"The unofficial word from Kennedy Towers"
Here my show-biz life unfolds. Beware that this is where I say the things that I can't on the official Corporate Entertainers website. (Check it out if you want me as your special party entertainer)

We're talking about persuasion skills, psychology and other things to stroke my ego. Comments are encouraged without any need to register, so go ahead and stroke me...

Grumpy Kennedy

It has been one heck of a week. When I set up this blog i swore that i would never edit it, once a post is up it will not be re-written it will stay. So for that reason I will warn you that what I'm about to say may contain some language you find offensive, it might not I dont know because I havent written it yet. But i've had a bitch of a week so I might just get a little carried away with myself.
So it all started when we arrived in London on Wednesday morning. I know that we are starying at Travellodge Royle Scot on this first night. So we go about asking people for directions to the place and an hour later we are still dragging our cases over crossings, avoiding accidents with cabs and busses and generally getting angry that noone, not even the hotel receptionist who I rang twice, could direct us from Kings Cross Station to their hotel which was at kings Cross. Hmmm.
So we arrive and are excited to cheque in to start on our lovely London adventure. Only to be greeted by a young guy behind the counter who can not make eye contact with me, for some reason and then snarles at me "the rules have changed so you will have to pay an additional £10.00 if you want to cheque your bags in before 3pm. We have an appointment at 2:30. I am deeply shocked by this but hand over my cash.
I get in to my room and I am greeted with 2 single beds. I'm rwenty bloody three years old and me and my aprtner have never slept in seperate or single beds. I calmly went to reception and nicely asked if they could sort something out. The same ignorant littlenumbskull tol;d me there was 'nothing he could dop about it and we should just push the beds together' what an imbosile!

My calm is starting to whither at this point, as you can imagine. I got back to the room and started moving furniture around...remind me what i was paying for again?

We quickly went out and watched the fabulous production of Wicked at the Apollo Victoria. Tess loved it, good job as it was her suprise xmas pressie. After a quick tea in a small Chinese restaurant we headed for the Queen's theatre to see Les Mis.

As you may (or may not) know, Les Misterables is my all time fav show. I love it wish a passion. The show began and very quickly I notivced that the advertised lead John Owen Jones was not playing Val-Jean. Instead the part of the matyure man who has been through pain and anguish was being played by a young guy. I wanted to give him a chance.

I did. Then when act 2 came about and he broke in to the infamous Brig Him Home, I was left shiverring. The last note of the song is a high one and one that leaves the audience in stunned silence. Normally. My question is this.

If you have to cast the west end production, the difinitive version of Les Mis as people will pay in excess of £50 for, the one that they will use as a reference for what the production IS...why in the name of Jesus himself would you cast someone who can NOT reach the notes?

You have the choice of thousands of unemployed actors, singers and you choose the one that cant reach the notes as written in the immaculate score. Madness.

Anyway. The rest of the trip was good and the gigs down in the big smoke went very well indeed. Back in the North now, actually in Hexham, Northumberland inbetween a two night run of close up mind reading for company Chirstmas parties.

Speak soon.


Psychological Magician and Mind Reader


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