I have a confession: I fucking hate musicals. As a matter of fact, the only musical I think that I’ve ever enjoyed was The Wizard of Oz and that was probably only because of the little people. Little people kick ass, ask TLC. I even cringe when the Disney movies spontaneously break into a song about growing legs, flopping around on dry land and trying to bang out that fishy smell. Perhaps a small number about some little shit trying to usurp the rightful king of the pride when he went through a ridiculous amount of work to commit some tasty regicide. I’ve seen the movie Rent and wanted to punch everybody involved as I don’t give a flying Cleveland steamer how many seconds are in a damn year. You know what Mary Poppins, if you didn’t terrify the bloody children with a two-hour musical tirade of how awful medicine tastes, they probably would have taken that shit right away. Now you’ve just set them on a course for obesity, bad teeth and diabeetus. Why couldn’t the fairy godmother just turn Cinderella into a fucking princess without the musical sputum?
Honestly, who the fuck starts singing about every little damn thing they’re about to do? Do people actually compose songs about dropping the kids off at the pool? Shall I now serenade that head of lettuce with regards to the lovely salad I’m going to be tossing it in? Fuck no and neither should you! For Godtupus’ sake, if I started singing every time I was going to hi-a-ho, I’d never get anything done. Look, I realize that I have no soul and I’ve learned to deal with it. You can try to change my position on musicals, but I would like to think that I’m unanimous in this. However, if you really were interested in turning me to the dark side, this would be a good start.