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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 ...

Life Lessons of the week

It has been a bit of a quiet week while I sort out some all-important matters (such as whether I am staying here in London beyond November). This weekend however I have started to move my things out of WC1. I will say goodbye to all the delights and conveniences of Zone 1 living (such as being able to walk to the gym, to Covent Garden, to Soho) and will be staying temporarily in Zone 3.

This week my flatmate R was also at home on holiday so it was a bit of the idle life this week.  R and I were reflecting on the past few months this week and I would have to say that my time here has been the best of all my living experiences in London. No prissy queens, no heavily medicated boyfriends, just good sensible living, with a smattering of gentlemen callers. Actually this week it has been more like lashings on R's part I don't know how he has the stamina to keep up, but I digress…

Reflecting on it all R mentioned that he had sussed me out pretty quickly, but what I didn't mention to him was what made me interested in this place. I remember that day in February well. Checking out the flat I went to the bathroom and noticed skid-marks in the toilet bowl. I figured that if somebody was that casual about not cleaning the toilet when strangers were coming over to check out their place then they couldn't be all that bad to live with. So that is my flat-hunting tip in London – check the lavatory for skid marks.  

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