When I auditioned to be in Molière’s The Imaginary Invalid, I didn’t really think that meant one day I’d be sitting in the green room in a Hitler mustache and thigh-highs.
I guess it could be worse.
When I auditioned to be in Molière’s The Imaginary Invalid, I didn’t really think that meant one day I’d be sitting in the green room in a Hitler mustache and thigh-highs.
I guess it could be worse.
