Large Heads and A Small Bit of Mincing

Just back from a VERY successful London trip to watch Broinlaw perform in the West End, highlights including following said Broinlaw around as he searched through the streets of Spitalfields for a hat to fit his GIANT HEAD – honestly, I have never met a man with a head that fits NO HATS.  Why bother with a hat?  Well unfortunately for his latest role he has been ordered to leave his hair long which has caused Floppy Fringe Syndrome, requiring covering, something he is not used to and which he hates.  Hates so much in fact that he tweeted on the very subject, causing the lady who looks after hair and wigs on the show to tweet back, nicely, but firmly, and in a veiled way, that it wasn’t her fault.  See, this is why people shouldn’t tweet.  Their ramblings are either inanely boring or offending, or just pointless.  Lobomonster NEVER tweets.  It is impossible to be witty and meaningful all the time.  I know my limitations.  They are HUGE.  Like Broinlaw’s head.

The only hat I liked fit his head, but cut off the circulation to the rest of his body, which he believed was a problem.   I thought it looked good though, but needing the body to work overruled fashion in this instance.

The show itself was wonderful, made all the better because we secretly agreed that Broinlaw was to do an impression of Papabear, which Papabear does in the pub after Dublin matches, when he is quite drunk.  It is quite mincy and offending, and I find it hilarious.  You turn around, pretending to see what is on the bottom of your shoe, lifting the shoe slightly, and putting your finger to your lips in a camp yet funny way.  Broinlaw promised he would do this in the first scene of the second act, but got so enthused about it all, I noticed him doing it over and over throughout, causing other cast members to look at him quizzically and then copy him.   Papabear was most proud when I texted him afterwards.

Even better were the American couple beside me, who were ENTHRALLED to learn I had a family member in the cast, as the wife in the couple had seen the show somewhere else, had it on DVD somehow and watched it once a week, every week, for some reason.  Squeals were heard after I got a text during the interval from Broinlaw, telling me he would be in a scene next with most of the cast, and would be wearing an outlandish costume, and what it was and where he would be on the stage.  I had to point him out to the Americans, who got quite excited, and scared me.

Broinlaw might be living in London many years but he is still Irish to the core and each morning when we went out to have breakfast we had first breakfast to give us the strength to help us get on the bus and find breakfast.  It was just a croissant, each, but only an Irish person understands the essential act of eating to give you the gumption to go out to eat.  Being Irish is great.

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