Only good cat is a flat cat. shame cars weren’t allowed to drive across the stage during this awful performance and free the audience.
The cats name themselves (per first song in the musical), so they name their own society, too …just like we arbitrarilly call ourselves “human beings”.
I’m seeing this on Sunday. In Newark. Fuck yeah.
1.) You clearly have no idea what you’re talking about, or what my argument was in the first place.
2.) I direct/write my own material. Which means I can play the lead whenever the HELL I WANT.
3.) I’ve wasted too much of my precious time on this ridiculous farce. I was hoping to get some intelligent responses, maybe a little smart debate on the subject of feminism but people keep throwing me small minded comments. Arguing about things they don’t understand.
Good luck trying that in person.
Every night once a year, a special group of cats known as the Jellicles, gather to celebrate the rebith of one of there own in a metaphorical junk yard. To become a Jellicle, a cat must prove they are worthy of the name Jellicle. they must become famous for doing a task that is very creative and/or dangerous, or be born to the parents of two Jellicles (ex. Munkustrap is the son of Deuteronomy, so he was allowed in, but skimbleshanks works on a train. i mean seriously, thats awesome.)
has anybody noticed Rum Tum Tugger doesn’t have his mane or anything distinguising on?
