I’m just your good old fashioned regular whore. But for five bucks I’ll don a black headband and some tight pants with the patented 12 inch cock bulge and dance for you. For a dollar more I’ll throw in a fake Irish accent.
I still like the spot that Conan O’Brien did a few years ago where he was reading letters of apology the show had “written” to various guests. One acknowledged that Mr. Flatley’s preferred nickname was “Lord of the Dance”, and not (as the show had been erroneously informed) “Swishy McJackass.” They extended their sincerest apologies.
I hate Michael Flatley as much as everyone else. But Irish Dancing really is something that should be commended. I was an Irish dancer for only 2 years (I regret quitting). An hour and a half of dance class left me more sore and tired than any cross country practice I’ve ever had. Ever. Also, ballet dancers get all the credit for going up on their toes. Irish dancers go up on their tippy tippy toes and they don’t get the luxury of an effin wooden block in their shoes. I could go on but I’ll spare you…
However, “Riverdance” is a good show because it doesn’t have the dickhead in it.
I enjoy watching Irish stepdancing, with or without Flatley. Without him, I’ll enjoy the dancing. If he’s performing, then it’ll annoy the hell out of my husband. Either way, I win.
Incidentally, Flatheads are, or were, the ruling family of the Great Underground Empire. The most notable was Lord Dimwit Flathead the Excessive.
Why yes, Smeghead, I DO keep a trusty lamp and a sword of antique Elven workmanship handy at all times. You never know when you’re gonna run into a grue.
Heh. Michael Flatley: Fleet of Fame. Or so we can only hope.
I’ve seen the first two shows but not FoF, and apparently haven’t missed anything.
Riverdance was kind of cool – it was new, it was different, it was flashy, it featured a lot of cool moves we hadn’t seen before, plus lots of extremely talented dancers. And Michael Flatley.
Lord of the Dance: Michael Flatley gets kicked out of Riverdance and starts up another show which looks suspiciously familiar. Not new, not different, same moves, still flashy, lots of talented dancers. And Michael Flatley.
Feet of Flames: “<whining>But…but I’m Michael Flatley! The Lord of the Dance! You have to love me! Please?”…
Oh, just the person I’m looking for. I found this exquisite jewelled, hinged egg. I’d like to open it, but I have neither the tools nor the expertise. Here, why don’t YOU take it?