B: I just read on Wikipedia that someone said that William Blake was the greatest artist to come out of Britain ever.
J: Are they serious?
B: Better than Shakespeare apparently
J: No. No. Not better than Shakespeare. He’s not better than Tennyson for sure, or Robert or EB Browning. Or Orwell.
B: Not better than John Lennon. Fuck it, Blake’s not even better than Ringo.
There you have it. Blake is not even a better artist than Ringo. Ok, I'm done now.
I suppose you all would much rather hear about my exciting weekend plans. It has been an amazing few days here in bonny England. On Saturday we took a trip out to Portobello Road (Street where the riches of ages are stowed) and walked around for a while. The street is really cool. Because it was a Saturday, all of the shop owners set up tables outside on the street and you can browse to your merry hearts content for just about anything you’d want. Bargaining is key, so it’s a good thing that I’m a savvy shopper. I left with an antique book of the collected poems of Alfred Lord Tennyson and a fabulous dress. It's cool, I'm a stylish English Nerd.
Then that night we all got dressed up and went out to dinner and then to see Billy Elliot at the Victoria Palace Theatre. We had dinner at this delicious Italian restaurant across the street called Prezzo, and I forgot how much I miss pizza. Pizza is so good when done well. I've never been so happy to be geographically close to Italy.