Saturday night, we got dinner with two friends, who’d taken the liberty of buying us tickets to the very entertaining Kiss My Cabaret for afterward. KMC turns out to be a lot funnier than the old performance art revue Balls that we attended several times long ago when we lived in Minneapolis. I remember Balls as occasionally brilliant and as taking itself very seriously. KMC was more, well, raucous. Of course it was bilingual and I got lost a few times, but when the two Catholic ladies described the priest’s sex ed class for boys, I got the idea.