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Somewhere that's green: Potty the Plant at Wiltons Music Hall

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"I'm Potty the Plant," sings a potted plant in this odd little fringe concept of a show. It's hard not to get the tune out of your head, even if the show is brief. It's an earworm for a show that features a worm-like plant as a puppet. And given the show's brevity, running at only an hour, it's hard to get too annoyed by a lack of a coherent story, even if it still seems like the show could use a bit more development (which is underway). It has made its London debut at Wilton's Music Hall. The premise is that Potty, the plant, lives in the hospital office of Dr Acula (geddit?) and dreams of a life with the cleaning lady Miss Lacey (Lucy Appleton). But Dr Acula might be responsible for why all these children are disappearing while trying to romance Miss Lacey for her family's money that she doesn't have. Three nurses are on the case, trying to solve the mystery.  If the show settled on a convincing plot, location and set of characters, it could ...
At a Covent Garden ball last night:

Speaker: Ladies and Gentlemen, given the events of Thursday we had contemplated canceling tonight... But given the prevailing mood in London... (the room erupts into cheers).

I went with A to the ball which had a burlesque theme. That basically meant there were lots of tits with tassels, which anybody I think can enjoy. After a vodka and orange and a bottle of cheap white wine (that wasn't so cheap) good times were ensued. During the course of the evening a photograph was taken of me involving two ladies, a whip, a paddle and A. It was nothing like it suggests however... There were also boys in period costume selling bamboo folding fans so I bought one of those. One lady commented that it appeared only the men were using these frilly little fans. Well, it was one of those sort of evenings.

As I was wearing some rough denim and A was wearing leather trousers I did suggest that we could spend the rest of the night in some interesting bars around town, but we decided against this in the end. Besides, neither of us had the moustache (real or otherwise) to carry that look...

After the ball I was going to catch up with M1 and M2 for a drink, but they cancelled. They live near Manor House tube on the Piccadilly line which is now indefinitely closed. A 20 minute journey into central London would now take almost an hour if they caught the bus. I guess the city isn't as easy (or as convenient) to get around as it used to be.

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