(no subject)
Today was a full day of singing. I awoke this morning at 8.00 to attend the dress rehearsal of the Kate Kennedy Club panto (pantomime) with my troupe, The Other Guys (a cappella group). The runs-through were fantastic. A group of us then went off to sing traditional English Christmas carols to a lovely group of, as they put it, "Golden Oldies" at a local care home as a charity gig with the Lumsden club... whom the panto may or may not have shamelessly lampooned during the performance.
The performance, itself, went splendidly. I don't think, however, that any panto I ever go to will quite match this one for the sheer scope. I know far too many of the lads in the show, I got to sing a solo, and someone threw a pheasant at the performers. That's right, a pheasant. Oh, sure, it elicited an anxious squeal from all "ladies" present whilst garnering raucous laughter from the "gentlemen". It was quite the show.
I did, however, manage to get hit by a tomato thrown at our Musical Director (a member of the KK) and a friend of mine got smacked squarely in the face by another tomato, which did not survive the impact (the tomato, that is).
The group then went back to our fearless leader's abode where, after a lengthy meeting, we began imbibing alcohol and stuffing our faces with pizza; sheer class. Susan, one of my companions from Aikman's (a bar in which I travail) showed up at the door at 00.30 to inform me of some troubling news: someone had absconded with my motorcycle. At least, that's what she wanted me to think. I was not so easily fooled, though... mostly as a result of how she broke the news to me:
S: "So... have you checked your mobile recently?"
*T looks at mobile*
T: "15 missed calls from... you. What's up?"
S: Well, Geoff and I wanted to know if you were wondering if you knew where your motorcycle was."
T: "...You moved it?"
S: Not far. I mean, it was parked outside my house. Geoff, Andrew, and I had been drinking since [13.00] and as soon as I proposed the idea they were all for it. We then managed to get my flat-mates involved."
T: "So... you rolled a 200 kilo motorcycle up the steps into your house?"
S: "No, only into the foyer."
Needless to say the surprise was ruined. I shall have to parlay with the three of them regarding what I treasure and that I would rather they not decamp with something I treasure. Perhaps I should get an after-market front disc lock.
Well, anyway, it's been quite a day. Now I think it's time for me to sleep. Look after yourselves.
The performance, itself, went splendidly. I don't think, however, that any panto I ever go to will quite match this one for the sheer scope. I know far too many of the lads in the show, I got to sing a solo, and someone threw a pheasant at the performers. That's right, a pheasant. Oh, sure, it elicited an anxious squeal from all "ladies" present whilst garnering raucous laughter from the "gentlemen". It was quite the show.
I did, however, manage to get hit by a tomato thrown at our Musical Director (a member of the KK) and a friend of mine got smacked squarely in the face by another tomato, which did not survive the impact (the tomato, that is).
The group then went back to our fearless leader's abode where, after a lengthy meeting, we began imbibing alcohol and stuffing our faces with pizza; sheer class. Susan, one of my companions from Aikman's (a bar in which I travail) showed up at the door at 00.30 to inform me of some troubling news: someone had absconded with my motorcycle. At least, that's what she wanted me to think. I was not so easily fooled, though... mostly as a result of how she broke the news to me:
S: "So... have you checked your mobile recently?"
*T looks at mobile*
T: "15 missed calls from... you. What's up?"
S: Well, Geoff and I wanted to know if you were wondering if you knew where your motorcycle was."
T: "...You moved it?"
S: Not far. I mean, it was parked outside my house. Geoff, Andrew, and I had been drinking since [13.00] and as soon as I proposed the idea they were all for it. We then managed to get my flat-mates involved."
T: "So... you rolled a 200 kilo motorcycle up the steps into your house?"
S: "No, only into the foyer."
Needless to say the surprise was ruined. I shall have to parlay with the three of them regarding what I treasure and that I would rather they not decamp with something I treasure. Perhaps I should get an after-market front disc lock.
Well, anyway, it's been quite a day. Now I think it's time for me to sleep. Look after yourselves.