|Do you know this man? Hang on to your hats... you're about to meet him. [source]|
While the Suburban Soliloquist is away negotiating real estate agreements and finance arrangements (yes, she too, nearly forgot about that laborious and evidently not-so-captivating-dot-i-cross-t job where she redlines paragraphs packed with polysyllabic words such as herinafters and notwhithstanding-the-forgoings concurrently with vainly attempting to ward off the one-hundred-thousand-word migraine) she has made very special arrangements for you to see a very rare show in a tiny and somewhat cluttered but acoustically pleasant venue where very exciting things happen on a daily basis (which, to the best of her knowledge, do not include real estate or legal matters, at least—at the very least—not on all-songs-considered day) that sometimes have the effect of giving her...
Are you dressed and ready to go? Well, fine, don't dress. Dress is optional.
Alright then, here are your TICKETS (click, click) for the show. You'll need them to get in. Now go. Seriously, go now. And Enjoy! (Oh, and take a look at the program, too.)
When it's over, please feel free to come back and let the Suburban Soliloquist know what you thought of it. She likes hearing from you.
This is how the Suburban Soliloquist feels about the man in the show:
You can find the man's lastest CD and preview all songs here.
Disclaimer: The Suburban Soliloquist shall not be liable for any claims, accidents, damages or expenses of whatever nature arising directly or indirectly from any accident, injury or damage to any person or persons or property caused, in part or wholly, by swooning audience, nor shall she be responsible for the consequence of any actions--per se, swooning--of those attending the show, nor for disturbing her readers with redundant disclaimers.
(The Suburban Soliloquist likes her blogger job a whole lot better, unfortunately, that gig is pro bono. She will, though, endeavor to keep it.)