Edited by R.T. Jordan
FINAL CURTAIN, But Darling, I’m Your Auntie Mame!
, etc.

“Scratch an actor …
and you’ll find an actress.”
— Dorothy Parker

For ever and a day we’ve believed in Wile E. Coyote and Pavane for a Dead Princess and Janet Lynn and UFOs and Gautama Buddha, and that the above referenced quote was vintage Parker. The same brilliant smart ass, who, after having an abortion uttered, “How like me, to put all my eggs into one bastard.”

Dorothy Parker

And later, “If all the girls who attended the Yale prom were laid end to end, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised.”

However Parkeresque the actor/actress bon mot sounds, we’ve searched a number of reference sources and the nearest we can come to confirming an attribution is a May 22, 2010 quote by James Woods (he of the apparently false urban legend that ex-gf Sean Young Crazy-Glued his wee-wee to his leg) who observed, “Scratch the surface of any liberal and you’ll find a Fascist.” (Good actor. Certifiable dolt.) But wait. We’ve known the supposed Parker quote since high school when fencing stud Buddy Jennings bullied us outside the theater arts students’ lounge. That was long before Woods purloined it. So we’re thinking it is probably an authentic, though apparently obscure (if not politically and socially inappropriate, but when did being insensitive ever stop BTG from licking such lollipops), line from the queen of quips. Or perhaps from one of the lions at her Round Table.

Since our skeleton and bone-weary staff can’t find the root of that tasty  (and in our opinion as Hollywood types, spot on) quotation, we’ve decided to give up trying (we’re easy) and instead, make it the Jeopardy challenge of the day/week/month. We’re throwing it back to our astute know-it-all readers to slap us with an authentic credit for the line. The first peep to send the correct answer gets a very cool prize. Something related to theater, of course. Tix to a B’way show? Um, are you insane? Have you seen the god damn prices?!

Through the roof!

A date with Harvey Firestein? I think he’s way too busy writing the musical “Newsies.”

Here we go! We’ll offer our fave theater magazine MUSICAL STAGES.

If you’re not already as intimately familiar with this lively, glossy, quarterly as you are with say, your bottle of Grey Goose, we encourage you to check it out. You’ll definitely want to subscribe. Otherwise you’re missing a highly creative and illuminating journal devoted exclusively to contemporary musical theater productions in London, New York and elsewhere around the world.

And thus we effortlessly wander in to a great segue for a full-on wet kiss endorsement of this unique London-based publication. If we sound like the publicist for Musical Stages (and actress ALEXIS IACONO — see below) it’s because at BRUISES THE GIN our  raison d’être is to raise the roof when we find something or someone special on the planet that gives us a larger experience of life, like Tantric energy for sex and self-awareness. Musical Stages magazine and Alexis Iacono are just such a reason to fuss about, and rather loudly.

PLEASE MEET LYNDA TRAPNELL: Owner. Publisher. Editor-in-chief. Writer. Musical Stages magazine.

In 1995, not unlike the enthusiastic shout out, “Let’s put on a show!” in an old Mickey & Judy MGM movie musical, a five-person coalition of theater devotees came together and decided to launch a new magazine. It was to be exclusively dedicated to covering the musical theater scene in London. Alas, like the false fervor for intimacy that goes with the second bottle of Cabernet on an otherwise empty stomach, in the light of dawn, the idea faded to a one-man, or more precisely one-woman, show. With the exception of visionary Lynda Trapnell, the other four in the group turned out to be not quite so eager to spend their time and moolah on a new idea with potentially inauspicious prospects.

Singer, dancer, actor John Barrowman. Photo: Toby Amis


“Three dropped out very quickly,” Lynda Trapnell says in her elegant received English accent. “By the time the fourth member of the original group left, we already had 50 subscribers. I could not let them down, so I became the sole editor/proprietor of Musical Stages.”

Trapnell was, and continues to be, a successful business manager for many of the UK’s most widely known creative artists. However, she had less than zero experience in the publishing world. The old proverb “ignorance is bliss,” was apropos. “But I am a quick learner and soon got to know how it worked. Then I found Mick Sharp, who was fully experienced,” Trapnell explains. “He and I worked together on Musical Stages for the first ten years or so until he became unwell. Howard Sherwood was recommended to me and has proved to be a brilliant replacement. He upped the magazine’s game in terms of style and quality.”

"Shoes" at the Peacock Theatre, London. Photo: Manuel Vason

A unique periodical, Musical Stages is the only publication in Europe that exclusively covers stage musicals. Trapnell  felt that the genre was extensive enough to merit an entire magazine devoted to the art form.

But Trapnell explains that there’s another reason why her magazine concentrates exclusively on musicals. “Straight theater holds no interest for me,” she says candidly. “Especially the serious stuff. There are plenty of pundits out there who can pontificate about the ‘underlying meanings’ and ‘messages’ they perceive in serious theater.  I am quite happy never to see another ‘Hamlet’ or anything by those who go under the collective title of ‘Dreary Vikings.’ I have served my time with them all. Nowadays, I just want to be amused and entertained. The world we live in has plenty of those who flourish on misery. I am not one of them.”

As with nearly all great achievements, Musical Stages began modestly and with a great deal of ’round the clock care and feeding from the unfledged Trapnell. She was jumping into an abyss almost entirely by herself. What had she got herself into? She invested not only a considerable amount of her personal savings to launch this endeavor and to fund it until Musical Stages found its footing, but at the same time she couldn’t neglect her successful business management career. Attending shows, writing reviews, interviewing actors and producers and directors, and editing and proofing copy, selecting art, maintaining the subscription list, selling advertising, and on and on, all this in addition to her so-called “real work,” consumed her life. A tough balancing act even for the most seasoned entrepreneur.

Noted philosopher Dame Muriel Pollia, Ph.D. often observed, “One of man’s  common denominators is that we all have 24 hours a day. How will you use those hours?” Trapnell used every available moment to establish Musical Stages as a legitimate extension to the theater community.


“In the beginning, I had to disabuse a few people of the idea that Musical Stages was some sort of fanzine––a term I found belittling,” Trapnell explains. “Although we set out to promote the genre, it is on a very difference level than that type of magazine. Hence some early criticism.”

As some in America say, “Get over it, Girl!” And indeed the tight-knit theater world eventually embraced Trapnell’s enterprise. Nearly 20 years after the first edition rolled off the press, Musical Stages has become not only an important voice for England’s theater community and audiences alike, but as a communication tool for theater lovers around the globe. “We have subscribers throughout Europe, the USA, Australia, Canada, Japan, China and South Africa,” Trapnell says with deserved pride. However, in bold print and a quarter page notice in each issue she’s quick to upbraid casual readers: “Are you reading a friend’s copy?” Then she graciously but nevertheless unabashedly suggests, “Treat yourself to a subscription …” A rather civil way of braying, “Hey! You, with my fab magazine! If you like us so much, buy your own copy!”

Bernadette Peters

The periodical that Trapnell envisioned and worked diligently to bring to fruition is now the go-to publication for reviews of musicals in the West End and Broadway as well as touring and fringe productions, and cabaret, too. Interviews with some of the most fascinating and talented performers in the world are a mainstay. Going as far back as the very early black and white issues, of Musical Stages Trapnell has fond memories of most of the stars she’s interviewed. “Bernadette Peters and Imelda Staunton both stand out among some of the most interesting,” she says. “Bernadette and I met in a hotel in the West End and I truly enjoyed meeting her. Her constant musical director, Marvin Laird (“Ruthless“), is a close friend and he arranged the meeting. Imelda is my long-standing client under my other hat (business management) and was a joy to talk to. She is immensely talented in so many directions: tragedy, comedy, musicals. She appears in Sweeney Todd this autumn with Michael Ball, another fun one.

“John Barrowman is always good news (Ed. note: BTG pants in come-hither agreement). I have known him for years now and treasure his support of Musical Stages and friendship. The wonderful Chita Rivera was a joy, and a huge help when my little tape recorder gave up and I had to resort to shorthand.”


And then there’s Musical Mole. One of the most popular columns in Musical Stages is written by an anonymous theater aficionado who makes highly caustic and sometimes venomous (but always humorous) remarks about the theater scene as well as odious pronouncements about Trapnell herself (she is ceaselessly referenced as “Harridan”).

Mole is a West End insider who answers questions received by Musical Stages readers and sniffs out the most pungent answers. Mole is a mystery mammal. However, ferrets that we are at BTG, we’re 99% sure of Mole’s true identity. But we’ll slither into our graves with the secret!

Although we suggested that publishing Musical Stages is a one-woman job, Trapnell is the first to give major thanks and commendations to her writers around the globe who contribute to each issue. In America, Ron Cohen serves as the magazines Broadway correspondent. Elsewhere, Michael Tornay, Peter St. James, Barrie Jerram, Nick Wakeham, Lisa Martland, lighting designer Mike Robertson, and actor Tim Flavin also make the job of putting out this glossy quarterly possible.

L-R: Nigel Lindsay, Richard Blackwood, Amanda Holdon. Photo: Helen Maybanks

“As we’ve become an established and respected adjunct to musical theater, Musical Stages has evolved by becoming a bit more ballsy in our reviews and attracting more interesting interviewees,” Trapnell concludes. “We give a balanced and honest appraisal of everything we see — sometimes that’s a little difficult when personal friends are involved whom we like to support.”

Eclectic, comprehensive, diverse, distinctive. The current edition of Musical Stages is representative of Trapnell’s demanding mandate that her magazine both entertain and enlighten all who appreciate musical theater. In addition to listing all of the West End and Broadway musicals and show reviews (many of which are penned by Trapnell herself), this issue includes Trapnell’s interview with composer Charles Miller (Brenda Bly: Teen Detective, No One in the World), Anthony Field’s remembrance of songwriter Dorothy Field, an eye-opening article about the musical satires written by George and Ira Gershwin, and a piece about the Alan Jay Lerner memorial plaque at St. Paul’s Church in Covent Garden. In other words, there’s something for everyone!

We’ll say it again, if you love musicals, you’d be daft not to subscribe to MUSICAL STAGES. Here’s the website:

(Ed. note: Thanks to “Harridan” for a very fun conversation!)


This story gets cracking a couple of years ago. Before a dinner party. With friends who asked if they could bring along an actress visiting from New York. Seems she was in town for some actory thingee. An actress? In Los Angeles? Original. But of course, at BTG we can always make room at the table for new peeps, especially if they’re amusing and talented and like a robust Malbec or a dirty gin martini.


The above referenced actress was Alexis Iacono. We quickly discovered that she’s a strawberry balsamic truffle chased with L’esprit de Courvoisier, Ruinart champagne, wildflower honey, passion fruit, and forest berries all blended into something aromatic to which hummingbirds are also attracted. In other words neat-o, awesome, swell.


BTG continued following Alexis (stalkers that we are), mainly because we’re fascinated by her ambition and self-confidence. Oh, and that important something extra called charisma. Our instincts are almost infallible. For instance, we knew that the push-ups that Jack LaLanne would be doing this year would be daisies. We embraced British singer/songwriter Adele before she became sort of iconic. And it was obvious to us that ABC-TV would haul out its Embryotomy Scissors to abort the unfunny “comedy” Better With You. (Ed. Note: Full disclosure. We erred when we predicted—and begged––for the early demise of Two and a Half Men.) And we also know that Iacono’s star is on the ascendant.

So now’s a great time to get nosy and drain Alexis Iacono’s brain with a bunch of impertinent questions about her life, career, body pillows, preferred brand of dental floss, monkey tattoos, and whatever other tactless and wiseacre thoughts race past our uncensored and lascivious lips.

“ACTING FOUND ME” – Alexis Iacono

 “I was born an actor,” says Iacono, star of director Peilin Kuo’s award winning short Prescott Place. In the flick, Iacono plays the dual roles of facially disfigured film diva Jane Prescott and her look-a-like Baby Doll, both of whom share a creepy and aberrant relationship. “I believe people are born with unique talents, whether it is becoming a doctor, scientist, writer, or scholar. Some people discover their talents later in life. And some people discover their talents very early in life. My scenario was a bit different. Acting found me.”

Growing up in Bayside Queens, Iacono lived on a multicultural neighborhood block where her friends were Greek, Italian, Irish and Asian. “What a glorious melting pot,” she says of the kids with whom she played kick ball in the streets. “Although I was five years old and the only girl in the group, my favorite pastime was sneaking with my friends into this big old house a block away from my home. It was eerie and dilapidated. It was Rudolph Valentino’s home.”

When her family moved to Port Washington, she again had the benefit of interacting with neighbors who were of multiple and exotic ethnicities and cultures. Just the sort of interaction an actor needs. This time, Ghost in the Graveyard was her game of choice. “But my favorite pastime was renting John Cassavetes films,” she says. “That Summer I was traveling to Europe with my Mom. And who was on the plane? John Cassavetes!”

(Ed. Note: Full audio interview about Iacono’s encounter with John Cassavetes called “Cassavetes’ Blessing.”

By the time the family moved to Huntington, New York, Iacono had already been training in dance and acting. “I had found my calling: acting,” she says. “Mom enrolled me at HB Studios in New York City. Trudy Steibl was my teacher,” Iacono remembers. “I loved class. One day Trudy approached me and said there was a play that she felt I would be right for. She told me that Bob Crest was directing and that she’d have him contact me and send over a script. I auditioned for the director and won the role of Elle. The play was called, The Meadowlark. It was the true story of Fay Wray’s childhood.


The next thing I knew, I’m 11 years old and hanging out with Fay Wray, one of the last of the Hollywood greats. Fay and I remained pen pals and I even visited her in Los Angeles. She treated me to the old Hollywood haunts like the famous Musso and Franks restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard. I was in touch with her up until her death. I hope I am making her proud.”

Flash cut to the Here and Now and the all growed up [sic] Iacono is following in a legends footsteps, but making her own tracks. So let’s have a chat and get the dirty low down on what’s up with Alexis. What fun and creative stuff is she doing?


AI: It was a little after midnight and I was on the computer, forever searching for auditions. I came across a legit actors site. And what immediately caught my attention to this different and odd breakdown were descriptive words like “black and white film noir,” “short film,” “fallen star.” I was hooked. I saw that the director, Peilin Kuo, was casting. I hunted down the director’s e-mail address, sent her a message, and within a week, I heard back from her with an audition date. And within two weeks, I got the part. I remember Peilin asking me in the middle of shooting late one night “Alexis, how did I find you again?” I laughed and said, You didn’t find me. I found you.  We exchanged big smiles.


AI: What made me want to work on this project was, I knew Jane Prescott would help me finally get closure to the unanswered question, “Whatever Happened to Baby Jane.” Ever time I watched that movie, and Sunset Boulevard, too, I would ask myself over and over, how did their delusional behavior begin? Were they still pretty when they started to slip? I would look at the television screen in my house and actually yell, “What the HELL happened? Yes, we can blame Hollywood and their ageism BS, but every time I wanted to point the finger at Hollywood, I couldn’t help but put the blame on Norma Desmond and Baby Jane themselves. It was their ego that just simply got in their way. When I got the script for Prescott. I knew this was my chance to explain that these actresses didn’t wake up one morning old and crazy. It took years. I discovered Jane Prescott at that point. She really and truly thinks she’ll have a second shot at her career.  And for me, the one line that Jane says in the film, explains it all: “I almost made it.” As an actress reading that in the script and portraying her, especially in that scene, she simply broke my heart.


AI: Dreams come true. I left the recording studios flying high. I got addicted to the work. I had the opportunity to work with the amazing Lazlow Jones and Dan Hauser. I was only supposed to read off two pages of dialogue for Grand Theft Auto IV, and leave. But the vibe in the room was truly magical. And it felt reciprocated. My two pages lead to three pages and to four and so on. I was reciting very fun cursing lines. I mean, a lot of cursing. Potty mouth! Lazlow then walked into the booth and asked me to read more. But this time I was portraying The Mayor’s Assistant. The Mayor has Tourette’s syndrome. So my character is supposed to always defend him when he starts to curse. Who needs therapy when you have voice over work? I didn’t want to leave the VO booth.  I loved working with them. They gave me experience and opportunity. They opened the doors of courage for me to pursue more voice over work. I’ll always be grateful to Rockstar.


AI: Video game voice over work simply fell into my lap. I wasn’t looking for it.  However, (and this is my dirty little secret), I am a proud gamer. I have my XBox 360 and love my first person shooter games. OK, GTA and WoW are third person shooters, but they are the exception to the rule. Anyway, an acquaintance at the time worked for Rockstar, and one night I got a call from her. She asked me if I would like to do VO work on a video game. I was like, Are you kidding me? YES!


AI: My agent called and said, “You have a video game voice over audition.” I asked what video game? What role? My agent had no idea. Just an FYI, when working on video games, you walk in blind. They tell you nothing up until the day of recording. Because they do not want anything leaked. So I get to the audition, I was given sides and it said in big letters written across the page: SOPRANOS. To myself, I was like, Um; The Sopranos has been over for years. This is odd. The casting director walks out and looks at me and said, “Take a look at these sides instead.”

I look down and it says, Tony Soprano. I was a little confused and said, Um, excuse me, but I’m not, um, a guy. He smiled and said, “Go for it.” I looked over the copy and it clicked, they wanted a true, tough New Yalk accent. And that is what I gave them. I left the audition, feeling good. A long week or so goes by. And my Mom looks at me and asks the usual, “What do you think?” I looked at her and said, Nah. Didn’t get it. Moving on. A week after that conversation, I woke up one morning to my cell phone ringing off the hook, with messages to call my agent ASAP. They said, “You landed the role of the Female Goblin in World of Warcraft Cataclysm!!”  I screamed. After I stopped I said, Wait! I didn’t go up for World of Warcraft! They said, “Yes you did. It was the video game audition two weeks ago.” I hang up the phone and my Mom finds me laying on the floor.


AI: As an actor, I look at a short and a feature like this: Be on time, know your lines rehearse, hone your craft, know your character, and leave. Every project is so different. For Horizon, I worked mostly on weekends. For Prescott Place, I had to be on set at 5:45 p.m. every day for two weeks, and we wrapped at 6 a.m. every morning. I never feel time constraint or pressure on set. I feel that when I am off set.


AI: All anyone has to say to me is, “Oh Alexis! You can’t pull that off!” I will prove them wrong. I am very drawn to odd, gritty, sad, lonely and torn and damaged characters. In some way, I feel by portraying these characters, I can find some atonement for them.


Billy Tipton was a Jazz artist who was born a woman but dressed as a man in the jazz world. No one knew “he” was actually a “she.” His own wives didn’t know! Anyway, I asked my friends if they thought I could pull it off playing and looking like a guy. Everyone had the same answer, “NO!”

Well, that is all I had to hear. That night I brainstormed. Raided my closet, put my coco brown pin stripped suit on, slicked my hair back, listened to some Bessie Smith and just allowed the character to develop on its own. I started pacing the room, did improv, smoked a Cigarillo. After hours of pacing, I wound up discovering a whole other character, not Billy Tipton at all. I fell in love with this new creation. And that is how I created the character, an androgynous recluse who thinks of himself as the late Billy Tipton.

I fell in love with this new character, and yet found great sadness portraying him. I had to tape myself doing this, so I went to my “go to” super talented director friend, Daniel Azarian. I told him a quick version of the story. As always, every time I share my ideas, brainstorms and missions with Daniel, he is always a bit skeptical. We set up, and we discussed the role a bit, and before I knew it, Daniel yelled, action. I did one or two takes of nonstop long improvisations. And that was that. And that is how, my Frankenstein, Full Cut Suits, came to life.

Because we have this pleasant gut feeling about Alexis Iacono, not unlike the vibration one gets fantasizing about being the warm and shiny crucifix against the skin of another particularly seductive human being, we’ll keep you updated now and again about Alexis Iacono. Hell, we discovered Daniel Craig in a little-known British film titled “The Mother” (which the actor has wisely chosen to remove from his IMDB listing). We KNOW we’ve got a winner in Alexis!


BTG has received an overwhelming response to the September 1st edition of BRUISES THE GIN, particularly about R.T. Jordan’s piece about our chum and former completely income tax-paying, hardly any parking tickets, party only on weekends just like everybody else and now homeless in Detroit, Mike. The past two weeks have not gotten any better for our buddy. With his permission, we’re reprinting two of his most recent e-mail messages to us. These were sent from a computer in a library in Michigan. Mike is stuck there, and winter is approaching. We can’t even imagine the emotional panic.

 MIKE: Well, I’ve managed to survive 6 days on a $25 Shell gas card and a $25 McDonald’s gift card.  I’ve been roaming the streets of Trenton, MI with little more than that. I’ve slept in my car 11 nights in a row. The McDonald’s restroom has become my place to get cleaned up. I wash my face, armpits, then feet. I do all of this while hovering over a toilet in a stall.  Then, once I’m clean (for the most part) I set out to pass the rest of the day. I want to be looking for a job. I have to have one. I want one, desperately. But my confidence is shot, and I’m pretty sure the rest of my body still stinks. I think one of my biggest worries is the fact that I have to stay here.

I want to move back to California, obviously, but I’ll have to get a job in order to save the money to do that. And I’ll also need a place to live while I work and save money, because I won’t be allowed to live in a shelter while I’m employed. Which means I’ll have to rent an apartment here, more than likely a one-year lease. I want nothing more that to get in my car and just haul ass away from here, but I’m feeling more and more and day by day that I’m stuck. At least for now.  It is what it is, and if my dad’s words hold any weight, it’s all my fault anyway.  Sure, maybe it’s not forever, but that knowledge doesn’t curb my anxiousness to just run for the hills (the Hollywood Hills!). And the thought of a shelter? Ugh. The word “shelter” conjures up thoughts of warmth and safety and all things good. Aaahhh, shelter. Rarely does it bring up thoughts of the truth: hot, dirty, smelly, cots, crack heads, “LIGHTS OUT!” at 11pm. It’s like checking yourself into prison voluntarily. Not to mention the logistical nightmare of trying to find work while living in a shelter in the Detroit ghetto, because I’d want to work outside of that area, I’d HAVE to work outside that area, but I know it’s at least a 30 minute drive for me, from here, to Detroit. I can’t make that trip back here every day. And there is still the legitimate concern that my car may be stolen, along with everything I own. In short, I’m not just putting off going to a shelter, I’m trying to personally address my own concerns. What about my car? How do I afford to travel outside of the city to look for a job every day?  Or do I just become a shelter dweller? And, lastly, why can’t I just keel over?!?!

Well, I tried to get a “title loan” on my car, it didn’t go through because I live in Michigan and my car is registered in Alabama. I could still get the loan, but I’d have to drive to Alabama to do it. Maybe I could do that, and hopefully get lost in some sort of Southern Bermuda Triangle along the way, maybe get lost in Mississippi. Well, I probably couldn’t get lost in Mississippi because I’m white.

I can’t wait to write my story one day.  In fact, I want to write something now about being homeless in a white bread middle-class community where people take things for granted, and how hard it is to try and appear normal when nobody knows your “secret.”

Of the last 11 nights, I’d spent 7 of them parked on the same street, under a tree.  It was really dark, and the spot seemed perfect.  It was on a cross street that ran between some houses, so I was parked along the sides of the houses, rather than right outside their front doors.  I noticed that every night around 11pm, one of the people would walk their dog down this side street, but on the other side of the street from where my car was parked.  So, I head to the spot last Friday night around 11pm and park just as the guy was walking by.  So, I pretended to get out of the car, but he kept looking back at me until he was out of sight.  So I then got back in the car.  Around 1am, he’s comes walking by again, on the same side of the street as my car, walking right by me as I was sitting there.  I didn’t even see him because he came from behind, over my right shoulder.  As he walked by, he paused and turned and looked back at me.  “Great,” I thought.  “He’ll probably go and call the cops.”  Or maybe not.  Who knew?  Certainly not I.  So I left and just went and sat at Wal-Mart.  Saturday night I began searching for a new spot, but it was hard because all the bar/club traffic was coming home between 11pm – 2am, so I ended up in about 3 different spots, finally settling on the third at around 2:30 am.



Not every edition of BTG is created to conclude with erections lasting more than four hours. Mike’s predicament makes us completely flaccid and zipped up and, alas, sober. However, we’re having an affair with a wanky good new novel, On Wings of Affection, by author George Snyder. Each of us around the office sloppy kissed this literary murder mystery. We now suggest it as an antidote to the acid peal on the heart of reading the above miserable, suck a dick, depressing  story. We’ve been seduced by Mr. Snyder’s writing and are plotting a kidnapping scheme to get him to sit with us for an interview.  More on that in our next edition.

In the meantime, don’t forget the to subscribe to Musical Stages, and to enter to win a subscription!


  1. OMGOSH…PURE BRILLIANCE AS USUAL!!! TY for the wonderful entertainmant=) As far as the authentic credit line…I am sure it was Dorothy Parker.

  2. As far as the authentic credit line…I am sure it was Laurence Olivier.

  3. As far as the authentic credit line…I am sure it was Tallulah Bankhead.

    Okay, so I am just a whore for any possible theatre-related prize and figure one of these sounds correct’;)
    Seriously, incredible work once again!!! WOW!!!

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