A Night Out at Crazy Homies, Notting Hill

for Paul:

TheCrabbieOne being her usual crazy self. She's unspeakably lovely in person, and wacky and wild, but not in a 'needs medication adjustment' kinda way ;)

70s and I wore BoPs. Obligatory shoe pic

We met at Crazy Homies. I immediately spotted crabbie & blue wig, which I HAD to try out. (some photos: courtesy of cupid'sAero)

Now, Crazy Homies is in a basement; it's a tiny room and there were a bunch of us. Our half of the place looked like this:

Now, the above ^ might lead you to believe that all we did was talk and drink and drink and talk. And drink. We ate too. Below, my dinner with two of the tribe of Spoons of Doom™

Some of us did some serious posing for pix

I know you've seen this group pic before, but I have to point out TheSkipper, far left, over there who was only wearing a shirt and pullover sweater, whereas I, far right, am wearing about 5 layers of clothing, gloves and a wool hat and was still cold. Hearty folks, those Northerners.

More London Adventures of Pomela Pomelo

In which we learn that Vegetarians Are Mass Murderers!!! The results may shock some. What follows may be too explicit for some viewers. (you have been warned!) Here's my proof:

Tofu, grilled like St. Lawrence of Rome

Plus this:

Plus this:

Provide evidence of vegiplanticide on an unprecedented scale.

.

The final toll also included: blueberries, dried cherries, roasted cashews, chilies, maples robbed of their syrup, sesames toasted and then stripped of their oil. Caught in the plant-thirsty assault was our hero, Paulo Pomelo. When all was done little recognizable remained of him. He was torn asunder scattered throughout the madness. Oh, the horror, the horror! Alas, it didn't end there...

Later today, the hungry assassin (your narrator) assaulted both orange, celeriac, carrot, celery, helpless parsley and dill.

And thus, fair reader, is the sad, sorrowful saga of the demise of Paulo Pomelo, beloved cousin of Pomela Pomelo, newly arrived in London. It was all so yummy!!! Does our heroine stand a chance of escaping the advancing onslaught? Check here for future news.

The London Adventures of Pomela Pomelo

In which she mourns the loss of her dear and beloved sister. Determined to find that eluded her sister, our heroine moved to The Big Smoke to make a fresh start. Shortly after arriving she encountered her long lost first cousin, Paulo Pomello. They easily join a band of merry P-foods (& drink):

pickles,

pomegranate,

potatoes,

peppers,

plum yogurts,

peanut butter,

pears,

Pimm's

pancakes

and of course, The Pomellos

Little did they realize that there is no safety in numbers. A fiery fate awaited them disguised as a heart-healthy brethren. . .

sliced tofu in an overnight marinade concoction of soy sauce, toasted sesame oil, juice of one lime, warm water, sugar, garlic, & one finely chopped tiny, hot, hot, hot chile. (and one splash of worchestershire sauce)

Will our heroine and her band of P be able to escape Fate?? Look for news of the next adventures, here, soon. . .

LONDON: NEW YEAR'S FIREWORKS 2008

I promised London fireworks as my New Year's gift

I spent the last few hours of 2007 with OKC's former sparklingone. We do well together at crowded public events. We met in Pimlico then proceeded to walk along the Thames and across the Lambeth Bridge which gives great views of Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Cathedral as well as the London Eye (a giant ferris wheel with pretty lights on it). We viewed the fun from the middle of Lambeth Bridge.

Now, FIREWORKS!!!

HAPPY 2008, EVERYONE!!!!!

First, Big Ben chiming the new year at midnight. It's short. I got a little distracted and accidentally turned the video off. (click the pictures to see the video. thanks tooslow)

Here are some of the wonderful bits. Pardon the image, it's just a little digital photo camera. *and yes, that's my voice, uggggh BUT the screaming is the people next to us*

And then on the way off the bridge we learned that some people intended on driving in central London on New Year's Eve. Why?