The "KR" dinner party- Far too many times we find ourselves invited to that god-awful strip in London for dinner. Whether it be Pucci's, The Pheasantry, Big Easy or the Bluebird (for your higher-end meals) the setting remains the same; stale and moronic.
Those of you who frequently ask their friends to dine here need to re-think their intent. When i accept an invitation to eat i do not expect, nor want, to share my night with a load of pre-pubescents strutting around in attempt to mimic GAGA or Rhianna; Sienna or Kate. Furthermore, when I am outside having a fag between courses the scenes i aim for and look forward to are more likened to that of a bustling city of urban life- full of art, culture and beautiful people. They do not include spotty boys and girls outside bars, pubs and clubs, frantically grinding up against each other in the hope to achieve 2nd base so they can go back to school after Exeat and tell their friends about the delights of the opposite sex's genitalia. Not for me.
(alla Moggy)
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