See for yourself:
I've never seen the musical Wicked. I've never even read the book. To me that's blasphemy. I'm not going to read a book by some L. Frank BUM about what Oz was like "back in the day." Witch please! It's Baum or bust. I read a lot of the Oz books as a kid, and I've discussed my love of the 1939 filmed version of the story. Though I've never seen the 1925 version. I don't even know if it's survived. I have seen the clips of the Edison version from 1910. I like saying "version" a lot, don't I.
So what's all this got to do about the freshness of Mayor Bloomberg's testicles?
I can't stop listening to that reedy Kristin Chenowith singing that damned song. It's a good one, I gots to admit.
Laaaaaaaa Laaaaaaaaaa, Laaaaaaaaaaaa Laaaaaaaaaaaaaa, you'll be popular!
Just not quite as popular as MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!
Coming tomororw, a discourse on Hello, Dolly!
Or maybe not. You'll have to tune in to find out (as if...).