Billy the Kid

I'm streaming the Lakers @ Spurs game online, but they're playing like shit so I'm going write an entry for all three viewers of the blog.

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London is world-renowned for their theatre productions. ("No shit", like you needed me to tell you that.) Some "twat" (a term of endearment over here) named William Shakespeare wrote and produced a bevy of plays here over 4 centuries ago and left an indelible mark on English city culture. Here's my myopic perception of Londoners: They read a shit ton while on the tube, they think frosted tips = cool hair, and they go to plays. I cannot say for certain how many theatre houses dot the city, but I venture to guess that the figure is in the 20s. Today, the canon extends beyond just Shakespeare's works -- a look at the dozens of adverts lining the tube tunnels indicates the diversity of plays being produced every night in London. Right outside the Tottenham Court tube station is a 20-foot sparkling gold statue of Freddy Mercury. Quite possibly the gayest statue in the entire United Kingdom. It was erected to promote "We Will Rock You", a musical featuring Queen's greatest hits. "Avenue Q" is a play featuring politically incorrect, potty-mouthed muppets who, at some time during the show, fuck vigoriously on stage. Hot. Ian MacKellan, every nerdy homosexual's favorite, is starring in the Samuel Beckett play, Waiting for Godot. See, they even have something for the existentialists.

Tonight we saw Billy Elliott @ the Victoria Palace, the first of four theatre productions we're poised to watch over the semester. In quick summation, the story is about a motherless fruit cake from a working class coal mining family who abandons boxing to follow his dream of becoming a ballet dancer. His courageous pursuit is somehow related to the coal miners union's fight against the big bad capitalistic coal company. You know, the conflict just never revealed itself to me. I think the four alcoholic beverages I had before hand may have had something to do with that. Anyway, throw in some oversized dancing dresses, ghostly apparitions, some uncomfortable boy-on-boy smooches, Socialist banter and you've got yourself a halfway-decent musical.

Afterward, we took the tube to Leiceister Square and hit up Zoo. Shit was poppin'. We ran into a mess of USC kids. On the way home, I found out that we have access to the University of London College student union, where drinks are only one quid! As Rob Hoy would say back home, "AWFECKYEA".

Mike and I are going to Amsterdam next weekend. I'm sure a couple more "AWFECKYEAS" will be had 'til then.