Spangle-babies in a nursery of lust
'Twas Shakespeare at Hampton Court Palace tonight. Marvellous play (Much Ado About Nothing, featuring a finely judged performance by the wonderful Josie Lawrence, of Whose Line Is It Anyway fame), beautiful venue. Seriously awful journey back home. An hour and forty minutes tribulation featuring three buses (one of which I discovered that I really didn't want to be on), a walk, a jog and a sprint (for one of the afore-mentioned buses) and a magical mystery tour (big on the mystery, short on the magic) through large tracts of West London that I can live without ever visiting again.
The title of this entry, in case you're curious (and you must be - with a phrase like that, how could you not?), was derogatory term coined by a poet to describe the overly adorned courtiers who orbited around the palace court in times long past. It's now officially one of my favourite phrases in the whole wide world ever.
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Out of interest, which poet? I ask because I thought I knew 'Much Ado' pretty well and didn't recognise the line and although I don't have all of Shakespeare memorised (because that would be a little sad, even by my standards)it doesn't sound entirely like him. Just interested, is all ... I think I may need to get out more, neh?