The source of the blues.

I’ve been battling a bad case of depression for the past few weeks now.  This latest and lengthy bout with depression comes from a singular source, and I’m finally ready to speak about it: My working relationship with The Slaughterhouse Sweethearts recently came to an abrupt end.  If you’ve been reading these blog posts you know how much I enjoyed being a part of the troupe, and how proud I was to be counted among them.

As much as it hurts, I bear them no ill will.  They’ve moved on, and I must do the same.  Fem Bones, the troupe’s founder and leader, is one of my oldest, dearest friends, and the end of our working relationship is not the end of our friendship.  The Sweethearts have an amazing calendar of upcoming shows, and if you’re a fan of their work I urge you to attend their performances.

I still have a lot of love for the Boston burlesque scene.  It’s a haven of weird, alternative performances that combine stripteases, live music, short plays, and performance art.  You’ll be seduced and grossed out (probably by blood-splatter or horror/gore) in the same night.  All sexual orientations, gender identities, and body types are celebrated.  Women and men share the stage, the host mic, and all duties in between.  Admittedly I only ever stripped down to the waist during my time as host, but that was only because I had body-image issues, and I’m still working to get over them.

I have a lot of great memories with the Slaughterhouse Sweethearts: helping Fem Bones streamline the script and story for their flagship show, Revenge of the Robot Battle Nuns; my first appearance as “The Wizard!” in their first heavy metal show; drinking blood out of a chalice served to me by my pregnant wife for the follow-up heavy metal show; being a giant stick of butter in a naughty popcorn number; playing Killer Moth for their Arkham Asylum-themed show and kissing Commissioner Gordon full on the mouth in the final act (that brought the house down).  I’m going to miss them terribly, but I will cherish those memories.