8:35 p.m. - 2004-01-11
the london report
Wow. Once again, I am at a loss with where to start.
I guess last night is as good as anything. After returning from a day trip to Oxford, my friend Michael and I polished off a bottle of Jameson and hit the road in differing directions. I'm still squeezing out of him where he went, but he's being a bit unpleasantly tight-lipped.
I, on the other hand, went to what is often described as the world's biggest and best gay club. This is my story.
Okay, we'll start with the name: Heaven. Bit of a misnomer, mayhaps. It is possible I was just pissed about not having any sweet faggot drugs, but I got really annoyed, after a while. Things started off soo well. I was psyched to be dancing again, in an enormous club, surrounded by British homos. I met a really cute English country boy in the bathroom. He was nice, genuine, tall, smart-ish and had the cutest scar over his right eyebrow. Unfortunately, I got distracted by what I assumed was the prerequisite coy attitude and lost track of him. Part of me said, How can you even be thinking about picking a boy for the night so early? You just paid twenty bucks to get in and get your coat checked! Circulate!
Then, of course, I spent the whole rest of the night looking for him. To no avail. I did get to dance at a sweet club with alternately amazing and irritating music (moving to a different dance floor every time the music sours can be exhausting) for about...five hours? I got hit on by some nice boys, which is an interesting change, but I wasn't feeling it, after the depature of the boy from Plymouth.
I walked home in the rain from across central London, but I at least shook out the booze and cleared my head. I crawled in bed at five-thirty that morning.
I had some wild dreams, brought on mostly by a discussion of "The Multi-Orgasmic Male" on the bus back from Oxford. I'm buying this book as soon as I cross its path. Lemme tell you the fuck what. Goodbye, messy cleanup!
I had a very unusual dream about Ful and Flex, but shall not repeat it, for the sake of decency. Also, I dreamt about another chapter where my flatmate Michael suddenly 'woke up gay' and brought his new boyfriend to meet me at McDonalds. They were both wasted and acting like shits. The boyfriend said something dumb, and Michael threw him onto the table and sidled up to him and said something like, "Ahhh, young love."
I have discovered two new life-consuming obsessions: James Brown's "Big Payback" and Henry Wallis' "Death of Chatterton" (painting).
