Reflections on a 2nd week reviewing the Camden Fringe

There's not been much to talk about this week that hasn't involved 'wanton thuggish violence', the disorder of a feckless sick portion of our otherwise squeaky clean society. Yup, war reigns, bankers bank, Murdoch's still alive, Cameron's at the helm, energy prices rise, so do train fares. The bloody unemployed! They cause us such trouble.

Which reminds, I'm working for free, no income whatsoever, reviewing theatre. I'm am also a sponger, planning on pushing out a kid to double my benefits. Playin' the system, yeah that's me.

All that aside though, to be away from the 24hr rolling news, watching inflammatory rhetoric spill into my room, was needed this past week. The theatre, ladies and gentlemen, was the place to be. Of course I couldn't go if I didn't get free tickets.

Alas, I only had shows on Monday and Sunday. Monday, last Monday, the 8th: I got housemate-James on board and we went Central way. James had a mocha for the first time, 'twas a day packed with adventures like that. Walked from Oxford Street up up through Regents Park, big park, to Chalk Farm. Had some great chips in Chalk Farm and went to the Roundhouse to watch Stand-Up Comics. Review here. Marianne and, eventually, Alex, joined us. Pretty enjoyable show - sitcom through and through.

Went to the pub afterwards, where the news was on. And shit, things had kicked off. If you recall Monday night was the night of London's youth terrorise the communities aaaahh. Watched that over a couple of beers, excellent TV. Then headed home and watched it for most of the night on TV. Compelling television, these guys must have been behind it... They're so good at television. The aforementioned Chalk Farm soon enough had become a bomb-site war-zone. Pretty quiet in Brockley, all in all. Only the foxes roamed the streets, and the locals were reading Dickens by candlelight.

So uh, didn't do much theatre-wise until the next Sunday. On, I think it was, Thursday I worked out how to get my laptop to 'wake up' and automatically start playing Radio 4. This was one of many life-changing experiences of the past week. That and the home-cooked chips I made.

Oh, Thursday night. Pub crawl with the housedwellers. Fine times in Brockley, half a pint in each pub bound towards New Cross. Painted the town red, although it was already pretty red after the riots anyway. An extra coat is all we contributed.

On the way home I bust into a Sports Direct and nicked a ping-pong ball.

On Sunday Chris and I saw two plays. Princess, review here; and the First Supper, review .... .... .. here. Both were pretty good. Princess, heavy, intriguing, true story about a girl waiting for her husband-to-be to return after jilting her. Good use of sound. And The First Supper, really funny. Silly sketches, frozen peas.

And that was it. Two more weeks to go. Or as they say in French - deux more weeks to go.

Allons-y.