Saturday, 15 December 2012

Friday Night

Bails and I danced like we were raving in a field with a crowd of mostly men at the Brixton Academy. The air smelt like a men's locker room - sweat and old damp trainers. The crowd tried to recapture their youth with drugs and abandon to an Orbital set and light show. Was fun, although we smelt disgusting afterwards.

On the tube going home four dolly birds who were on their way to a night club tried to catch the attention of the cute guitarist opposite us - quite a bit of swaying over on their heels when the train lurched. He wasn't interested in the blond ringlets, tight shiny leggings or pancake makeup - they looked ridiculous in the light of the tube train but perhaps in a darkened club it would be more subtle.

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