. Even I sometimes forget that I am actually an actor and not just some sad person who talks crap in blog posts. I went onto the website to look at the other people, when suddenly… HOLY SHIT!

Look! It's me. With a mistake in the spelling of my surname, but maybe that's because they decided I needed a stage name.

Look! It’s me. With a mistake in the spelling of my surname, but maybe that’s because they decided I needed a stage name.

Part of my artist bio. Yes, that's right. I'm an artist, bitches.

Part of my artist bio. Yes, that’s right. I’m an artist, bitches.

I mean, I realize that it only makes sense that I would be on the website. That’s kind of why it’s there. But I guess that it just didn’t feel real until I actually saw myself there. Because, you see, simply making it onto the website has been a long difficult journey. Let me take you on it…

In 2013, when I entered my second and final year of drama studies, I fell into a deep depression, as I tend to do. Except, this wasn’t one of those depressions that go away after a few naps. It lasted for months, and I began to fear that I wouldn’t be able to recover from it. I believe I had what they call a sophomore slump, which is totally real because there is a Wikipedia page about it. During my first year of studies, I had an absolute blast. I came to Pretoria from the Free State. I lost 15kg. But most of all, I got to do the one thing that I love most in the world. I got to perform on stage. Coming into the course, many people underestimated me because of my quiet and awkward nature, because people tend to assume that actors have to be bombastic buffoons who talk loud all the time. I was a wallflower, still am, but when I perform I do it with all I have. And then they shut up and listen. I was mostly well received by the people at the college and I finished my first year winning two awards. I had great hopes and dreams for my second year, but in hindsight I had too high expectations. And expectations can kill you.

We started our second year with a children’s theatre production, and although I was initially very excited, it quickly faded. I felt that the role I was casted in wasn’t much of a stretch from the roles I had played in the past. And it didn’t stop there. I ended up being casted in that way many times that year. I was always the ugly one, the old one, or the gay one. It’s not that I don’t mind playing these characters, BUT NOT ALL THE TIME. I started becoming very negative about my future as an actor. I felt like a one trick pony. There are so many stunningly beautiful people in the industry who can sing and dance and do all kinds of wonderful things, and here came I. I’m not pretty. I can’t sing or dance. I can act. And it started to feel like I wasn’t a very versatile actor. My lecturers didn’t really seem to take my predicament or me incredibly seriously. I went from being a relatively strong performer to struggling to keep it together, and no one really seemed to care about trying to help me. It was then that I realized how incredibly alone adult life can be. When you are healthy and successful, people celebrate you and kiss up to you, but the moment you start losing your balance on that tightrope, you won’t find anyone there to catch you when you fall. And when I fell it was a crushing blow. I went from living for rehearsals to dreading them, because I knew that nothing I was doing was going to be good enough. I started going onto stage and hating it, wishing that it would just be over. By the time I reached the middle of my second year I vowed that I would finish my year of studies and bid acting farewell. The love of my life had become a nightmare, and I no longer had any desire to do it. The truth is, I didn’t have any desire to even live anymore.

But obviously things didn’t end that way.

I realized that my depression had reached a point from which I could no longer save myself. I started seeing a therapist who slowly but surely helped me get out of the darkness. By the end of my second year I started feeling like a living person again and I remembered why I love acting so much. I had re-emerged from my darkness, but I was no longer the naive little boy that I was before. I realized that it wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps the depression prepared me for that. Because I knew that getting an agent would be no easy feat. I told myself that I would give myself a year to get an agent after my studies. People always tell you to go and chase your dreams, but once you finish your studies you get thrown to the wolves. Suddenly you have to be an adult an make it work for yourself, even though no one really showed you how.

I started emailing the different acting agencies in hopes of achieving something, but it was mostly in vain. The agencies either didn’t even reply, or they would send me a generic email about how they weren’t signing people at the time. And then they would go off and sign other people who had less experience and references, but had modelling contracts. You see, despite the fact that I was constantly reminded how shit I was in my second year, I still graduated at the top of my class with 10 distinctions and two awards. In my first year we were 14 students. In my second year, we were 7 students, and out of those 7 students, only 3 of us graduated our second year on time. But none of this mattered, because I don’t have a pretty face or a sexy little body.

I decided that I would wait until the annual Krêkvars Arts Festival before I would approach anyone again. I performed in two shows that year and I told myself that it would be my final chance to try and get an agent. I emailed them all again, including an agency that I contacted in the beginning of the year without getting a response, probably because I sent it to an info email address and it probably got lost somewhere. The agency is called Viclectic Artist Management. One of my lecturers had told me before that I would be a good fit for the agency, because “They cater for actors who have a different type of look”. I have a feeling that by “different” he meant ugly, but I looked at the website and I understood why it would work for me. Many of the people signed there aren’t world famous, but they are active in the industry. They are artists, not “celebs”. One of the artists signed there is Weslee Lauder, who is totally still going to do South African Horror Story with me (I’m still waiting for Ryan Murphy). I knew that this would probably be the best fit for me, so I decided to try a different approach. I stalked one of the artists who are signed by the agency on Facebook and got hold of Althea Greenland’s (the owner of the company) personal email address. I sent her my CV with the topic ATTENTION: ALTHEA GREENLAND, because who doesn’t open an email that demands attention? We started corresponding and she wasn’t able to come and watch my shows, but she agreed to meet me. This was a good sign, but I didn’t put my heart on it, because I had met a very reputable agent a few months prior who made me believe that he was going to sign me, but he didn’t. I later on realized that he knew from the moment he first saw me that he wasn’t going to sign me, but he just wanted to mess me around.

On the day I met Althea, I told myself that this would be my ultimate make or break moment. If she wouldn’t take me I probably wouldn’t ever find someone to take me. I arrived at the coffee shop and waited. I was early, as usual, and a friend of mine had to come with me because I didn’t have a license yet and I wasn’t allowed to drive alone. My friend hid in the background, because I didn’t want to look like I needed people to hold my hand in situations like these. I mean, I’m crazy, but not that crazy. When Althea arrived she walked past me where I was hiding my face and thinking she’s going to think I’m an idiot. For a split second I considered just running away, but then I got up and did my best Hi-I’m-a-normal-person-who-would-like-to-join-your-agency impression. She immediately turned around, hugged me, and spoke to me as if she had known me for years. We spoke for about an hour and I was surprised by how incredibly genuine she is. Normally when I speak to people in the industry they make me feel like a complete idiot, but Althea treated me with a respect and compassion that I hadn’t seen before. She agreed to take me on for a trial period and I was in Heaven.

Shortly after our meeting, things took a sudden turn for the worse when my friend Jodie passed away unexpectedly. Her funeral was on the same day as the very first audition that Althea had scheduled for me. The audition would be about an hour after the funeral ended and I would have to drive from Johannesburg to Pretoria. I was perplexed, because I knew that I probably wouldn’t be able to audition after the funeral. I was too broken. I gritted my teeth and contacted Althea to ask if it was possible for me to audition early that morning before any of the other people. She responded by firstly offering her condolences on the passing of my friend and then told me that it was fine. I smiled. And then I went straight into the ugly cry. Because I realized that I finally found someone who cared about more than just the money and the prestige, but also the people.

So, after this lengthy tale, I hope you can understand why finding myself on the website meant so much to me. Because I travelled to Hell and back to get there. And also because I’m from the Free State and we have a tendency of getting super excited about the smallest things.

But most of all…

When I was 13 years old and I told a family member that I wanted to be an actor. He told me that I was too fat, ugly, and untalented and that I should give up before I even tried. To this very day I can’t get over how much that hurt. When I performed at an eisteddfod in high school, the one judge singled me out and tore me to pieces in front of everyone, telling me that I was making a spectacle of myself by dressing up as a woman and going on stage. That I had embarrassed myself.

But by signing me, Althea crushed them.

Take a look at my page on the website!

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Celebrities, Rambling

South African Horror Story: This Needs To Happen

I always love a good TV series. There is nothing better than binge watching a great show with awesome characters and storylines. The only problem is that I don’t have a TV in my flat in Pretoria. I also don’t have unlimited internet access, so I can’t afford to stream the episodes without obliterating my already unstable budget. This means that I have to wait for the seasons to finish broadcasting in America and come out on DVD so that I can rent them from the local DVD shop.

A few weeks ago I made one of my frequent visits to the DVD shop. It has actually become a little embarrassing. The one cashier even knows my number off by heart. But I don’t have friends, so DVD’s, books, and cats are the only company I have. After searching through all the mostly crappy titles, I finally saw what I have been waiting for the past year: American Horror Story: Coven

I am a huge fan of American Horror Story. Up to now, the Asylum season has been my favorite, because I can actually picture myself ending up in one. I don’t know how I’m going to last until the Freak Show comes out on DVD, because I have always had an obsession with the circus.

Anyway, as I lay there relishing the witches and wishing that I could be as talented as Jessica Lange and Kathy Bates, I suddenly had a brilliant idea: WE NEED TO HAVE A SOUTH AFRICAN VERSION OF THIS SHOW!

I already know that I am going to end up on the South African version of Hoarders, but now I can be on two shows. I immediately posted the idea on Twitter and Facebook. My friend, Karen, agreed with me, but when I said that the first season should be called South African Horror Story: Boeremusiek, she went all hater on me and said that it sounded sad. Whatever, Karen. People say that about my life too, and that doesn’t stop me.

My friend Karen. No, she is not normal.

My friend Karen. No, she is not normal.

Someone who did like my Boeremusiek idea was Weslee Lauder, a very talented, very popular South African performer. I haven’t ever met him or seen him perform, but he follows me on Twitter, which mean that his priorities are in order.

"Hey girl! Wanna go kill some people?" Weslee Lauder

“Hey girl! Wanna go kill some people?” Weslee Lauder

Someone else who follows me on Twitter recently said that he would sleep with someone just to play a character that gets killed in AHS. His name is Rikus, and he has a video blog called Hey Rikus on YouTube. Judging from what he does there, I’m pretty sure that he’ll pull some acting off. Plus, he’s cute and funny. And no, I haven’t met him.

Rikus. Isn't he a cutie pie? I miiight have stalked him on Facebook to get this picture.

Rikus. Isn’t he a cutie pie? I miiight have stalked him on Facebook to get this picture.

I haven’t met most of the people I converse with on the internet because I am socially awkward and painfully shy. But, I am a trained actor, so, Ryan Murphy, here is my proposal:

South Africa is a country that hasn’t really explored the horror genre very much, but it really should, because we have some scary shit here. So, pack your troupe of talented actors in a plane and come here! I already have some characters in mind. Zachary Quinto can play my lover and we can go on a murderous rampage through the towns of the Free State. Like a gay version of Bonnie and Clyde. Rikus can be a rent boy that we trap, torture, and eventually kill (you said you wanted to die). Weslee Lauder can be a hard-as-nails cop who follows us on our trail of mass destruction. And he’ll travel on a unicorn, because he’s badass like that. Karen can play a demonic school girl. Jessica Lange can be a sadistic principal (I’m hoping that after hearing about my idea she’ll stay on the show) and Kathy Bates, Frances Conroy and Kathy Bates can play quirky teachers who sell koeksusters. Angela Bassett can play a sangoma who curses everyone. And Pepper can appear in this season too. Simply because everyone loves her. Honestly, I don’t know how all this ties together, but I’m sure that you’ll find a way. As long as I get to kiss Zachary Quinto. A lot.

As an actor I am willing to do almost anything except nudity. But Evan Peters seems to be the go to guy for that. We also have a long list of very beautiful men here in South Africa who can run around naked. Because seemingly it isn’t a Ryan Murphy show before someone gets naked.

Alternatively, you could just go with the cheaper option and fly me to America to be a part of the show.

But just in case you do indeed decide to do a South African version of the show, here are some suggestions (besides Boeremusiek, of course):
South African Horror Story: Parliament
South African Horror Story: Steve Hofmeyr
South African Horror Story: Noot Vir Noot
South African Horror Story: Driver’s License

South African Horror Story: School System
South African Horror Story: Die Antwoord
South African Horror Story: Apartheid
South African Horror Story: Nkandla
South African Horror Story: Skouspel
South African Horror Story: Penis Candles

South African Horror Story: Theatre Etiquette

In celebration of this revolution and my love for both AHS and memes, here are a few pictures and memes of my favorite characters on the show:

Who can forget this glorious moment?

Who can forget this glorious moment?

Yes, Pepper. I will gladly play with you.

Yes, Pepper. I will gladly play with you.

I won't lie, James Cromwell scared the heebie jeebies out of me.

I won’t lie, James Cromwell scared the heebie jeebies out of me.

Myrtle Snow: a class act.

Myrtle Snow: a class act.

Ooooh! Burrrrn!

Ooooh! Burrrrn!

You are! Yes, you are!

You are! Yes, you are!

Hello Doctor. I'm ready for my full body exam.

Hello Doctor. I’m ready for my full body exam.



Poor Lana...

Poor Lana…

You don't need to ask twice.

You don’t need to ask twice.

The Tina Turner of witches.

The Tina Turner of witches.

Sorry isn't good enough!

Sorry isn’t good enough!

I've been told the same, although, not in the same context...

I’ve been told the same, although, not in the same context…

And my personal favorite…



Because This Makes Me ANGRY, Gay Stuff, Theatre

Theatre Etiquette and Why I’m Going to Kill Someone

If you’ve read my blog before (which I’m sure you haven’t), you know that I love theatre. It is my all-consuming passion in life and the reason why I am probably going to die alone and broke. Anyway…

Whenever I’m not performing, I like to go and watch shows. You can read as many text books as you want and go to college for the rest of your life, but I really believe that the best way to learn about writing and performing is to watch how other people do it. Anyway, that’s the excuse I use when my sensible self tells me that I can’t really afford the tickets.

Because most of these large scale theatre productions often cost a shit load of money, I often end up going to watch student productions. It’s kind of like buying things from Mr. Price instead of Edgars. You get the same thing, just for much less money.

I was recently fortunate enough to watch a brilliant student production, “Bent”, presented by the University of Pretoria. I enjoyed the show very much, except for one thing: the audience sucked.

I heard about the play via Facebook when one of the people on my friends list shared the event. Naturally, I wasn’t invited. So I decided to just invite myself. There were just so many reasons to go and watch. I mean, who doesn’t want to watch Martin Sherman’s breakthrough Broadway play about how the Nazi’s tortured the gays? Besides that, the age restriction indicated that there would be sex and nudity. Gay sex, violence, naked men, tragedy, and a DRAG QUEEN? You can’t beat that. I contacted one of my friends and convinced her that we simply had to go.

When I walked into the Lier Theatre I was booming with excitement. The Lier is where I performed as a student for the first time, so it holds a special place in my heart. The seats were already filling up fast (the show was sold out), so we ended up going to the back row. As we sat down I immediately knew I was going to get mad. The people who were sitting next to us were talking loudly, as if they were in a bloody restaurant. After the cell phone announcement was made I thought that they would calm down, but I was so wrong. The play opens with a rather provocative sex scene which takes place with the drag queen singing in the background. And that queen has the voice of an angel. While she was crooning on top of a ladder and the two boys were going at it, I was mesmerized (for various reasons). However, I was also constantly distracted by the fools sitting next to me. They kept talking and making comments. I tried to give them my “you are irritating me” look, but they didn’t even look in my direction. The worst part was the girl sitting next to me. She was on her cell phone the Whole. Fucking. Time. She hardly even paid attention to what was going on in the play. There were a few times when I considered trying to move or asking her to shove the phone up her ass, but I didn’t to cause an even bigger commotion, so I just kept quiet.

Despite all the ruckus, the actors still gave masterful performances and when the first act ended I was really keen to see what was going to happen next. The second act took place in a separate room that was (very impressively) made up to look like a concentration camp. The play continued and it was every bit as brilliant as the first act (Except for the fact that the drag queen doesn’t appear in the second act. That part made me a bit sad). Most of the audience had been drawn in by the story at this point, except for little miss socialite, who was STILL busy with her cell phone. She tried to hide it, but you can’t exactly miss a bright cell phone light in a dark room.

The play reached a climatic point in which one of the guards fires a shot. Now, the people who were actually watching could see that the shot was about to be fired, so we anticipated the sound, but because this girl was looking at her phone and not at the performers, she nearly shat herself and screamed at the top of her lungs. Immediately the tension of the show was broken, because everyone was looking at her instead of what was going on. A few people even started laughing. To be honest, I also wanted to laugh, because I was glad that she embarrassed herself (and her scream was really funny), but at the same time I wanted to get up, grab her hair, and throw her out her out the door. Because I was so angry. It’s already so difficult for theatre productions to get funding and audiences that when someone so disrespectful shows up and ruins the experience for everyone. You could’ve used that money to buy airtime honey, because clearly you have no idea of what happened in the play, so you wasted your money. And you made me angry. REALLY ANGRY.

The theatre is a sacred place. It’s a place where people work very hard for very little money, and we don’t appreciate you fucking up our shows. So stop it. Now.


The Night That Frank-N-Furter Toucha-Toucha-Touched Me (UPDATED)

If there’s one thing that you need to know about me it’s this: I love theatre. In fact, I love all forms of art, but I think that if I had to pick one it would be theatre. I suppose that I feel this way because out of all the art forms in the world, acting is the only one that I have some talent in. I’m by no means the world’s greatest actor, but I can put up a mean show when I want to. This is why I decided to go ahead and study drama for two years. During this time I got introduced to many different forms of theatre, one of them being musical theatre. Growing up in Harrismith, I never really got to see any musicals. Of course I saw movie musicals, but they’re nothing like the real thing. One of the other courses at my college was, of course, musical theatre. Before I came to Pretoria, I didn’t even know that you could study musical theatre on its own. I thought that everything just got thrown together in the drama course. So, when I finally got to see the musical theatre students perform, I was awestruck. I thought that they were incredibly talented and disciplined people. It’s just a pity that many of them were bitchy and didn’t believe in mixing with the common drama folk. But bitches have always been hatin’ on me since the day I was born, so I didn’t care much.

For a very brief period of my second year, my lecturer made me believe that I would be able to play a ‘character part’ in a musical. “Wentzel, you’ll be perfect for these weird characters, like Frank-N-Furter in The Rocky Horror Show.” Of course, hearing this made my little gay heart sing. If there’s one musical theatre role that I’ve always wanted to play, it’s Frank-N-Furter. So, when it came to our musical theatre exam for that year I sang ‘Mister Cellophane’ from Chicago (my other obsession) and of course, no other song than ‘Sweet Transvestite’. I absolutely loved singing and dancing around in knee-highs and a huge drag queen wig. It’s strange, but the weirder I look on stage, the more comfortable I feel.

So yes, of course I almost died when I heard that The Fugard Theatre’s acclaimed production of The Rocky Horror Show was coming to Johannesburg. I absolutely knew that I had to go and see it. It’s the show that everyone is talking about and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. After a few subtle and then not-so-subtle hints, I finally managed to convince my mom that we simply had to go and see the show. When she bought the tickets I was over the moon, because I already knew that it was going to be a night that I would never forget.

On the night when we went to go and see the show, I was almost bursting with antici…pation. Of course, I was also really nervous, because my mom was freaking out behind the steering wheel. But that’s how it normally goes, even when we drive to the shops in Harrismith. She just goes into full freak-out mode. Anyway, we survived the trip and arrived safely at Monte Casino. I had never been there before, so naturally I was walking around and gaping at the place. I was also walking very slowly, because my mother is really short and it’s difficult for her to keep up with my relatively long legs. We were very early, which is normal Lombard behavior, so we walked around and looked at everything. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, it was time to go in.

At first it was all very intimidating. The usherettes – both male and female were prancing around and touching and flashing everyone. I didn’t mind, but I just had this irrational fear that one of them would come up to me. What was making me even more nervous was a lady that was selling stuff. Every few minutes she would loudly shout; “PARTICIPATION PACKS!” without warning. Each time I almost screamed. And yes, I did purchase a partici…pation pack.

Once we got into the theatre we realized that our seats weren’t booked next to each other. Obviously the lady in Checkers had some kind of vendetta against us and decided to put us far away from each other out of pure spitefulness. As I walked to my seat, two of the male usherettes grabbed me and I squealed like a little girl, not knowing what to do. I sat next to an old man who clearly came from the original Rocky Horror generation. He was just that old. I was still staring at everything and everyone around me when suddenly the Narrator (Adrian Galley) walked onto stage. The usherettes started walking towards the stage when one of them stopped in front of an audience member and shouted; “What?! You dirty man!” and proceeded to give the man, who was clearly very shy, a lap dance. At that moment I realized that I had to add giving an audience member a lap dance to my theatrical bucket list.

And then the show started! I was absolutely drawn in from the first moment. The girl who sang “Science Fiction/Double Feature” had an angelic voice. The partici…pation packs made the experience even more fun, especially when we were holding our newspapers over our heads as we were in the rain with Janet and Brad. The rain brought back heartwarming childhood memories of living in dilapidated houses with leaking roofs. I was absolutely swept away by the cast’s talent. Adrian Galley is a very charming and witty Narrator. Paul du Toit and Sharon Spiegel-Wagner make a very sweet couple as the wholesome Brad and Janet. After seeing him in film and television, I was really surprised at du Toit’s versatility and vocal abilities. But the party really started when Riff Raff (Andrew Laubscher) first appeared through the window of the castle. Within his tiny frame, Laubscher holds a very powerful voice and his version of the iconic hunchback character is every bit as brilliant as Richard O’Brien’s. He and Daneel van der Walt (Magenta) make a formidable team and they absolutely rocked the Time Warp. Shaun Smit’s (Rocky) body is enough to send anyone into a body dysmorphia. He gave a very sweet, innocent feeling to the character. The cutest character is undeniably Columbia (Dominique Maher) with her never-ending energy. When Maher first stepped onto stage I was certain that she would burn out, but she just kept going. She has more energy than an ecstasy addict.

But, of course, the great moment that completely blew me away was when Frank-N-Furter made his entrance with ‘Sweet Transvestite’. All at once I almost started crying like an idiot. Not only because Brendan van Rhyn was crushing my musical theatre dreams with every stomp of his six inch heels, but mostly because I have never seen someone so talented on stage before. You need to understand that I am probably the world’s biggest Tim Curry fan, but I don’t know if he was ever capable of doing what van Rhyn does. He is brilliant on every level – acting, dancing and singing (wow, his voice is amazing!). On top of this, he is phenomenal at ad-libbing, often cutting audience members that were shouting comments down to size with his razor-sharp tongue.

When the show was over, I was a cocktail of emotions. You see, I can’t just enjoy a show like other normal people. I analyze it deeply and appreciate everything that everyone does, because I know how difficult it can be. Many of the reviews never mention the ensemble cast, and even they were great. They moved like a unit, and trust me, that’s a really difficult thing to do.

When we got outside, everyone was crowding around Brendan, who was taking pictures with audience members. I had brought my camera with for this purpose, but I was suddenly hesitant, because I didn’t know what I would say to him. He had such a huge presence that it was overwhelming. On top of that I remembered all the nasty dance and musical theatre students from my college days and I thought that surely someone so talented would be like that too. Fortunately my mom insisted that I take a picture with him, so we moved into the crowd. Being the socially awkward person that I am, I waited until there was almost no one else left before I stepped forward. I didn’t know what to say, because I was really shy, so I just smiled and said “Hi!” in my girly squeal voice. I’m quite tall, so it’s not often that I meet someone taller than me, but Brendan is a lot taller and bigger than I am. He simply smiled and said “Hi.” in his deep voice. He posed with me as my mom stood on her tip-toes to get the camera high enough to take the picture. He was as warm and friendly as could be and I realized that with people like him around we still have hope in this world.

I didn’t write this blog entry to serve as a review at all. I don’t have nearly enough knowledge or experience to be a critic. I wrote it because I wanted to share with everyone one of the greatest, most inspiring nights of my life. I might not be able to sing and dance like the Rocky Horror cast, but I can still act, and this show inspired me to do it to the best of my ability.

No, I didn’t post the picture that I took with Brendan, because I look hideous in it. I intend on going again when the show returns to Joburg and then I’ll try and look better. If you know Brendan, please let him read this. Not that he’ll know who I am, but I just want him to know how big his impact is.


So, for my 23rd birthday on 27 December 2014, my mom decided to surprise me with tickets to the show. I got to go again and it was wonderful! I thought about writing a new blog post, but I’m scared that they would think I’m a stalker, so instead I decided to just update this one. I did, however, invite Brendan on Facebook, which I guess can also classify as stalkerish because I don’t really know him. Anyway, this time I didn’t look as bad on the pictures (except for the fact that my mom had no clue of how the cell phone’s camera works, and had to ask a complete stranger to take the picture).

I look slightly creepy, but here I am with Brendan!

I look slightly creepy, but here I am with Brendan!

It's blurry ,(because my mom took the picture) but   HE HUGGED ME, YOU GUYS! Best birthday ever.

It’s blurry ,(because my mom took the picture) but HE HUGGED ME, YOU GUYS! Best birthday ever.

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