Webmaster's Report

Now that the October run of the Real Dream Cabaret is over, I've had some time to analyze the demographic data from our website tracking software. Here are a few excerpts from the complete report.

Search Query Report (the words people used to Google us)

1. Kitty Jung (3)
2. Realdreamcabaret.com (3)
3. Real Dream Cabaret (3)
4. Jeannine Giffear (2)
5. Brian Milbrand (2)
6. Milbrand Real Dream Cabaret (1)
7. Julie Perini (1)
8. Kendell Kelly (1)
9. Anna Chiaretta Buffalo (1)
10. Cabaret Scripts (1)
11. Real Dream Cabaret Buffalo October (1)
12. Aimee Goldberg 2004 (1)
13. Greg Kempf (1)
14. Brian Lampkin (1)
15. Kitty Jung Home (1)
16. Aimee Goldberg Johnny (1)
17. Peggy Shaw Scientology(1)
18. Anna Chiaretta (1)
19. Rust Belt Books Wittgenstein (1)
20. Ric Royer (1)

Webmaster's Note: Look guys, I don't mind coming in behind Kitty or Jeannine or Brian or even non-Cabaret folks like Kendell Kelly and Julie Perini. But I have to say that coming in behind "Peggy Shaw Scientology" rankles.

Days Ranked by Number of Webpage Hits

1. Wednesday (187)
2. Tuesday (176)
3. Monday (159)
4. Friday (146)
5. Thursday (141)
6. Saturday (123)
7. Sunday (95)

Busiest Hour of the Day

1. 4:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.

Work Day Traffic Expressed as Percentage of the Total

1. 42.5%

Jimmy Hoffa

I would sincerely like to thank the Cabaret audience for finding me. Those three minutes where I was finally found were the most exciting moments of my life. Sadly, though, I am lost again. After leaving the Cabaret that night, I was suddenly enveloped in a dense fog, and when the fog cleared, I found myself in a lush, dense forest. Right now, I'm hiding under a rock which mysteriously has an internet connection. If you wouldn't mind, the next time you see a rock, look under it and you may find me.

Thanks,
Jimmy

Frosty the Snowman

I just wanted to let everyone know of my progress in my annual migration south from the North Pole. I just finally arrived in Buffalo, NY today, following the trail of a small flurry. Buffalo truly is my favorite vacation spot. Between November and March, there is never a shortage of food (snow to you humans), and there are plenty of luscious ladies for me to swing with.

I do have one favor to ask of all Buffalonians, though. I would be very grateful if everyone wouldn't drive for the entire winter. You see, the dirt and black sludge your modes of transportation emit onto the ground become unsightly messes on my outfit, and the ladies never go for an untidy snowman. You'd really be helping me out if you just walked, biked or took the subway for the entire winter. Then, when the snow melts, and I skip town, you can go back to driving your filthy vehicles.

One other note... if Rime the Snowman comes looking for me, I'm not in town.

Frosty

Sigmund the Sad

Election Day was quite a sad day for me. First the "real" magician, Todd Nelson forced me off stage, after I accidentally pulled the handle off his sword, leaving the sword lodged in Security Mom's neck. Then, Bush was re-elected.

I've been asking myself over and over how this could happen, and then I realized that Bush is in with some really dark powers. During my stay in the Underworld, where I trained with the Devil himself, I met some other magicians who were training for more dastardly deeds than simply being able to tell someone psychically which card they selected. Dick the Dastardly, Colin the Cancerous and Donald the Distasteful were training their magical powers so they could fix the election for George W. Bush.

So now I have a magical answer for everyone who would like to reverse the decision reached through underhanded use of magical powers. Through my training with Satan, I have found out that you can truly make people disappear at will, never to return to the face of the earth. Of course, there are a lot of people we will need to make disappear before we will get to a leader worth leading, but if everyone concentrates on George W. disappearing into thin air at midnight every night for the next month, at the end of the month he will evaporate, never to be seen again. We'll need a lot of mental power to make this work, so tell all of your friends and enemies to join in the fight, and we'll never have to hear the words Mission Accomplished, No Child Left Behind or Anti-Abortion again.

Sigmund the Sad

Ronawanda

People who weren't there keep askin' how our Election Night show went, and hell, y'all, what can I say? It was what it was. Great dream, bad reality. Started like a party, ended like a wake (complete with fanTAStic music from our house band, the Dixieland Grifters, who played us out with a nice little jazz funeral music for cryin' and dancin'). We laughed and we cried and we did the only thing we could do under the circumstances: we joined together with our friends and put on a HELL of a show. I can't IMAGINE bein' anywhere else that night, that's fer sure. Thank you, Raging Grannies, Steve Kurtz, David Butler, Jody Lafond, Todd Nelson, Jan Nagle, and Ted Pelton, for sharin' our teensy tiny stage with us, too!

Bear in mind, I'm just a fictional character and I only exist onstage and in these words here, but fer GAWD's sake, I gotta live through all this just like the rest of y'all! During the show itself all I could really think about was what I was gonna wear next (didn't count the costume changes but I think it was a personal record), but lemme tell you the full shock of the election hit home the next morning, along with a killer hangover. (I never touch a drop during shows, but our dear friend The Wine Guy was in the audience Tuesday, and as soon as the performance ended--around 2 or 2:30 AM?--the vino started flowin' inta my veins.)

Mah honey said when it was all over that the next run of Cabaret shows will have to be in Canada cuz we won't be allowed to play in Bush's America anymore. The hell we won't! I talk a lot about movin' out of the country, but that would just be letting the REAL terrorists (the ones with "Four More Years" stickers on their fuckin' SUVs) win. As long as I have any say in the matter, my ass is stayin' put. I'll be DAMNED if I'll let my country fall into the hands of jackasses. (You might think it's there now, but as long as we're so goddammed "divided" as a nation, there's still a shitload of us who DO NOT AGREE with the powers that be.)

On to brighter pastures: now that our month of shows is over, we're plannin' what to do next. So lemme throw it out there to alla y'all who come to our shows and read our funkyass blog... Want some say in our future? You might not feel like you have a say in your COUNTRY's future lately, but WE wanna hear what you think about what our little gang of make-believers has done so far and where we oughta go next. (Fer instance: Are you one of those people who want to see us set up in a bigger establishment, or do you like the funky 30-seat AHMbiAHNCE of our Rust Belt home? Is it important to you that our show change 100% every 2 performances, or do you care? Are there topics or themes you wanna see us take on? And so on.) Tell us anything that's on yer mind. And even if you don't have nuthin' to say about our cabaret, feel free to vent about the fucked-up decision our nation just made, too. Whatever floats yer boat or sinks the status quo's. Spill it! Puhllllleeeeeease! This space is YER space...

DJ (Demon Jacob)

Why Not Guy, you will rue the day you fucked with a demon. I swear, I will have your head on a platter with a side of deviled eggs and swiss cheese. You haven't seen the last of me.

DJ

Claire

I AM SO FREAKED OUT!

There doesn't seem to be any grey zones any more. My dreams are either the most fantastical, etherial dreams about flying and having sex with Johnny Knoxville at the same time, or they're the most horrifying visions I have ever had. Just last night, I had this nightmare about Clarivan, this new laundry detergent which was also a concentrated beverage. It turned out, however, that the United States government were actually packaging it to sell to poor people to kill them so that there would be less people to drain Social Security resources. I know I have been known to have clairevoyant dreams, but if anything of this nature happens, well, I'm just going to have to stop living in my dream world and do something about it.

Love and kisses,
Claire

Frosty the Snowman

I will be unable to attend this week's Cabaret, due to the fact that it sounds quite hellish.

Best Regards,

Frosty

Nick the Nose

This is the last time I'll be contacting you before drastic measures are required. We have tried to work with you to return the money Mr. Brian stole from us last year, but have met with repeated excuses. If we don't recieve payment by Friday, we'll hit you where it hurts. Everywhere it hurts.

Nick the Nose

North Ronawanda

This is just a letter to call off my truce with my sister Ronawanda. I thought we had worked things out, after she tried to kill me and all, and I thought her invitation to rejoin the Cabaret was sincere. Instead she gave me some insane map, which led me to a very weird maze on an island, and suddenly I was being chased by some half-bull half-human creature, probably made by that creep Dr. Milbrando. Well, you can just go to hell Ronawanda.

Love,
Your Sister
North Ronawanda

Cha-ka

me mundi ane yeni erokani.
yeni beni doma.
yeni beni anuanu.
me tesa. me tesa tesa!
me anu aboba.
me huma!

Claire

I would really like to thank the Real Dream Cabaret for helping me find my baby, despite the nasty nipple biter that she is. If it weren't for the help of your audience, my baby may have been trapped underneath that table for an eternity, or at least until she starved to death.

I've never been to the Cabaret before, but it seems as if you have quite an odd show. It was exactly like I dreamed it would be. In fact that reminds me of a dream that I had last night where I got on this bus to leave Buffalo with this large group of very old people. It was around 11 o'clock, and I had no idea where we were going, but I was by far the youngest person on the bus. As the bus approached the intersection of Delevan and Main, we had a terrible accident and were flipped over on our side. I was the only person who was still conscious after the accident, so I crawled out the side of the bus (which was now the top), and went looking for help. I stumbled onto the Canisus College campus, and went to a building I believe to be their student union, though I've never been inside of the building in my entire life. I approached the door, and heard some sort of chanting. After I knocked, a woman in a brown monk robe answered the door, and at that moment I realized that she was Satan and I was God, and that we were about to have a fight over the souls of the world. I looked in my purse and found the handle of a sword which had been broken off, and only an inch of the blade remained, but I knew that this was the only sword that could kill Satan. We had a huge fight, which lasted for hours, until I had her pinned down on a bed, and began repeatedly cutting her with the inch of the sword that remained. As I stabbed her she began to shrink, until she was the size of a pinky finger, and I locked her in a very small box and put her in my pocket. I was so exhausted after the fight, and all I could think about was getting something to eat. I stumbled through the pale blue glow of early morning into a diner across the street and ordered one fried egg and a piece of onion toast.

Well, I think that's about all for me. Thanks again.

Piaget the Mute Swine

My human colleagues in the RDC are a fickle lot. Last week (when the theme was "The Islands") I was the debutante, receiving critical hosannas for my career-defining role in "The Island of Dr. Milbrando" and praised by the cast for saving the show from the brink of disaster. I was even awarded a special hanger backstage, so that I may appear at any time my human friends need salvation--which seems to be mighty often, if you ask me.

That was then. This is now: Friday night (opening night of "Land of the Lost") I hung on my hanger, muter than ever, with no part whatsoever in the script. Is this the thanks I get??? Meanwhile, the new girl--the two-and-a-half-foot Barbie doll who looks like she stumbled in from a dumpster behind Toys R Us (talk about an airhead!)--is cast as Cha-Ka, lead resident of the jungle kingdom.

A lesser swine would have complained about this diminutive hussy's obvious "All About Eve" turn. (Last week the little bimbo was my understudy, damnit.) But no. I hung there, voluntarily keeping silent, until I could stand it no longer. During the ensuing musical performance by Bob's Power Crystals, I joined Cha-Ka and Dopey the Dinosaur for a spontaneous (if wordless) choral cameo.

Saturday night, my impromptu appearance was more prominently featured and I gave myself a larger part in the jungle scene (even as Mini-Barbie's role expanded to elephantine proportions). But for god's sake, my true talent remains untapped. What will it take for the humans to recognize my potential? Am I just yesterday's news? The Fiona Apple of the cabaret orchard?

Not if I have anything to do with it, that's for damn sure.

--PTMS

North Ronawanda

I must say that this weekend was one of the most exciting weekends I've had in a long time, or at least since I was locked away on Riker's Island by my evil twin sister Ronawanda. I had so many visitors to my Island this weekend, and I would really like to thank all those special visitors, especially Martha Stewart & Ronawanda. I think in the end things are starting to work out with Ronawanda and I. Perhaps Ronawanda will finally let bygones be bygones and discontinue presenting me as her evil twin sister, when she was the evil wench who stole the Cabaret from me in the first place...

But I digress...

I'm hoping that Ronawanda will come to my probation sentencing this week, and speak on my behalf so that I will finally be free as a bird. Maybe I'll even be able to make it to the Cabaret this week, though I'll probably get lost on the way. Who knows. Well, sis, I hope you'll be able to make it. I promise I won't try to kill you or stop time again.

Love and kisses,
N. Ronawanda

Real Dream Cabaret Anagrams

THE REAL DREAM CABARET
debate the arrear clam
theater caramel bread
a three-bracelet drama
bathe, cremate a larder
a charmed rebate later
create bad leather arm
lacerated mare breath
a latter-eared chamber
retrace a lamb heart
trachea a-tremble dare
embrace related art - ha!
amber cadet rear lathe
rather a bleated cream
ace rare tablet harmed
breathe malta re: cedar
dear, ramble at hectare
embrace da heart later
halt ember carat creed
archer made at a belter
heard a battle creamer
a heat caterer rambled
matter breach a dealer
belate radar theme car
thermal debt care area
demarcate blather tear
aha! cratered balm tree
tamer cable, harder tea

RONAWANDA ran on a wad
SIGMUND THE SUFFICIENT cuffing his united stem
JACK PAPIER pick pea jar
LIEULIEU DEAUXFLEUR i.e. lux flu due rue ail
KITTY JUNG gitt junky
DONNA CHIARA ion and car... ha!
STAGE MASTER great steams
STAGE BOY bye, goats
DORA road
COMRADE LAMPKIN mocked plain ram
THE WHY (NOT!) GUY hey towny! (thug)
BLEWYN BLACK yank well, BBC
PIAGET THE MUTE SWINE eat thumping sweetie

Dr. Milbrand

I'm just writing to invite the Cabaret and their faithful audience to join me on the Island I recently purchased in the Carribean. The island is beautiful, full of lush vegetation and the most unusual and slightly frightening creatures. I'm continuing my research on the island, as I've been exiled from the United States due to Bush's laws against Stem Cell Research and cloning. I'm hoping that once we get a new president I'll be allowed to perform my research legitamately. My work is important to me, and my findings, rather than being shunned, should be looked upon as a bold breakthrough in finding the divide between man and animal. Here's hoping that I'll have plenty of victims... I mean visitors this weekend.

Sincerely,
Dr. Milbrand

Ronawanda

So?????? What did y'all think about Opening Night? (Y'all = both audience and performers alike.) Do tell.

Ronawanda

Can y'all believe it? The doors open for our first show of the new season in EIGHTEEN HOURS! Just got home from a rehearsal that started at 8 PM and ended at 2 AM, and I have ten costume changes to figure out plus a tape to make for the Borderlands. Plus my current day job, slinging hash at the Waffle House and singin' torch songs to the customers. Bizzy, bizzy, bizzy.

Some of our guest artists dropped by tonight, like Miss Heather from Bossa Womba Loca, and Mr. Tony Conrad, and Mr. Kendall. Very exciting. Plus we had a little stopby from Miss Bonita Z, who will once again be doing dream interpretation in the Borderlands before the show and during intermission (but maybe only for the first weekend, unfortunately).

I would say I cain't wait for showtime, but between you and me, I definitely CAN wait. Eighteen hours, at least.

Ronawanda

Y'all, the October DREAM is rapidly becoming a REALITY. The press releases have gone out, the tickets are waiting for people to buy at Rust Belt Books, the posters are about to pop up all over town, the lasers and fog machines are being tested, the antelope costumes are being FedExed to us... All that's left is to write the show!

This time next Friday, we'll all be frantically lighting candles on cabaret tables, putting on our makeup, sweeping the floor, and rehearsing our opening night gala for the very first time.

I'm jokin' about that last part, but not entirely. But we DID just have our first meeting with some our house bands and guest artists last Thursday, and that's always my favorite part of the whole thing (other than doing the show itself, and falling backwards into a pool of my own sick at Saturday night's afterparty). Our dear friend Christina Kaulbach (whom you might remember from our days with the Cabaret Parasito) dropped by; she'll be performing on Oct. 9. And some of the surfer dudes and dudettes from Dimetrodon, who will be our house band the following weekend (after rocking that very same house to the ground last February), were there with their surfboards and woodies. (Oh, no, that was US with the woodies.) We got a sneak peek at Kalifornia Kim & The Transsexual Experience, who are also playing Oct. 15 & 16, and we met Kate Anderson, who is brand new to town and ready to unleash some kickass standup on y'all on the weekend of Oct. 29 & 30. And naturally our very own Dora was there representing her OTHER very best friends, the band Readybox, who will be our musical guides to the Land of the Lost Oct. 22 & 23.

After all our special friends left, we got down to work on our opening-weekend FERTILE CRESCENT extravaganza, and let me tell you it was ROUGH. For one thing, we were competing with the first Kerrey/Bush debate, which just raised the whole question of what business we have trying to make art, or political satire, or whatever it is we do, in such scary times. Now, granted, I'm a fictional character so I can't vote, and most of my Cabaret friends are imaginary too, but those of you who live in the "real" world (and I use that term as loosely as my sister North Rona uses her diaphragm) have bigger fish to fry. All WE have to worry about is trying to figure out which wig goes with which thrift store pantsuit. Y'all, on the other hand, are on the brink of thermonuclear disaster and/or the complete collapse of civil liberties and/or the demise of every principle that originally united the States, in case you hadn't noticed lately. I swear, it's awful tempting sometimes to just throw up your hands and say that nothing you do or say or create will make a difference, that the country's going to hell in a handbasket if we don't uproot the Bush. But if we don't tell our little jokes and sing (okay, lipsynch) our little songs to 30 people a night, what else could or should we be doing instead that would make any more of a difference?

So what do Y'ALL think, you audience people and fictional characters and nonfictional entities reading this? What CAN be the role of our little show--of all of our little lives--in the face of such a big, big, fucked up situation? Post yer comments here if you feel like it. Or anywhere else you can think of. Don't hold in yer despair--it'll only give you a bad cramp.

Oh, and if yer in the vicinity and still have an AM radio (remember those?), tune it to 1270 AM at 10 AM on Wednesday, October 6, cuz the Cabaret cast 'n' crew will be on Theresa Baker's supercool show "Talkback" to discuss that very subject and more. (Me, I'm still livin' on Taos Time, and I never get up that early, but I'll be rootin' for 'em in my dreams.)

And no matter what ELSE you do today, take it from Ronawanda: you make damn sure that your ass is registered to VOTE on Nov. 2 and that you tell everybody you know and love that they gotta vote TOO or you will withhold sex from them for the next four years.

And (as the Stage Master would say) that's an ORDER.

If You Like Pina Coladas...

Hi everyone, I'm a SWFP new on the scene and looking for some no-strings fun. I like rolling around in the mud, quiet nights in the sty, and sharing table scraps by candlelight with hunky SWMPs. Bonus points if they're mute, vaguely European intellectuals who love the theatre. Hit me up at SizzlingBacon@aol.com.

Announcement

Attention Real Dream Cabaret fans and castmembers: please stop the calls and emails asking me to swipe a pair of Don Paul's jockey shorts for you from the locker facilities at WIVB-TV. I mean, come on people, not only is it just flat-out rude but it also shows an incredible lack of respect for both Mr. Paul and me. If you want a pair of his shorts so badly, I suggest you get your ass over to ebay and bid like anyone else. Thank you.


P.S. My Jacquie Walker policy remains unchanged. Dude's got to eat, after all.

Frosty the Snowman

I've begun my yearly migration down from the North Pole, and I hope to make it to Buffalo a little early this year so I can get involved in the Cabaret again. Santa says that he's got a real cold blast ready to hit Buffalo by mid-October, and I'm looking forward to it. Nothing says fun like 4 feet of snow in one day!!!! Also, if anyone knows of any snow women out there, it's been a little lonely for me these past few years since my wife, Cranreuch, melted away. She always was slow to migrate, but women are just that way. Well, send some cold snow women my way, D-cup or larger, 36"round-24"round-36"round, NO FATTIES!!!! Well, I'll see you all real soon.

Coldly,
Frosty

Sperm

Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.

Sigmund the Sufficient

Well, I must say that it's been quite a whirlwind of a summer. After I got upgraded yet again by the Magician's Guild to Sigmund the Sufficient, I began getting calls for all kinds of new work. I've recently joined the Federation of Corporate and Trade Show Magicians (FOCATSM), and that's led to some exciting and lucrative work. I recently opened for Gallagher at the Microsoft Summer Picnic (Bill Gates is a big Gallagher fan), and I got a gig on a USO tour, supporting the troops the only way I know how... with MAGIC! The soliders weren't very receptive, though. I think they wanted Jessica Simpson.

I'm very thankful that Ronawanda let me back into the Cabaret. It took a lot of convincing and threatening to get her to understand that it was all North Ronawanda who wanted to overthrow the Cabaret. I was tied up backstage the whole time, and N. Ronawanda was just impersonating me. I swear I'm just an honest magician who's trying to make a living doing the only thing I love... that's right.... MAGIC!

Well, I look forward to seeing my adoring fans again, and I hope I can provide a sufficiently enjoyable time to the audience.

Love Always,

Sigmund the Sufficient

Piaget the Mute Swine

I choose not to speak, but that does not mean my thoughts do not flow freely. My voice belongs to everyone. I am ephemeral, I am paper in flame, I am a living poem.

Ronawanda

Y'all, I am having SO MUCH f-u-n getting ready for the new run of cabaret shows! We have a new cast member (I don't know her pretend name yet, but her real one is Miss Anna), and some new puppet friends (last week I met Piaget the Mute Swine for the first time, and he is a real cutie-poot, once you get over the silent treatment), and a new set (say hello to windows!), and all kinds of other exciting changes in our make-believe world.

As if that weren't all, we have all kinds of side projects in the works, like two video adventures and a calendar and our own line of luge suits and ever so much more. We've even had our first cast illness of the season, which surely won't be the last (get well soon, Dora--you know we're all right behind you ... in the line for the emergency room).

On a personal note, last night I dreamed about my sister North Ronawanda. The dream was directed by Penelope Spheeris. NR and I were sitting on the beach playing parchesi, and all of a sudden she started speaking Olde English! At least I'm pretty sure that's what it was; I caught most of the plot of Beowulf in there, but also a little part of an episode of Caroline in the City from the mid-90s.

Man, that used to be my favorite show.

North Ronawanda

HEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! Well, since my secret identity was discovered in February, and I was arrested for my plot to stop time, I've served the first 5 months of my 20 year sentence at the Danbury Federal Correctional Institution (though I have the possibility of parole in 15 years, and of course there are the many escape plans I'm busy hatching). Of course my blood is still boiling after my sister, Ronawanda, ratted me out. When she got up on the stand and said those awful things about me, well, lets just say she won't even know what hit her when I get out, which will hopefully be sooner than later.

I'm all jazzed up, though, because I'm going to be getting a new cell mate soon. I've been told that I'll be bunking with Martha Stewart once she starts serving her jail sentence. I was so excited when they told me I got my knickers all in a bunch. I'm hoping we'll have the cutest cell in the block, though I know I'll have the cutest cellmate in the block.

Well, God and shovel willing, I'll see y'all in October.

Ronawanda

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! Just a note to kick things off here and tell all my Cabaret brothers and sisters how much I miss y'all. Can't wait to get to work on our grand return to our stage home at Rust Belt in two short months.

Well, actually I can wait just a while longer, because I am having the time of my LIFE here in Taos, NM, sipping margaritas on the porch of my new friends' condo (it is made ENTIRELY of adobe!) and listening to abrasive German techno while snorting horse tranquilizers.

How did I get here, and who are my new friends? Beats the hell out of me! I thought I was boarding a plane bound for my hometown of Tonawanda, Mississippi to recover from my recent botched celebrity makeover, but somehow I ended up walking through the wrong gate at the airport, and one thing led to another, and here I am. Let me tell you, there are some super nice people working in the baggage claim department of the Taos airport! They gave me a place to stay for as long as I want, one hot meal after another (not counting the icy cold gazpacho we had for lunch this afternoon), and an unlimited supply of drugs and alcohol. Talk about a real dream!

Admittedly, they seem to think I really am Tammy Wynette, and I haven't had the heart to break the news to them about her tragic death a few years back. I'm sure it will come up in conversation sooner or later, but for now I am living like a queen.

See y'all back in the Buff in a month or so--maybe sooner, maybe later.