Dip Me In Chimay Brun and Throw Me to the Webloggers
Last Saturday was a whole lot of fun. I started out by being a bloody tourist and making an impromptu visit to Harrods department store in Knightsbridge. If you've never been there, the fantastic Art Deco interior alone makes it worth a visit, but the real treat is browsing through the various departments filled with eclectic (and expensive) goods that include persian rugs, jewelry, a huge gourmet food court, antique furnishings, and decorative fossils mounted in wall frames. I think I spotted a couple of Trilobite Agents stealthily lurking among their prehistoric brethren, waiting to DEVOUR OUR CHILDREN!
In the afternoon, I took in the matinee performance of Jerry Springer: the Opera. It was vilest, raunchiest, most offensive bit of musical theater that I've ever seen, so naturally I loved it! As a bonus, my ticket was upgraded from the upper balcony to the orchestra for some reason, so I got to see all the mayhem up close and personal.
The singing wasn't exactly of Wagnerian quality, but considering that the libretto dealt with lesbian dwarves who sleep with their cousins and men who can only find sexual satisfaction from pooping in their adult diapers, it didn't really matter. Despite the grotesque topics of the songs, the plot examined some pretty standard moral themes with Jerry taking an unplanned trip to Hell to try and reconcile God and Satan. My favorite part was the tap-dancing Klansmen, a scene which looked like it was lifted straight out of a Mel Brooks film.
After the play let out, I walked a few meters down the road to Belgo Centraal, where I spotted the cleverly disguised Plep waiting. We were soon joined by The Cartoonist and Konstantin, then finally by Annie Mole. We then descended into the steamy belly of Belgo whereupon we drank copious amounts of Belgian ales, ate various and sundry Belgian delicacies, and examined an advance copy of Annie's forthcoming (and decidedly non-Belgian) book One Stop Short of Barking, about the intricacies of London's Underground. The book looks to be a winner, and The Cartoonist's fine illustrations complement Annie's concise prose perfectly.
We left Belgo after a few hours of fun and interesting conversation, then popped around to a small pub called the Lamb and Somethingorother, for a few more pints.
UPDATE: Konstantin sent me this wonderful photo of us standing outside the pub in Covent Garden. I'm giving him what we call the "Stink Eye" back home.
