01 September 2008
Greased and ready
I think I may need to abandon catching up on my blog, as it's really not going that well and it's stopping me from writing about anything current. So I might leave blogging Stu and Helen's wedding and the voyage to Sweden, and maybe come back to them later when I've got more time. Both weddings were very nice anyway - Stu and Helen's was much more traditional than ours, which was good because then it contrasted nicely, and the trip to Sweden went astonishingly well - arrived with an hour and a half to spare, took zero wrong turns, and didn't crash the hire car. We also made some new Swedish friends, and enjoyed about eight musical numbers at various points during the celebrations. Apparently people sing a lot at Swedish weddings.
Anyway, that's my perfunctory attempt at catching up, so I can now skip ahead to September and the present day.
We had a lovely weekend, although I'm quite tired from it today. One of our wedding presents was a £50 voucher for a meal at Due South, which we decided to use on Saturday when we had possibly the last gloriously sunny day of the summer. Due South is a very nice restaurant on the beach front, serving mainly fish dishes (so not my bag) but also a few other things. It is frighteningly expensive though, so we'd never normally go if we were paying ourselves. Our two main courses and two cocktails used up the whole £50 voucher! But I had a lovely roast chicken breast with a carrot purée thing, and Chris had a risotto that he said was among the best meals he's ever had. And we did a nice bit of boy-watching while we were at it. Rough pikeys in grey trackies can be so fit, and you can see everything...
Then on Saturday we indulged in a little Super Dynamite Boogaloo. The theme this month was Grease Is The Word, based therefore on the film Grease. We wanted to dress up, but had neither suitable leather jackets nor enough hair to make into a quiff. So instead we went just as 'grease', by dressing up as mechanics. It worked really well actually, although I've ruined a t-shirt. No-one else was dressed up really though, typical. Some of the girls were in fifties dresses, but no boys ever make an effort. It was good fun anyway.
I met an odd Scottish girl who somehow thought that the fact she was wearing a poncho would convey she was from Scotland in some way. I'm still puzzling over that one. My only possible explanation so far is that the Scottish dress maker in Ugly Betty may have a similar poncho thing, but it's somewhat tenuous.
And then after writing a million wedding thank you notes on Sunday, Chris persuaded me that we could probably manage another night out, so we tried Eurotrash at the Ghetto. It's kind of a cabaret-come-club night, run by boogaloo-stu-in-waiting The Size Zero Albino (or 'Stephen' as he's otherwise known). It was good anyway, and not too strenuous for a work night. We enjoyed seeing Mr Cashback do various raps about such varied topics as pulling a sickie, trainers, and someone eating your sandwiches, and then saw a duo called Los Bonomos who did lots of ironic songs about haircuts and structural engineers. Rather too many songs in fact, it went on for ages, to the point where they twigged they were losing the audience and hurriedly finished their set.
I wish we'd had more time and/or more energy, because the music, particularly pre-cabaret, was very good. But we left soon after 12 like good boys and now I'm only medium-tired today.
So that was my weekend. Very fun and alcohol-fuelled.
Also, John McCain has picked Sarah Palin as his Vice-Presidential running mate. A poor choice in my opinion that smacks a little of desperation - he's chosen a woman in order to try to lure away some of the Hillary supporters who don't like Obama, and he's chosen someone thirty years his junior in order to drag their average age down into the fifties. But would a small-town mayor and governor of one of the freak states make a good president in the event that the 72-year old Mr McCain dropped dead? Possibly not. She's no Geena Davis in my opinion. And she's a neo-conservative. So anyway, Obama gets my vote that I don't have because I'm not American. I'm sure he'll be pleased.
Anyway, that's my perfunctory attempt at catching up, so I can now skip ahead to September and the present day.
We had a lovely weekend, although I'm quite tired from it today. One of our wedding presents was a £50 voucher for a meal at Due South, which we decided to use on Saturday when we had possibly the last gloriously sunny day of the summer. Due South is a very nice restaurant on the beach front, serving mainly fish dishes (so not my bag) but also a few other things. It is frighteningly expensive though, so we'd never normally go if we were paying ourselves. Our two main courses and two cocktails used up the whole £50 voucher! But I had a lovely roast chicken breast with a carrot purée thing, and Chris had a risotto that he said was among the best meals he's ever had. And we did a nice bit of boy-watching while we were at it. Rough pikeys in grey trackies can be so fit, and you can see everything...
Then on Saturday we indulged in a little Super Dynamite Boogaloo. The theme this month was Grease Is The Word, based therefore on the film Grease. We wanted to dress up, but had neither suitable leather jackets nor enough hair to make into a quiff. So instead we went just as 'grease', by dressing up as mechanics. It worked really well actually, although I've ruined a t-shirt. No-one else was dressed up really though, typical. Some of the girls were in fifties dresses, but no boys ever make an effort. It was good fun anyway.
I met an odd Scottish girl who somehow thought that the fact she was wearing a poncho would convey she was from Scotland in some way. I'm still puzzling over that one. My only possible explanation so far is that the Scottish dress maker in Ugly Betty may have a similar poncho thing, but it's somewhat tenuous.
And then after writing a million wedding thank you notes on Sunday, Chris persuaded me that we could probably manage another night out, so we tried Eurotrash at the Ghetto. It's kind of a cabaret-come-club night, run by boogaloo-stu-in-waiting The Size Zero Albino (or 'Stephen' as he's otherwise known). It was good anyway, and not too strenuous for a work night. We enjoyed seeing Mr Cashback do various raps about such varied topics as pulling a sickie, trainers, and someone eating your sandwiches, and then saw a duo called Los Bonomos who did lots of ironic songs about haircuts and structural engineers. Rather too many songs in fact, it went on for ages, to the point where they twigged they were losing the audience and hurriedly finished their set.
I wish we'd had more time and/or more energy, because the music, particularly pre-cabaret, was very good. But we left soon after 12 like good boys and now I'm only medium-tired today.
So that was my weekend. Very fun and alcohol-fuelled.
Also, John McCain has picked Sarah Palin as his Vice-Presidential running mate. A poor choice in my opinion that smacks a little of desperation - he's chosen a woman in order to try to lure away some of the Hillary supporters who don't like Obama, and he's chosen someone thirty years his junior in order to drag their average age down into the fifties. But would a small-town mayor and governor of one of the freak states make a good president in the event that the 72-year old Mr McCain dropped dead? Possibly not. She's no Geena Davis in my opinion. And she's a neo-conservative. So anyway, Obama gets my vote that I don't have because I'm not American. I'm sure he'll be pleased.
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