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Now I wonder how many of you reading this right now have heard of Donny Osmond?
If you, like me, were born in the mid-70s, then chances are you’re aware of the Don and his equally toothy sister, Marie. You’re probably also aware of spokey dokeys, most of the lyrics to Ebony and Ivory and the origin of the phrase “Like gag me with a spoon”.
If you were born in the mid-80s, you might have a passing idea of this Mormon dude who sang the dreadful 'Soldier of Love' and apparently used to be famous once. More than likely you have no idea who he is and were too busy being obsessed with the next Harry Potter book, that new fangled type TV show The Real World and idolising that sweet innocent virgin Britney Spears.
If you were born in the 90s, you’re obviously still in nappies and can’t read so I won’t bother with you.
BUT just so you know Donny Osmond was a hugely famous singer/entertainer in the 60s and 70s, and he was in Auckland last week.
I was sent along by the New Zealand Herald to review him and found the whole experience truly hilarious. I won’t repeat all of my review, there’s probably copyright issues, but I will say I thought he was sweet, a fab singer, very charming but basically, a bit s**t.
However in the room on the night were thousands of screaming women aged between 42 – 60 who truly truly wanted him.
I thought he was as sexy as Don Brash in a lace teddy, but after looking at the sweaty faces around me I really did think it was only a matter of time before some control-top undies were hurled at his face by a hormonally crazed menopausal teen wannabe.
But then I realised, let she who is without silly star crushes cast the first G-String.
You see I imagine myself in 18 years time sitting in the front row of a… Robbie Williams concert. My face shining in anticipation, girdle in hand, husband left at home (husband, hhhphwaaahahahaha) waiting for the beginning strains of 'Let Me Entertain You' so I can burst out of my seat (if my back’s up to it) and surge through the sagging butts to get to the front row and hurl my girdle in his face.
There I would gaze admiringly up at a man with so many Maori tattoos he looks like a Te Papa exhibit as he winked at me and said; “All right darling?”
He’d then reach down and pluck me from the audience (with the help of a small step ladder) and firmly pash the living daylights out of me while I secretly thanked god for having a Smint and gluing in my teeth.
He’d then press the key to his room on the ground floor of the Hilton (can’t handle the stairs) into my sweaty palm as he promised the best night of love making I’ll ever have. (Well as long as I didn’t mind him taking some tea breaks and using as many appliances as he could coz he wasn’t as flexible as he used to be and if I could leave by 9pm so he can get 8 hours sleep.)
So yes, when I think of all that I realise that these women weren’t that silly after all, and why should I rain on their Donny Day parade coz a girl has to dream, and as Donny himself says; “Any Dream will do”.
Start writing now, only one week to go as on August 17 Speakeasy returns, this time UPSTAIRS in the Classic Comedy Bar Studio, 321 Queen St. Spoken Word, Comedy, Cabaret, Music, Dance, Naked Tao Drumming… whatever. The Alternative Open Mic, 8pm, Gold Coin. To perform email speakeasy@hotpink.co.nz
Last updated: 29/04/2008
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