Japandamonium!!!

So our Pint turned into a foray to our favorite chips place (or "chippy" as they refer to them here), for some, well, chips. Dude, chips are such a good invention. They are really really good and filling and delicious versions of french fries, but somehow infinitely better than fries could ever be. They start out in a little paper bag, like a small-size MacDonald's fries bad, and then wrap this big piece of greasy paper around it to make a big cone, and then shovel more chips into it until it fills up. They also give you a little wooden two-pronge folk to eat them with, out of your big paper cone. You pour some malt vingar onto them and a lot of salt, and then you walk around with your paper cone of delicious salty chips. Health? Oh, no. Tasty and cheap? Oh, yes yes yes. They are kind of like heaftier versions of Thrashers, for those of you who have been down to the Rehobeth beach boardwalk. Sooo good, are chips.

Our place to go for them is Gig's Fish Bar and Kebab House, a few minutes walk away. Ahh, Gig's. These middle-ages guys from Cyprus own and cook at it. They like us, and we like them, and we always leave Gig's with a good feeling and a some kind of pocket (paper, pita bread, gyro) full of greasy deliciosity. Gig speaks with a very "you lika de juice?" strained and accented voice, always sounding as if he has just finished singing soprano and his throat is struggling to make sounds that are still formed and audible. He always calls us "boysss" and calls any girls "lady" or "pretty lady" or "miss," and is always smiling. He seems to like what he does a great deal, and always has a kind word and always slides your drink down the counter to you, and is very happy when you catch it just right.

So to Gig's and then we got a call to come to the University London Union to join people John knows at a "club" that they have there. It was expensive and lame, the DJ was terrrrrrible (we would have killed for something with a good, danceable beat), and it was impossible to meet anyone or dance with anyone you didn't already know. Do people actually meet people when they go dancing? How does this work? Or are pubs and dance clubs actually just illusions of social fluidity, and everyone is there with people that they already know? Or maybe there are just ways of doing it that I am as yet unfamiliar with? It is a frustrating mystery. If anyone has some light to shed, hook a brother up.

So the good chips, crappy clubbing, and then home and to bed.

Oh, yesterday afternoon however I had a good time seeing some clowning. I didn't see as much of the show as I had aimed to (a busdriver lady barked at me to sit down whenever i asked her where i should get off, insisting that it was on "the other side," whatever the hell that meant, and finally admitted/realized that she didn't know where i wanted to go, and thought that we had passed it long ago), but it was still free and fun. I got to see this clown-come-friend Hillary who I met at the Palace in NY a few weeks ago, and who invited me to this gig here. It was really wonderful to see her and meet her people; she was extraordinarily nice and welcoming, and introduced me to all her friends. Tonight I am going to join some of them at this clown Paka's show at a theatre called The Albany, if i can find it and get there on time. Here are a few pictures from the clowning thing yesterday, and then I am off to shower and read some Chaucer.