A full weekend - Sunday
A full weekend - Sunday
Gentle reader,
Every so often fate conspires to make you meet friends that you haven't seen for ages.
I met a friend that I hadn't seen for over a year at the gig on Thursday, and I dumped in to a mutual friend on Sunday.
There I was, walking along Patrick's Street minding my own business, when "You?" "You!" started.
Long time no see and soon it's going to be long time no see for a long time as he's heading to the states (Philadelphia to be exact) to study for a doctorate. He wants to build an Ivory Tower for himself.
My first thought was "you can't be old enough to have finished the bachelors" but there I go. Feeling old again. It's the kind of thing that matches with the phrase, "wait until you have kids" but my thought is "when will I have the chance!)
Anyway, on Thursday Goldbloom asked if I would go to something with him (he needed a wheel man). That something was the Cork heat of Alternative Miss Ireland (AMI).
I'm not too sure of the history of the AMI, so I'm making up something to fill space. The short version is that it's a beauty pageant for drag queens. It's not that simple, one of the winners was a drag king (she dressed up as a man) and last year (I think) the winner was a woman dressed up as a woman. I have no idea if she was playing a character, or being herself.
Anyway, Goldbloom didn't have tickets. So I ended up heading around venues with him. I suspect that was why I was asked...
You see, Goldbloom couldn't resist the opportunity to dress up. Not as a woman, but he did wear a kilt. A kilt with a 70's punk style bondage jacket. Boots with spikes up the front and wrist to elbow leather cuffs. With someone like me at the side wandering around town, I felt like the minder with the stripogram. Actually, he could have done some of that during the evening.
An I'm not allowed to say if anything was under the kilt (I didn't look).
All the pre booked tickets had gone, so off to the queue at the Half Moon Booking office. That was the second surprise of the night for Bambi Thumper was there. Thumper is a bouncer that I got to know through kickboxing and gymnastics (not that odd a combination if you think about it), and I hadn't seen her in about 11 months. Anyway, a quick chat in the freezing cold was held until the ticket agent would see us. (So no good gossip, let alone anything I could pass to you).
With the tickets in our freezing paws, we set off you the front of the Opera House. And another queue. It was freezing. Literally. And stood in front of us were a pair of little old ladies. Now, this is not the first thing I would expect to see at the Alternative Miss Ireland, so full chat mode began.
"My son, Angelique is one of the contestants." this rapping of pronouns is to be expected. Just go with it..
"We came down from Mullingar to see him perform. He's been working really hard at it with his boyfriend, Shelia."
Catherine (the LOL) and the sister arrived in to Cork about three hours before, with most of that time spent trying to find their hotel. They were freezing and patiently waiting for the doors to open. Such is family love.
Also in the queue were another group of people that I hadn't seen for about a year (they were in the same group as Dav and the Philadelphia experimenter).
"Well?"
"George is one of the contestants."
I have no doubt that George will not mind me using her real name. Yes George is female. It's on of those posts. She also happens to be a very good actress and an accomplished improviser (she is a member of Snatch). This means that her character (Virgine A. Lantic) would be a well thought out character full of subtleties.
Yeah right!
About an hour after the queue outside the Opera House began, the doors opened and freezing bodies moved inside.
The show was a mess. Not due to the presenter (Panti is a great host, and I suspect she's been doing it for a while), or the contestants, but the venue.
The Blue Angel (the top bar of the Opera House) has a wonderful view, and a great sound and is a good bar, but it is not designed for a visual medium. The bar is a long rectangle with a huge bite taken out of the middle. The 'stage' the performers were on was at the widest end, leaving most of the audience wedged into the tiny gap on the tooth marks of the bite. This standing only crowd faced a stage, six inched high. Most of the show went unseen purely due to logistics. Someone in the Opera House needs a clout over the ear for this (and there was an empty opera house stage which could have been used. Hmmmh.
To make this brief, the contestants showed up (daywear) to introduce themselves. Then followed a brief chat for a bit of background and banter (the swimwear section) followed by the talent portion of the show (the evening ware). Most of the contestants mimed and / or danced to a backing track. George a.k.a. Miss V. A. Lantic didn't do this. She read a poem, to the tune of John Lennon's Imagine, titled "Imagine there's a Hymen". The originality of the piece (I believe) meant that she won.
So I know a Miss Cork. Her boyfriend was a little shocked (and she was totally gob smacked, until the radio people showed up anyway).
I don't know if she is going to represent Cork at the Alternative Miss Ireland or not (there is something conflicting). I also suspect that I won't be in a position to find out either. Not that I'm going to cry over it. Too many late night are not good for me. besides, Goldbloom had a queue of ladies all trying to find out if he was a Scotsman or not and so I drove and dropped people home.
I still don't know, so don't ask.
Take care,
Will
Gentle reader,
Every so often fate conspires to make you meet friends that you haven't seen for ages.
I met a friend that I hadn't seen for over a year at the gig on Thursday, and I dumped in to a mutual friend on Sunday.
There I was, walking along Patrick's Street minding my own business, when "You?" "You!" started.
Long time no see and soon it's going to be long time no see for a long time as he's heading to the states (Philadelphia to be exact) to study for a doctorate. He wants to build an Ivory Tower for himself.
My first thought was "you can't be old enough to have finished the bachelors" but there I go. Feeling old again. It's the kind of thing that matches with the phrase, "wait until you have kids" but my thought is "when will I have the chance!)
Anyway, on Thursday Goldbloom asked if I would go to something with him (he needed a wheel man). That something was the Cork heat of Alternative Miss Ireland (AMI).
I'm not too sure of the history of the AMI, so I'm making up something to fill space. The short version is that it's a beauty pageant for drag queens. It's not that simple, one of the winners was a drag king (she dressed up as a man) and last year (I think) the winner was a woman dressed up as a woman. I have no idea if she was playing a character, or being herself.
Anyway, Goldbloom didn't have tickets. So I ended up heading around venues with him. I suspect that was why I was asked...
You see, Goldbloom couldn't resist the opportunity to dress up. Not as a woman, but he did wear a kilt. A kilt with a 70's punk style bondage jacket. Boots with spikes up the front and wrist to elbow leather cuffs. With someone like me at the side wandering around town, I felt like the minder with the stripogram. Actually, he could have done some of that during the evening.
An I'm not allowed to say if anything was under the kilt (I didn't look).
All the pre booked tickets had gone, so off to the queue at the Half Moon Booking office. That was the second surprise of the night for Bambi Thumper was there. Thumper is a bouncer that I got to know through kickboxing and gymnastics (not that odd a combination if you think about it), and I hadn't seen her in about 11 months. Anyway, a quick chat in the freezing cold was held until the ticket agent would see us. (So no good gossip, let alone anything I could pass to you).
With the tickets in our freezing paws, we set off you the front of the Opera House. And another queue. It was freezing. Literally. And stood in front of us were a pair of little old ladies. Now, this is not the first thing I would expect to see at the Alternative Miss Ireland, so full chat mode began.
"My son, Angelique is one of the contestants." this rapping of pronouns is to be expected. Just go with it..
"We came down from Mullingar to see him perform. He's been working really hard at it with his boyfriend, Shelia."
Catherine (the LOL) and the sister arrived in to Cork about three hours before, with most of that time spent trying to find their hotel. They were freezing and patiently waiting for the doors to open. Such is family love.
Also in the queue were another group of people that I hadn't seen for about a year (they were in the same group as Dav and the Philadelphia experimenter).
"Well?"
"George is one of the contestants."
I have no doubt that George will not mind me using her real name. Yes George is female. It's on of those posts. She also happens to be a very good actress and an accomplished improviser (she is a member of Snatch). This means that her character (Virgine A. Lantic) would be a well thought out character full of subtleties.
Yeah right!
About an hour after the queue outside the Opera House began, the doors opened and freezing bodies moved inside.
The show was a mess. Not due to the presenter (Panti is a great host, and I suspect she's been doing it for a while), or the contestants, but the venue.
The Blue Angel (the top bar of the Opera House) has a wonderful view, and a great sound and is a good bar, but it is not designed for a visual medium. The bar is a long rectangle with a huge bite taken out of the middle. The 'stage' the performers were on was at the widest end, leaving most of the audience wedged into the tiny gap on the tooth marks of the bite. This standing only crowd faced a stage, six inched high. Most of the show went unseen purely due to logistics. Someone in the Opera House needs a clout over the ear for this (and there was an empty opera house stage which could have been used. Hmmmh.
To make this brief, the contestants showed up (daywear) to introduce themselves. Then followed a brief chat for a bit of background and banter (the swimwear section) followed by the talent portion of the show (the evening ware). Most of the contestants mimed and / or danced to a backing track. George a.k.a. Miss V. A. Lantic didn't do this. She read a poem, to the tune of John Lennon's Imagine, titled "Imagine there's a Hymen". The originality of the piece (I believe) meant that she won.
So I know a Miss Cork. Her boyfriend was a little shocked (and she was totally gob smacked, until the radio people showed up anyway).
I don't know if she is going to represent Cork at the Alternative Miss Ireland or not (there is something conflicting). I also suspect that I won't be in a position to find out either. Not that I'm going to cry over it. Too many late night are not good for me. besides, Goldbloom had a queue of ladies all trying to find out if he was a Scotsman or not and so I drove and dropped people home.
I still don't know, so don't ask.
Take care,
Will
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