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So you think you can dance

(No one puts gravy in a corner)

Because you never miss an opportunity to get three sheets to the wind, which incidentally is a sailing term, sailor, I was going to recommend you take your enlarged liver and ruddy, bulbous nose to a wine festival, but then I realized that actually that wine festival is tomorrow, which leaves you with precious little to do tonight. Fear not, my prize melons! Tonight you’ll be tapping, high-kicking, macarena-ing, hustling, sprinklering, cutting the deck, and shuffling, cabbage patching and more at Midsummer Night Swing at 6:30 at Lincoln Center. Now, I should warn you that I’m a horrendous liar—an horrendous liar to be exact—and so really you’ll just be swinging and salsaing and doing that thing where you stand in place and bop around like you did to Def Leppard in seventh grade. But if you were to unleash a little Roger Rabbiting, I can’t imagine it would be greeted with anything but amazement, because your moves are magnetic, which is why I’d appreciate it if you’d stay away from my hard drive.

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