As proud as I am about my work ethic, every now and then I feel like it’s time to start living like Michael Madsen in Kill Bill: liquor, trailer, desert, lethal skills, singular mission, boots, nothing to lose.But until then, I walk the straight and narrow. Which is why, after my class last week, I went over to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater and watched two improv troupes go at it on cage-match night. It works thusly: a team asks for a word from the audience as a jumping off point, and then has twenty minutes to improvise sketch after sketch until the clock runs out. Then the second team hits the stage and does likewise. The audience votes on a winner, which last week (and for the tenth week in a row) was the group Booberry Canadian Holocaust, who beat out a team of women that call themselves Michael Clarke Duncan.
I’m finding myself growingly more addicted to this improv stuff. I’m not sure what the end result of all the classes and exercises may be, but I kinda hope I get multiple personalities – I get really lonely in long showers.
