Paul in London

Scenes from WC1 Saturday 10:33. Morning mist... 

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

Scenes from the supermarket Monday 21:07. Sarnies in a box for sale.  

Shocking news over the weekend. Not of cocaine being found in Boy George's apartment in New York (who would have thought?!), but of South London squirrels on crack . Not content to just hide nuts for the winter they are digging up stashes of drugs buried by the locals for later use. Brockwell Park is definitely worth an autumn visit now in search of dazed and confused rodents. And speaking of Boy George, there is the tragedy of his arrival at Heathrow yesterday. After wondering for years why he wears all that hideous makeup the truth is that he is concealing an even more hideous reality. He looks like the rough trade you find at The Black Cap on a slow night… Put the makeup back on!

Ad and I were talking to some Austrians at a bar in Soho on Friday night… Ad : Well Austria's greatest contribution to society was Hitler wasn't it? Austrian Woman : You are so rude! Paul (to the woman) : Yes he's terrible. And if the drinks weren't so expensive I'd tell you to throw your glass of wine at him…

Scenes from W1 approaching Dickens and Jones Saturday 12:50 - Does anyone still wear a wrap? 

On Thursday evening I travelled out to White City to the BBC Television Centre to watch a taping of a variety show on musicals. It was two years since I last did this and forgot that television recordings are a five hour odyssey. At the time I thought it was just because I was seeing a taping of Celebrity Mastermind which made it dull, but this was an odyssey too. It was one full of bad jokes (the warm up man used the line "dirty stinkin' gypos" which I thought surely wasn't very BBC-ish), hideous sets, and endless repeats of poorly arranged songs. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, they managed to find an arrangement to do so. Television is a curious thing as well as what makes it what it is, is local celebrities and local in-jokes, so it is a difficult thing to appreciate culturally as well if you have not had the years of exposure to it. The host was a typical garden variety smarmy type who had hosted several game shows and curiously seemed to be

On Tuesday evening as a diversion from waiting for news on other matters, A took me to see The UN Inspector at the National Theatre. Well first we went for tapas at Meson Don Felipe where after a bite to eat washed down with sangria it certainly put one in the mind for a silly sort of comedy update of Gogol's "The Government Inspector". This version was set in a Ukrainian-style country where an English conman was mistaken for a UN inspector looking into the country's human rights record. Michael Sheen was quite funny as the bumbling English conman but every once in a while the comedy ground to a halt when someone's tongue was ripped out, or people were killed. A little bit too black and not enough comedy perhaps. Also at nearly three hours, it tended to drag a bit. Geraldine James as the President's wife was also particularly amusing, although A suggested that Jewel in the Crown and Gandhi were the days of her better work, but I suggested her best work sur

Paul borrowed some socks off A last week and after washing them returned them to him this week… A : Thanks for washing them. What washing powder do you use they smell terrific? Paul : Why I use Fairy … Non bio… At this point Paul does not mention the M&S fabric softener as A is too busy cracking up…

On the weekend I managed to have brunch both days with Ad. We went to the same café in Soho on both days which was a cause for concern for Ad as he was worried that people would think that we were an item, as we usually end up laughing and looking like we are having a good time (and that would hurt his chances of picking up). I told him that there was nothing to fear as if by chance he saw something that took his fancy I would rush to the bathroom or make some sort of quick exit. Of course Saturday and Sunday mornings in Soho are not the places you are going to find the most eligible men in the city so I figured I would not be making any quick departures… On Sunday Ad had the skirt steak and it was a source of much discussion as to what part of the animal this came from . The waiter was none the wiser on its location. It was of particular discussion as Ad said it was tough (and it looked like old tyre tread). The waiter agreed and he suggested to Ad that he feed him something else next