Flower pot men

I probably shouldn't have worn my old man sweater when hanging in Soho with Ben.  

I look like his father.

Generally I feel younger than my 52 years.  This picture is a dose of reality.

Anyway, good times at the Mexican restaurant in Soho.

 Ben is on assignment from the U.S., like myself.  My company is sending over another Yank in a month.  Pretty soon we will have enough to form a cricket team.

I told Robyn, my Australian team member, that I was going out with Ben.  That made her think of the children's show she used to watch, Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men.

Click on the link and watch a few minutes of this.  It is perhaps the greatest argument for cracking down on drug use I've ever seen.  This is creepy.

Spoiled forever

A recurring, and probably boring to our reader(s), is how London has spoiled us.  Jen has mentioned traveling business class has ruined her for air travel.  Taking walks and seeing some of the most iconic statues and museums in the world has spoiled us.

And I've added something to the list.

Getting a haircut and shave at Ted Baker Grooming has spoiled me forever.  Because of the bank holiday and everyone else was doing holiday things, I was able to walk in and get seated right away.  Normally you have to reserve well in advance. 

This is blurry but you get the idea of my pre-haircut werewolf look.

I never got my hair guys name.  That's a dude thing.  We don't need to exchange pleasantries.  Dudes don't do that.

 Lovely experience ... this haircut.

 But not as lovely as drinking an Old Fashioned in between cuts.

I worried I was going to drink hair, but my nameless stylist would pause and hand me my drink.

I want someone to hand me my drink every time I drink from now on.

The most disturbing, and therefore fantastic, part of the even was when stylist guy burned the hair out of my ear.  He held the flame near my head and then slapped it toward my ear.  Whether it worked or not, who cares.  Real men burn the hair in their ears.

The face massage was great.  He was gently rough.  I felt like my face has sagged over the years and it has become rubbery like Jim Carrey.  How do you tighten up sagging jowls?

A couple of times he gave me a two finger whack between my eyes on my forehead.  Jen said he was doing a Three Stooges move.  'Take that porcupine'.  

The guys at the shop were speaking Lebanese and Jen thought they were saying things like 'watch me whack this guy in the forehead' for a laugh.  She was trying to ruin my perfect experience.

Nice try, Jealous Jen.

Here comes the first of my two hot towels.

That's me under the towel, in case you were confused.

That's me again under the hot towel.

I want to be draped in hot towels every day.

Now comes the old timey shave.  My first old timey shave.

 I'm strangely calm and trusting as his blade slides up my throat.

Not a hair was missed.

He was very thorough.

I went with a sexy mussed look.  Thank goodness I couldn't take selfies of my bald spot.

I'm coming back, Ted Baker Grooming Room.

Another day in London with Mr. Dibley

This is what happens when Jen leaves me alone.  I spend the day on a man date with Mr. Dibley

We rode Boris bikes through London.  

Mr. Dibley is nervous.

He was angry when I chose an ill advised path on Oxford Street, riding behind double decker buses and dodging the thousands of pedestrians scurrying in front of our bike.

He was much happier when we parked in Hyde Park for a rest and a cigar.

Dibley giving Happy Cat the stink eye.

Happy Cat is mocking Dibley with a limp wrist.  Stupid Cat.

He wanted to see how his food was being prepared.

He should have stayed at the table.  Nothing he saw made him hungry.

Mr. Dibley keeping his distance from the food.

Po Cha will not be on Dibley's recommended list.  I loved it though.

We popped in the British Museum for a few photos.

It was too busy.  I got some strange stares for some reason.

Dibley pretending he's a viking.

Even best friends have their fights.  We didn't talk for a while after this spat.

But we made up quickly and made fun of the tourists.

Always good fun.

Rakesh says I've corrupted Mr. Dibley.

Mr. Dibley is excellent at hide and seek.

He loves to chase the pigeons.

A man and his best friend.

(Come home soon, Jennie.  And shut up, Fletch.)

It's time for Joey and Trudi!!

Sunday night I hung out with Joey and Trudi.  I wanted pizza but they were closed for Easter.  Thankfully the Chinese don't let religion get in the way of making money and feeding the heathens.

 After taking a couple 'nice' shots I told them to do the acting exercises that Anne Maria taught us at the pub.

Small Face

 Big Face (impressively big here, I'd say)

 Donkey chewing something really tough.  I think Joey nailed it.  

Trudi looks like a cartoon - her donkey would have a tattered hat with one drooping flower on it and a catchphrase like, "Don't look at me!" that she'd say in a dopey donkey voice. But then again, there is a place for that in the donkey hall of fame and I love that she was ready to play along.  Well done to the Trude-ster!

Easter Weekend in London

My last couple of days will seem busy based upon the following pictures, but to be honest I'm just killing time until Jen comes back.  Fortunately I have a good travel companion in Mr. Dibley.

First we went to China Town for some dumplings.

We started with some noodles.

Ah...here are the dumplings.  I can only eat them after I drain the scalding water out of the middle.  I bite an end and drain the water out.  After being in China a couple of times I know that the dumpling can be delicious, but you don't have to be Emily Post in the manner in which you eat them.  Etiquette is tossed aside.

I went to Green Park after buying a Cuban (a cigar, Fletch.  I know where you're mind went).  I watched an entertaining game of football.  I got into the action when the ball bounced off me and my chair a couple of times.

This statue looked a bit like the football match.  Or maybe a bit more rugby.  Wait, judging by the devil's John Thomas the game might be closer to buggery.

This statue makes me think of my mother.  Again Fletch, before you go off let me explain.  When we went to Italy the girls got my mom a little tipsy on vino and she admitted to liking the guys little bums when she went to a bachorlette party and watched male dancers.

Locke, Bacon and Smith.  Sounds like a good name for a pub.

            

 

I went to the Academy of Art to take in the photography print exhibit where you can purchase prints reasonably, I'm told.

It starts next week.  

Jen, where are you when I need you to arrange my calendar?

You can see the look of disappointment on Dibley's face.

                

Even this far away you can tell Dibley's pissed at me.

                 

The Brits love a statue.

 Dibley pretending he is a lion.

I tried to make it up to Dibley about the Academy of Art by buying him a pint and a cigar.

Dibley had me pose as Edward Scissorhands.

We decided to brave the rain and head into Columbia Road Flower market.

We bought flowers.

We got wet.

It's always nice to turn the corner onto our Mews, rain or not.

Hope you had a Happy Easter.