“My name is Bridget Everett,” she bellowed over an electric-guitar riff. “Some people may not know me, but you will Not. Fucking. Forget me.”
“Let me explain a couple quick things,” she told the crowd. “ ‘Bridget, you wearing a bra?’ Nope, don’t need one. Next question?”
Before long, she was roaming through the audience, motorboating people’s faces in her cleavage. |
