What Did You Do With *Your* Old Pasties?
The It's Not Easy Being Green Dancers prepare for their upcoming command performance of Anne Geddes WTF: Geddes Gone Burlesque.
Performance is all about presence...
... and kick-ass costuming.
Dude. You gotta wear the pasties. I have a reputation to uphold.
You're takin' pasties for the team, Frog.
Gimmicky, yes, but it draws the crowds: PussyFrog Doll
I put pasties on my baby.*
I am a Bad Mother. I make no apologies.
(And, yes, I am an abuser of helpless toys. Kermit will doubtlessly require years of therapy to recover from the damage of being coerced into prancing about as a skank ho-phibian. Again, no apologies.)
And. Am hungover. Last night was TO mommyblogger debauchery, and all that buffing and vodka tonic slurping knocked me (already struggling with a cold) on my ass. It was all that I could do today to lift a hungover finger to upload exploitative pictures of my child and her amphibian dance companion.
Full report, with photos, tomorrow on MamaBlogsToronto.
*You asked, Dawn. I delivered.