Photos I took of the prop letter I have (among other letters) which Christine receives in her dressing room from Madame Giry.
My favorite shots from set of performance shots from the wings. Plus it’s my favorite Firmin, David Cryer!
Will you still love me, when I’m no longer young and beautiful?
The MaskCard: so others can spot your weirdness a mile away. ;)
Hey followers! I got this at the Broadway Flea Market on Sunday, but I actually don’t know D.C. Anderson that well, and want to be able to give it to someone who really appreciates him. This was either a door card or one of those cards they use to tell you who is playing who on the board, not really sure which.
I will make this a drawing of sorts. Simply like this post, and I will enter you into the drawing which I will pull on Friday, September 27th. This is nothing big, I just want to be able to give something to someone who wasn’t able to attend the BFM on Sunday :)
Unfortunately, I can only afford shipping in the USA and Canada, so please only like it if you live here. Good luck!
Will also be including two nickel sized pins with quotes from RENT!
For some reason during “The Final Lair,” I always sing along with the Phantom as Christine with “For either way I choose I cannot win.” I don’t know. Sometimes I think it sounds good, and sometimes I don’t. Probably best she just stay silent…
Saw this at Joann fabrics the other day
Thought you phans would appreciate it.
Chrizzle Daaé travels wit her father, a gangbangin’ hyped fiddler, all up in Europe n’ skits folk n’ religious beatz. Drop dis like itz hot! When Chrizzle was six muthafuckin years old, her mutha took a dirt nap n’ her daddy was brought ta rural Frizzle by a patron, Pimp Valerius.
When Chrizzle was a cold-ass lil lil pimp her daddy holla’d at her nuff stories bout tha “Angel of Music”, whoz ass is tha personification of musical inspiration. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. Chrizzle meets n’ befriendz tha lil’ Raoul, Viscount of Chagny. One of Chrizzle n’ Raoulz most straight-up bangin stories is one of Little Lotte, a hoe whoz ass is hit up by tha Angel of Music n’ possesses a heavenly voice.
Chrizzle now lives wit ‘Mamma’ Valerius, tha coffin dodgin’ widow of her fatherz benefactor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch eventually is given a posizzle up in tha chorus all up in tha Paris Opera Doggy Den (Palais Garnier). Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch begins hearin a funky-ass dope, unearthly voice which sings ta her n’ speaks ta her n’ shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch believes dis must be tha Angel of Music n’ asks his ass if he is. Da Voice agrees n’ offers ta teach her “a lil bit of heavenz music”. Da Voice, however, belongs ta Erik, a physically deformed n’ menstrually disturbed musical smart-ass whoz ass was one of tha architects whoz ass took part up in tha construction of tha opera yo. Dude is up in ludd wit Christine yo. Dude has also been extortin scrilla from tha Operaz pimpment fo’ nuff years, n’ be also called tha “Opera Ghost” by tha denizenz of tha Opera.
Chrizzle triumphs all up in tha gala on tha night of tha oldschool managers’ retirement yo. Her oldschool childhood playa Raoul hears her rap n’ recalls his fuckin ludd fo’ her n’ shiznit yo. Dude then hears tha “Angel of Music” bustin lyrics ta Christine fo’ realz. A time afta tha gala, tha Paris Opera performs Faust, wit tha prima donna Carlotta playin tha lead, against Erikz wishes. In response ta a refused surrender of Box Five ta tha Opera Ghost, Carlotta loses her voice n’ tha grand chandelier plummets tha fuck into tha crew.
After tha accident, Erik kidnaps Christine, brangs her ta his home (the cellars) n’ reveals his fuckin legit identitizzle yo. Dude plans ta keep her there fo’ all dem days, hopin dat biiiiatch will come ta ludd his muthafuckin ass. Chrizzle begins ta find her muthafuckin ass attracted ta her abductor. But dat thugged-out biiiatch causes Erik ta chizzle his thugged-out lil’ plans when she unmasks his ass and, ta tha horror of both, beholdz his wild lil’ face, which accordin ta tha book, resemblez tha grill of a rottin corpse. Erik goes tha fuck into a gangbangin’ frenzy, statin she probably be thinkin his wild lil’ grill be another mask, n’ whilst diggin her fingers up in ta show dat shiznit was straight-up his wild lil’ grill da perved-out muthafucka shouts, “I be Don Juan Triumphant!” before crawlin away, bustin up. Fearin dat dat biiiiatch will leave him, da ruffneck decides ta keep her wit his ass forever yo, but when Chrizzle requests release afta two weeks, he agrees on condizzle dat dat biiiiatch wear his bangin rang n’ be faithful ta his muthafuckin ass.
On tha roof of tha opera house, Chrizzle drops some lyrics ta Raoul dat Erik abducted her n’ shit. Raoul promises ta take Chrizzle away ta a place where Erik can never find her n’ shit. Raoul drops some lyrics ta Chrizzle da perved-out muthafucka shall act on his thugged-out lil’ promise tha next day, ta which Chrizzle agrees. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. She, however, is pitiful fo’ Erik n’ aint gonna go until dat freaky freaky biatch has sung a cold lil’ woo wop fo’ his ass one last time. Chrizzle then realizes tha rang has slipped off her finger n’ has fallen tha fuck into tha streets somewhere, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin’ thru fo’sho. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch begins ta panic. Da two muthafuckin bounce. Neither is aware dat Erik has been listenin ta they conversation n’ dat dat schmoooove muthafucka has become mad jealous. In tha weeks which have gone by, Erik has terrorised mah playas whoz ass has stood up in his way or up in Christinez game, includin tha managers.
Da followin night, Erik kidnaps Chrizzle durin a thang of Faust (he sticky-icky-ickys pimps wit gas, switches tha lights off n’ spirits Chrizzle off tha stage). Erik tries ta force Chrizzle ta fuck his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude states dat if she refuses, da thug will use explosives (which dat schmoooove muthafucka has planted up in tha cellars) n’ destroy tha entire opera doggy den . Chrizzle refuses, until she realizes dat Erik hustled of Raoul’ n’ his oldschool acquaintizzle ,Da Persian’s, attempt ta rescue her n’ trapped dem up in his bangin’ torture chamber n’ shit. To save dem n’ tha playas above, Chrizzle agrees ta fuck Erik. Erik initially tries ta drown Raoul n’ tha Persian, rockin tha gin n juice which would done been used ta douse tha explosives n’ argues dat Chrizzle did not em. But Chrizzle begs n’ offers ta be his “livin bride”, promisin his ass not ta bust a cap up in her muthafuckin ass afta becomin his bride, as dat freaky freaky biatch had both contemplated n’ attempted earlier up in tha novel. Erik eventually rescues tha Persian n’ Raoul from his cold-ass torture chamber n’ shit. When Erik is ridin’ solo wit Christine, he lifts his crazy-ass mask ta lick her on her forehead, n’ is given a lick back. Erik reveals dat dat schmoooove muthafucka has never received a lick (not even from his own mother) or has been allowed ta give one n’ is overcome wit emotion. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch yo. Dude lets Chrizzle go n’ drops some lyrics ta her “Go n’ marry tha pimp whenever you wish”, explaining, “I know you ludd him”. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch leaves on tha condizzle dat when he takes a thugged-out dirt nap dat biiiiatch will come back n’ bury his muthafuckin ass.
Bein a oldschool acquaintance, tha Persian is holla’d at these secrets by Erik , n’ upon his wild lil’ fuckin express request, tha Persian advertises Erikz dirtnap up in a newspaper bout three weeks later n’ shit. Da cause of tha dirtnap is revealed ta be a gangbangin’ fucked up ass, n’ as promised, Chrizzle returns ta bury Erik n’ gives his ass tha rang back.
This edit is so beautiful. I wonder who does their photoshopping. The talent is unbelievable.