||[Dec. 9th, 2007|08:21 pm]
Went to London again last night, coz i wanted to DANCE, and there's nothin happenin round these parts now. I looked on the Time Out website and was excited to see that Horse Meat Disco have a new(-ish) saturday night, every two weeks, in some place at Elephant & Castle. So i dragged my gladrags on, hopped on the bus, drank a naggin of whiskey, and arrived into a moderately heaving throng in a moderately sized club with only a couple of those famed, but elusive, Horse Meat trannies to be seen. The music was deadly though, and it was a better crowd than the geriatric convention that seemed to have chosen sunday HorseMeat for their annual day out when we went in London that time. But the crowd was still a little bit on the older side, and lacking somewhat in twenty-somethings. Undeterred, i continued with my descent into paralytic intoxication and snogged some Swiss guy who, it transpired, was weird, creepy and somewhat unstable. And no amount of blond hair could mitigate any of that. So then i had to try shake him off by flirting with a bizarrely dressed Spanish graphic designer, who was having none of it, and subsequently by flirting with some guy from Yorkshire who eventually dematerialised. Or perhaps i just lost the ability to see straight. I talked to Booby Tuesday for a while and she was really quite personable. And large. Apparently she was giving out Christmas presents earlier in the evening, but alas i missed out, due to a general lack of motor-neuron co-ordination. Here is the Boobalicious one herself, in youtube video format.|
6.30am arrived and i was feeling a bit exhausted from all the disco mayhem, so i had a brief nap-ette on a handy couch, and woke up at 7am, ready to queue outside in the cold and wait for the Tube to start running again. I shoved two bacon/egg McMuffins into my face to sustain me through the bus journey home and seeming moments later i awoke once more in Oxford. And promptly went back to bed, til 4pm.
Now, i'm all packed up and ready to go. (Back to Ireland, tomorrow.) But before that, i have a g'dar date that i must attend to. Saw some more of that Oxfordshire native during the week, but i dunno. I did't hear the chorus of angels singing. Flipside.
P.S. There's something utterly adorable about this guy singing Christmas songs with his cat. I love a man who loves his cat. Whaddya reckon, is he gay? Or just a feline-fancier?