Tannhauser (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} spyinthehaus) wrote,@ 2005-02-10 10:30:00 |
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1402 is a joke
Rocher Cappucino, latest offspring of the ambassador-spoiling chocolate treats, are horrible. They appear to be standard Rocher with the added insertion of 20cc of gripewater.
Anyway, on other news, last night was a series of delightful interludes. Night before that,slightlyfoxed and I girded on the armour of God and ventured out into the East. The Hackney Empire, to be exact, via chance meetings with kitty_goth, erestania and blue_moon, in order of proximity and comprehensibility, for the Tsunami Relief show. There were worries expressed on the way about the gate, but the stalls at least seemed pretty packed, and I did my best to cover the event rental at the bar, despite a clear aversion on the part of the serving staff (class warfare or simple incompetence? You decide) to give three-piece a chance. In the end, I was reduced to slipping the more hipster-friendly plumsbitch a fiver and a beseeching glance.
I left at the halfway point, figuring that a donation is a donation no matter how much you get out of it - this by no means a reflection on the quality of the evening, only the distance betwixt and between. Obligingly, the organisers put most of the acts I wanted to see - Mark Thomas, Rob Newman and Ida Barr - into the opening section, along with Incandescence (excellent winding-sheet gymnastics but could somebody please keep the bloody angle grinders down a bit) and Miss Behave (excellent sword-swallowing action; is there a local government ordnance, does anyone know, insisting that all House of Harlot-clad performance artistes do the same music-hall posh?) - well worth the price of entry in themselves. I'm sure the second half was also lovely, but by then glass traps were opening and closing on night flights.
Rocher Cappucino, latest offspring of the ambassador-spoiling chocolate treats, are horrible. They appear to be standard Rocher with the added insertion of 20cc of gripewater.
Anyway, on other news, last night was a series of delightful interludes. Night before that,
slightlyfoxed and I girded on the armour of God and ventured out into the East. The Hackney Empire, to be exact, via chance meetings with kitty_goth, erestania and blue_moon, in order of proximity and comprehensibility, for the Tsunami Relief show. There were worries expressed on the way about the gate, but the stalls at least seemed pretty packed, and I did my best to cover the event rental at the bar, despite a clear aversion on the part of the serving staff (class warfare or simple incompetence? You decide) to give three-piece a chance. In the end, I was reduced to slipping the more hipster-friendly plumsbitch a fiver and a beseeching glance.I left at the halfway point, figuring that a donation is a donation no matter how much you get out of it - this by no means a reflection on the quality of the evening, only the distance betwixt and between. Obligingly, the organisers put most of the acts I wanted to see - Mark Thomas, Rob Newman and Ida Barr - into the opening section, along with Incandescence (excellent winding-sheet gymnastics but could somebody please keep the bloody angle grinders down a bit) and Miss Behave (excellent sword-swallowing action; is there a local government ordnance, does anyone know, insisting that all House of Harlot-clad performance artistes do the same music-hall posh?) - well worth the price of entry in themselves. I'm sure the second half was also lovely, but by then glass traps were opening and closing on night flights.
