Last Night I had the honor of attending Oscar Wilde and the Men of the Hour. Truly one of the greatest plays of our lifetime. Let the website description tell you about it:
"Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemmingway, George Elliot and Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche, Separately, they are merely four individual superheroes. But bring them together and they become THE MEN OF THE HOUR, a heroic gathering of the hunkiest, fistiest, shooty-gunniest writers in the history of paper! Casting fear into the hearts of Nazis, fairies,Bogwomen and literary critics across the known Multiverse, and famous for their Mexican Luchador-themed dinner parties! If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, and if you’re sexy enough, and if you can afford them, and if their phones are turned on, maybe you can hire ...The Men of the Hour. Provided they’re not too drunk or anything."
No time traveling Nazi or fascist zombie was safe from their might and I had a good night too. God Bless Men of the Hour wherever and whenever they're getting pissed at right now.
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