I saw a short show I think you'll like about British guns.

 I found this old photo of what used to be the Trocadero. There's a Crystal Maze at the top now, and occassionally I work there. Every Maze Master gets to choose their own costume and I chose pyjamas and a dressing gown. These make the wearer look simultaneously completely lost and completely at home, but I have subsequently remembered it's a costume I've chosen a few times before...

  And it's hard to run in slippers. The best of a number of good things about this job is that you get to share a green room with people who are making things. Our boss recently emailed us details of some of those things, currently being shown at the Vaults beneath Waterloo, and attached was a spreadsheet with thirty-three new works on it. I've only seen one of these so far, this evening, and this is a plug for it. Gang, I think you should go and see "Tuna"! It's on at six tomorrow (Sunday, so okay, today) and then that's it, I'm sorry. But Airlock have made a fabulous thing. Rosanna Suppa's teen narrator makes a divine comedy of the hell of not being listened to, populated by merciless physical caricatures drawn from a life growing up in a house full of guns, which burst out of her like something out of Tetsuo. It's a heck of a dance, but it's also just someone talking to you, knowing you're listening, and proudly asking nothing. Rosanna says here, "A recent audience member described it as ‘like the first time I took speed’, which sounds like a good thing, because the way he phrased it, he’s done speed since." She also says in that interview "There was a person's flesh worth of fish on there'' which is just a phrase I like. God, I laughed. Tickets are HERE. It's directed by Robbie Taylor Hunt, lit by Catja Hamilton, nobody seems to have put a foot wrong, and I hope it happens again.