- I’m wearing shorts from H&M, white Marks & Spencer underwear, a red belt from Duffer, white socks, running trainers. It doesn’t matter what top I’m wearing on the way there, because obviously I check that in the cloakroom as soon as I get in. Here’s an older picture of the shorts I’m wearing on Sunday night, even though I have to say that they are definitely not hanging that low during the night – I have done up the belt tighter
Text sent to Donnell at 2232: First ___ and leave the house
- Scott and I get there and there are huge queues outside, not to mention an infinite amount of people inside
- Less than 3 minutes after going in, somebody licks and bites my chest (right pectoral), but I can’t complain because I half know them
Text sent to Donnell at 0004: Fuck I’m ___
Text sent to Donnell at 0007: Scott tell me I’m a lightweight. I says I can’t handle ___ but at least I can handle ___ well. Scott says, no you can’t
Text sent to Donnell at 0012: It’s very busy. I haven’t ___ any ___ since I left home. I’m staying off ___ thought because ___
Text sent to Donnell at 0059: So this is a first. Frederik is at home but his boyfriend is out. He told him he could come if he didn’t ___ Naturally I told him come find me if the need arises. Feeling better now after that ___
Text sent to Donnell at 0138: Lots of sexy people around. I found Trashy Nick now! Night is looking up
(Trashy Nick is a clubbing friend of ours who’s a professional clubber and always out, and if he’s at a party it’s guaranteed to be a great time – a bit like Fun Bobby from Friends)
Text sent to Donnell at 0212: I’m ___ to the point where I find everyone sexy
From this point on I don’t send any more texts to Donnell because I’m busy stumbling around, looking for people, talking to them for only 10 seconds when I find them, moving to find other people to do the same, walking around to be seen, walking around to see, not dancing, going to the toilet a lot, discussing the blog with people who read it, seeing my bedroom and my bathroom on the big screens in the main dancefloor (the club shot some short films of Scott in my flat to project on the video wall), thinking how weird it is that my bedroom and my bathroom are on the big screen in Fabric, being told by XXX that I come across as a miserable arrogant cunt who looks past everyone, making a note to use this on the blog, looking at my watch and not wanting time to pass, looking at my watch and being over it, forgetting to take many pictures to post on here, apart from these two:
London Preppy and Friend
London Preppy’s Best Brazilian Friend Even Though Verbal Communication Is A Bit Poor
Then at 0600 the place closes and we go home.
Text sent to Donnell at 0716: Just getting home now. Conclusion: not missing much by not going out.
EDIT: You know what? Isn't this the most boring post I've written for a while? It's not funny, it's not entertaining, it doesn't add anything. And this is what clubbing was like. I don't really have any intention to get back into it soon.