back from the ‘burgh!
Edinburgh, that is, and (thanks to a ridiculously cheap set of train tickets that it would have been rude to say no to) by way of London – yay! There are some who would say that it was difficult to tell I was back at all and it’s with huge apologies to everybody who has tried for short notice appointments this last few weeks and not been able to get them, and also to those who did get them and found me to be a touch on the painty side, if as amenable as ever thanks largely to my favourite festival of the year and far too much Nando’s for one weekend.
One walkout, which is unusual for DBD – not because I haven’t wanted to leave mid-film precisely once a year every year (the one dropped ball is the annual get-back for the rest all being so consistently wonderful) but because normally the film I loathe is also the one lots of people like and as a result I feel bad about disturbing a whole row. This time fortune was on my side; only three people between me and the door and whilst it took me half an hour of agonising finding a suitable point to do so, some 45 minutes into Men and Chicken I made like a tree, and fucked off.
Dead By Dawn is the most well behaved trip to the pictures I know, at least in part (I’m sure) because bad behaviour will get you chucked out sans refund. Without wanting to sound like the most pious, self righteous arse in cinemagoing, I don’t annoy people either in my immediate vicinity or in the rest of the screen (or at least if I do I can’t imagine how unless it’s just by existing at all which some people are more than capable of doing, so not completely implausible); I tuck my elbows, use the appropriate drinks holder if there is one and keep my stuff in my own seat and adjoining little bit of floor rather than let my coat sleeves sprawl into anybody’s lap or have my bag trip anyone up. So I’d rather they didn’t do it to me, least of all at £75 per ticket plus the cost of travel to Scotland and four nights in an Edinburgh city centre hotel.
I don’t eat crisps, wrapped sweeties or otherwise noisy, rustly or smelly food but occasionally I drink coffee, which is smelly if you take the lid off. I once – at FrightFest in the Leicester Square Empire days – sat two seats along from a man who brought in and ate a Burger King carryout that would have fed a family of four, and stank the whole room out with it for the best part of an hour until the air conditioning (which anybody who ever sat in the original Empire One when it wasn’t that full and wound up wishing they’d brought a flask, hot water bottle and a blanket will remember well) finally dealt with it. Then again, that was also the year that a couple of gents at the back got bored during Hammer Of The Gods and decided to crack one off instead, and that somebody else decided it would be a good idea to show Tulpa, presumably as there wasn’t enough comedy on the bill.
Big hit of the weekend’s otherwise thoroughly dystopian theme was We Go On, which I can enthusiastically recommend as it’s in English and therefore there’s a chance it might pop up somewhere – fingers crossed! The Disappearance Of Willie Bingham took my vote for Best Short although not the audience one, and whilst I’d love to post it here so that every else can see how the US penal system will likely end up if enough people are stupid enough to vote for Donald Trump, I can’t find it in full anywhere so we’ll have to make do with Steve Desmond’s Monsters for this years’ DBD clip. Fab (and completely gore free) stuff.
A 7am ride on the tram and a few hours on the East Coast line later started a trip to London, which bizarrely was at least ten degrees colder than Edinburgh although everything was roughly the same price. A brief pit stop on the South Bank and then home, where I have been industriously plugging away at the DIY ever since – advance bookings (or an hour in advance, anyway) have been the order of the day for a change and worst of it is still to come but I’ve promised myself to make a bit more of an effort for the rest of the month, not least because my back hurts and I’m sick of the sight of paint.
Once the place is looking summat-like, new photos! I don’t look any different bar a touch more Nando’s, but an overhaul never does any harm. The football will be upon us in less than a month and I’ll update on availability once I’ve been to WH Smiths, as the latest When Saturday Comes with wall chart included hit the shelves yesterday and I haven’t got one yet.
More soon, definitely! In the meantime if anybody has any tips on self levelling screed I’d be happy to hear them (I’m not kidding).
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