Ron Popeil presents “Waiting for Godot”February 10, 2007
We can’t afford to see Cirque de Soleil. All we can afford is Cirque de Puree.
There’s this guy in an shiny electric blue suit with a taxidermy monkey on his shoulder. And all he does is throw things into one of those Ronco Juicers. Like meat. And jewelry. And dice.
All the while there’s this feral-looking woman behind him howling at the moon. She shuts up when she drinks a glass full of ground-up dice meat. Not diced meat. Meat with dice chunks in it. Sometimes she’ll soil herself in front of everyone.
If you ask the guy if he’s Ron Popeil, he throws a Dixie cup full of thumbtacks in your face. Then he marries you to the feral woman, and forces you to consumate the marriage right there on stage.
There might be some ferrets that get dunked in paint and thrown against a canvas, but I’ve heard that’s only for the nighttime shows.
We keep paying to see it, because we think that with each visit we think that this will be the time we finally understand what the hell is going on. And everytime we leave, more confused than before.