Even more Fringe-ing

Today marked my third serious Fringe show, and by "serious", I mean a performance that a) I had to pay to see, and b) involved neither Star Wars nor Scientology.

Being the ballet lover, Leigh suggested seeing Nijinsky's Last Dance, which turned out to be an excellent idea. I know virtually nothing about ballet, and knew nothing about Nijinsky until I skimmed the Wikipedia article, but this one-man show rightly deserves the stellar reviews it received; the actor is quite talented, and even if the hour-long tale of an insane Russian dancer fails to excite, the actor himself does an amazing job of it. Bless him, he spends a few minutes talking about posing for Rodin, and since this little job was originally done in the buff, the actor stays true to character by stripping. Between the flattering lighting, the light glow of sweat, and his beautifully sculpted body (we're talking Greek statue, here), our Nijinsky more than made up for the warm theater and the rude British people behind us.

Following this, I met Ella for a pre-hand-in celebratory dinner, but alas, our plans for Favorit nachos fell through, as Favorit, for unspecified reasons, is closed until further notice.

Bastards.

We decided to give Frankenstein's a try, and were pleasantly surprised with good nachos, fajitas, and two appearances of the monster. I had yet to see him before tonight, and I'll admit that it's something of a letdown. To be honest, the monsoon at Rainforest Cafe is more exciting than was the monster. Still, I can now leave Edinburgh in peace, having had my full Frankenstein's experience.

After dinner, I finally made it to the Counting House to see Chris McCausland's show, Planes, Trains & Shameful Ordeals. He's the UK's only blind comedian, and he's an absolute riot. Over the course of the hour, he described many of his misadventures, including a drunken night when he forgot his lighter at the bar, then tried to light his cigarette on a George Foreman and ended up with griddle marks on his face. He then tried to light it by standing on a stool and holding it to a 60-watt bulb, but was savagely attacked by a moth and would have fallen had he not grabbed the pull cord. Unfortunately, this cord was attached to a fan he hadn't realized he owned, and so he was beaten about the head by fan blades until he fell off, cigarette still cold. Smoking's bad for you, he cautions, but you're not going to see anyone mention those risks on the pack.