Cirque de Harsh

I'm so rubbish, I wanted to do these at least every two days. I think it barely averages out at that! Oh well, things have been hectic-ish.

The weekend was grand, stopped by Ghost in Farringdon for catastrophe du moment, Jodie Harsh's travelling Circus night. Was enormous fun, though mainly because I consumed far more than at William & Son. Had I not, I doubt I would have enjoyed myself so much. As it was, I was there to see some friends performing in fabulous Union flag bodysuits with bunny ears. I kid not, they form part of an army in Bishi's One Nation. To (possibly, whosoever can predict these things) storm the charts soon. I don't even know what it sounds like, I was too busy dancing on a platform to indiscernible bass.

The crowd was equally indiscernible. Who are they all? An uber-fashionistic, wannabe, out-there generic, "avant-garde" attempt at cool. I can hardly talk, but I was at least the sole person (so far as I could see) wearing a poppy. And I judge people who don't wear them. Which is difficult today, because my poppy disappeared yesterday and I haven't found them anywhere to replace it. And I worry others judge me.

"No no," I protest as I feel their glances, running over my bare, naked, poppy-free lapel.
"I lost it, I'm getting another, point me in the right direction, don't judge me, please. I am one of you, I truly am! Believe ME!"

And so on. Because it IS important to me. Particularly as our soldiers are still fighting so far from home and on our behalf. I don't think there could be many people with no connections to this and former conflicts. And I think it is very important to recognize their sacrifice.

But I digress. A good night, but I fail to see the hype. Pretentious drag-queens and an overweight man wearing little more than tights does precious little to inspire (and at worst puts one off food). But all in the name of fun I suppose, and admittedly I paid nothing to get in. Equally someone at the bar looked after me, even creating a drink out of... Well I think he said Rum, amongst other things. It must have been lethal, because I woke up the next day on the floor at a friend's in Southgate. Grand!

A day in bed and then ready to face Part 2. A charming night at the Lexington, courtesy of fiancée Treacle. She is an amazing DJ, though admittedly if you dislike Northern Soul you may find it a tad dull. But then who would care, you would be ignored.

A dull live band, sneaked-in Vodka and then some Champagne later, there was much rejoicing. I much preferred it to Circus simply because there, nobody paid much attention to you. At Circus, it feels like the whole club is staring at you and making its judgement. Which is fine, and quite amusing. But not for every evening, if you don't mind.

Toodle pip!