Swan Lake – St. Petersburg Ballet


Swans Lakeszsz 

I was ushered to my box and was seated with My Friend With Tits. I’d had two double G&T’s and needed a piss. Just a quick one, I thought, I’ve plenty of ti… the bastard conductor walked on and applause happened. Shit. I was fucked for at least an hour. Then, after a bunch of classical music happened, the curtain went up and a bloke with huge clockweights began to prance about. It was the gayest thing I’ve even seen, gayer than Alan Cumming playing with a ball of wool in a wedding dress.

I’d ended up subjecting myself to this nightmare because of work. A client who I genuinely like ‘kindly’ invited Myfwt and I to see St. Petersburg Ballet doing Swan Lake at the Royal Albert Hall. I was unable to refuse; to decline such an offer in my line of work is akin to a dear little Rhesus Macaque bringing you some bananas and you, in return, pulling its head off and fucking it in its twitching neck. Besides, if Myfwt had discovered I’d refused ballet tickets (especially to such an esteemed company / production / venue) she’d have injected my tits with raw sewage.

Basically, I had to go.

Even the word ‘ballet’ bores me rigid, and the whole Swan Lake thing is as inconsequential to me as a child picking its nose in Moscow. Arseholes. Yet there I was watching people poncing all about with this dreadful twiddlesome cacophony pouring into my brains needing a wee wee. For over an hour I put up with this sheer time wasting nonsense, fighting my eyelids and the desire to pull out my tool and just piss off the side of the balcony.

After what seemed like half a generation, a break happened. I asked Myfwt what the fuck was going on. She told me the story of Swan Lake but I was so bored with it all she may as well been reading the Footsie 100 Share Index in a cardboard jumper. The interval offered me the chance to micturate and drink wines; I had two glasses and two cigarettes and went back to my box a broken man. Happily Myfwt was enjoying the experience immensely so all was not lost.

The middle bit didn’t last as long as the first. Due to partial intoxication and bladder relief it seemed mildly more interesting too, a certain symmetry made itself apparent to me and I started to get what was going on. The next interval involved yet more wine and tabs, and because I knew there was less than 45 minutes to go I was feeling rather cheery when I got back to my seat. By now being pissed and able to focus on proceedings aware that I’d soon be able to go back home I threw myself into the performance and began to actually enjoy the experience. Actually, it rather got to me. The climax built up and the dancing became quite sublime, in parts incredible. Blimey, I was being moved by it, to the point that by the time the curtain went down I noticed my eyes were all wet and shit.

It’s still well gay though.

add to del.icio.us :: Add to Blinkslist :: add to furl :: Digg it :: add to ma.gnolia :: Stumble It! :: add to simpy :: seed the vine :: :: ::

Tags: , , , , , ,

17 Responses to “Swan Lake – St. Petersburg Ballet”

  1. Swineshead Says:

    I was made to go to the ballet once by the missus. Fell asleep ten minutes in, got woken up by the cleaners a few hours later.

  2. piqued Says:

    Did they feel you up, cleaners do that, the cunts

  3. nursemyra Says:

    partial intoxication helps many things

  4. Swineshead Says:

    Nurse Myra – your blog is filthy.
    Piqued – yes. Yes, they did.

  5. piqued Says:

    Nurse Myra, your blog is rather charming, I used to be a nurse don’t you know

    SH. I wished the cleaners had felt up my privates, it’s not fair

  6. Swineshead Says:

    Piqued – you weren’t a qualified nurse though, were you? You were a fucking dogsbody what cleaned up shit, tell the truth!

  7. piqued Says:

    I was telling the truth; I was a nurse

    Yes, my job did involve a bit of botty wiping and underteat cleansing, my qualifications were simple, I cared, yeah.

    I gave a shit, yeah. Muggins over here.

    Hey, if that isn’t good enough then shoot me, yeah. But I did a bloody good job, sir.

    I did a bloody good job

    *fills up*


    *spunks all up the wall*

  8. nursemyra Says:

    please tell me that “filthy” is a compliment?

  9. Swineshead Says:

    Of course it is, like ‘hairy pumpkin’ or ‘smashed up teeth’.

  10. Badger Madge Says:

    *sighs* i remember the days when the WWM guys and gals would casually flirt with me… promising to do me a new logo for my blog, talking to me about scotch eggs…

    but now, i’m kicked to the curb (girlfriend)

  11. Swineshead Says:

    Flirting? There’ll be no flirting on here. Not on my watch.
    Did you want a new banner?
    I’d help but I don’t know how the old blogger works on hosting images. Napoleon might be able to help – though he says he’s up to his anus in work in the run up to christmas (I suspect he is actually masturbating)

  12. Badger Madge Says:

    i think napoleon who promised me he’d do one. but i know he’s rilly busy (and i ain’t payin. maybe in beer one day). it’s ok. i’m kinda used to my shitty stolen tv gif!

  13. piqued Says:

    He’s like that BM, he promises the earth but never delivers. Typical man he is

  14. Badger Madge Says:

    tsk. men… *rolls eyes*

  15. piqued Says:

    *rolls in dogshit*

  16. Rhinoplasty Says:

    I would suggest it better to skip getting under knife so that we can have a safe nose job done.

  17. piqued Says:

    Yes, Rhinoplasty, Mmm (loon)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: