Another absolutely excellent weekend judders past and highlights how much fun it’s possible to have if you really put your mind to it.

Friday night I went to The Bloomsbury Theatre to see a standup gig from Al Madrigal and Janeane Garofalo.  Both were in excellent form, however the crowd was really fired up for Garofalo, and there was a general air of disappointment when she got to the end of her allotted time and had to leave the stage – we all wanted more, and she had plenty more to tell us.  Hopefully a revisit sometime soon?  She was charmingly cynical but in a venemously perky way.  Self-effacing and seemingly resigned to what life’s thrown at her, she gave us some great insights into her world.  I’m not 100% sure why, but she reminded me a lot of Bill Hicks.  Very, very glad I went.

Saturday I was out hankywaving in the St Albans area with The Westminster Morris Men again – as well as some top fun dancing with some excellent sides (St Albans, Hoddesdon Crownsmen, and Etcetera Morris Men), we alsohad a chance to visit historic country pile Hatfield House.  Does wonders for the self-esteem, that does.  Beautiful place though.  Wouldn’t mind retiring to something like that.  I’m convinced that I’ve had bedrooms smaller than the fireplace there.

Hoverdancers go WHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
Hoverdancers go WHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

Saturday night we descended on a bar in Shoreditch – which had sadly swapped its cheesy “soft porn decoration policy” for an “inversely proportion music volume with ambient light policy” – to welcome Liz into a new period of chronological accounting.  Good people, nice drinks: top night out!  Not sure why, but I was momentarily overcome with excitement to realise that I routinely hang out with such a bunch of absolute babes.

Oh, you beautiful babes from England... will you go to the prom with us in San Dimas?
Oh, you beautiful babes from England... will you go to the prom with us in San Dimas?

Sunday, for an extra special treat, we celebrated Ally’s birthday with afternoon tea at The Dorchester.  Oh yeah.  It’s easy to get caught up in the opulence and grandeur of the surroundings, however now becoming accustomed to such things I was able to concentrate more on the food – the rosé champagne we had was light, fruity & tasty, the scones were fluffy, and the most impressive thing was the “pre-dessert” of cherry sorbet with some kind of cinnamon creme on top.  Three thumbs up!  And the staff were unfailingly helpful & polite.

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And on the way back up to Soho for champagne and salsa dancing, we saw the finest suit that has ever been made for anyone, anywhere, ever.  Behold its awesomeness:

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There’s nothing further to be said.

Life once again has meaning. In suit form.
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