House of Viicodin Howard

Quote from Britney Speares on Michael Jackson

“If he did those things, I feel sorry for him. I feel like he probably feels alone, and he needs some help. He needs someone to be like, 'OK, let's buck you up, let's give you a moustache, let's rough you up, let's go to a bar, let's get drunk and be a man.' And if he didn't do those things, I feel sorry for him. Either way, he needs to get in a fight.”

If she ever writes a book, I will be the FIRST one to buy it. The funniest part is that there are probably a lot of people in south who agree with her assessment.


Long London Update Part 2

We made our way to the British Museum. The last time I was there, I saw Jarvis Cocker hanging out with his mother and sister, so that, for me, was the coolest thing in the museum. This time, there was no Jarvis so I was left to marvel at history, of which there is a lot. The place is IMMENSE. You start off all excited about looking at and reading everything. A few hours later, you can't believe you're only half through and you start to skim. The Egyptian stuff was really neat. Lots of preserved bodies. Dom wanted to know why no one ever made a zombie movie about mummies (besides The Mummy), and I explained that they remove the brain in mummification, thereby eliminating any future possibilities of creating a proper zombie.
I also realized that probably part of the reason the U.S. is so much more conservative than Europe is because we don't have all the history of people making sculptures and paintings rife with bare genitalia, breasts and erect penises. So when the powers that be in the U.S. see art like that now, they think it's lewd and it's immediately banned. Ah, the folly of youth.

After the museum, we had planned on heading back to the neighborhood that Faye and I lived in. We made a pit stop at an internet cafe to check our email. I sat down at a console and realized much too late that I had sat in a puddle of some sort of milky beverage which soaked me through. Plan b was made and we returned to the roach motel so I could change. I kept kicking myself for not having looked before I sat and Dom told me not to let it ruin my day. We decided to do laundry and stay near the hotel instead and go to my old hood later, so, for dinner, we went to an Indian place up the road from our hotel. I ordered a glass of port and was just getting over feeling silly about the milk when the waiter started shuffling things around on our table and knocked the ENTIRE glass of sherry into my lap. Taking this as a sign to give up for the day, I cleaned myself up a little, we ate our meal, and retired for the night.

We went to the Camden lock to do some second-hand clothing shopping. Dom found a nice coat to wear so that he could retire his North Face jacket for the duration of the trip. (No one wears North Face in London unless they are a tourist or just coming back from a ski holiday). I found a cheap pair of boots but I’m already realizing why they were given away. The zippers keep falling down.
I noticed that loads of places were boasting that they sold magic mushrooms. I didn’t remember this being the case when I lived there. But apparently now it’s is pretty much legal to buy and sell shrooms. Unfortunately, I have memories of an evil shrubbery elephant to keep me from ever trying shrooms again.
In the afternoon, we headed out to Hoxton which is where Faye and I lived. It’s a lot more lively than it used to be. The small juice bar is gone and there is now a Starbucks. The place is also brimming with trendy little cafés. It’s cute, but it’s not the quiet little borough that I remember. It also made me very sad being there, so we weren’t there long. We headed back to central London to catch a free in-store concert at the Virgin Megastore by Idlewild (which was pretty good. Must buy new album). We then ate some pretty good sushi and stopped at the Trocadero to spend loads of money at their version of Gameworks. I can’t believe that most games cost 1 pound to play. I can’t bring myself to convert the amount of money we spent there into dollars.

We hopped in the train to Chislehurst to visit the caves. This was something I knew nothing about. A friend had told me about them and we decided to check it out. They ended up being one of the highlights of the trip. You can read a little about them here. Besides all the war history, it also has a rich entertainment history. Apparently, loads of bands like Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and Hendrix played there in the seventies. Our guide had actually seen the Zeppelin gig. Also, a lot of films and TV shows had been shot in there including an episode of Dr. Who. Our guide also mentioned that he’s a rat owner! He has two rats called Steak and Kidney. Adorable.
We ate lunch in what I assume is the only pub in Chislehurst. I don’t care what anyone says. I love English food. You can’t beat a plate of eggs, beans and toast with a pint at 2:00 in the afternoon.
After the caves, we wandered around the Tower Hill area so that Dom could see the Thames. We happened into a strange little condo community that was no doubt very expensive to live it. It was also very maze-like and it took us a while to find our way out. Help! We’re trapped in a middle-class urban jungle!

As fun as the caves were, they were also full of mildew, pushing my immune system over the edge. I had now developed at full-blown cold. Fully medicated, we wandered around Portobello Road. Fortunately, this being a weekday, no one was there. Unfortunately, this being a weekday, nothing was open.
It is here that I must say that as horrible and corporate as McDonalds is, they are the ONLY eating establishment that consistently has public restrooms open for use without the need to purchase anything. I have to love them for that.
That evening, we met our one UK friend, Tom, at a pub for a drink before the Electric Six gig.
A few feet away, there were two English girls having a drink with their two attractive Brazilian boyfriends. One of them got up to go to the bathroom. When she returned, she found that her bag was missing. Since I am nosy, I was eavesdropping like a bastard. Apparently, she had asked her boyfriend to watch her bag while she was gone. He had not done so, and someone had nicked it in her absence. She had just taken 500 pounds out of the bank. It also contained her keys and her phone. She was crying. He was not caring at all. Meanwhile, her friend was far too busy getting off with her Latin lover to pay any attention to why her friend might be crying. A female bartender came over to find out the trouble. The girl explained her situation and the lady bartender lent her a phone to call her mom. The poor girl retreated to the bathroom to call and cry to her mother while her boyfriend continued to cavort with his friend and watch TV. The girl got a hold of her mom, who was coming to pick her up. Crisis solved, I thought for sure she would kick her uncaring boyfriend to the proverbial curb. But once she knew her mom was on the way, she returned to canoodling position. Now that she was no longer crying, her boyfriend became interested in her business once again. I imagine him whispering into her ear, “Baby, go clean yourself up. I can’t be seen with a girl with puffy eyes”.
Having had my curiosity satiated, we headed to the venue for the show. We missed the first band. The second band was called “El Presidente”. They were kind of a cross between Guns n' Roses and Journey and I thought they were fantastic. The lead singer was wearing white jeans. There was a cute girl keyboard player and an even cuter girl drummer. Rock.
The Electric Six were also amazing. It is impossible to listen to them and not dance like a maniac on the floor. Must get new album.

Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion…