|
|
---|
Sunday, June 10, 2007
The Darren-esque pre-amble...
£28. Remember that figure. I will be getting back to it later. Hello, it’s Darren again here. Don’t go getting excited because this isn’t going to be a regular thing. I am just so outraged by the aforementioned figure that i had to wrest the computer from Paul to steal his oddly named pre-amble. Our Saturday in London was quite brilliant (remember how to say that? Slightly awed whisper, enunciating each syllable). I drove down while Paul made me listen to various odd cds that he is convinced are the future of pop. Simon Curtis, most likely, but I think he’s way off with his vain hope that Deborah Gibson will make a comeback... poor deluded sod. We parked the car in Bloomsbury Square (I think we saw Phil, but then his jaw dropped to the floor and it scared us so we ran away! Haha) and then Paul was convinced he was headed in the right direction of the hotel so we wandered round in a circle for twenty minutes before I accurately assessed that the hotel was actually about a 2 min walk from where we originally started. We had a quick power nap/shag then went to see Sound of Music, which was actually very good. Except when I accidentally burped at one of the quiet bits and quick as flash turned to glare at Paul along with everyone else. He was not amused. I was. I tittered all the way through 16 going on 17. Then we met up with ace gang Simon and Mark for some drinks before going to see Switch22 at Soho Revue Bar. Excuse my language, but what a load of old shit. The bar not S22... full of pretentious stuck up bar staff who quite frankly acted like cunts. And! AND! Charged me £28 for 4 – 4! – drinks... I still get a bit weak at the knees thinking about it. It didn’t endear to the place in the slightest. Then some poor girl (later revealed to be called Maya) came up to me and asked for a cigarette lighter. I was still reeling from the £28 pounds (that’s$56 dollars, USA fans!) so I said “i’ve just spent £28 on four drinks. Do i look like i can now afford a cigarette lighter. Piss off.” Which may have been a little bit rude, as she didn’t charge me £28. So I went to chat with her, and actually she was quite nice. Then we saw the singer from Switch22 – the blonde one – and he thought i worked in Selfridges!! I don’t work, that’s what Paul is for. I don’t work, I am. Anyway, they were very good on stage, and I pogo’d around like a mental patient. Partly to shake off the shock of the drinks price and partly to celebrate that silly bitch Paris Hilton going back to jail. Mummy, noooooooooo! The man from del monte say yes. Brilliant. Now go ask Paul why he has a sore bumholey today...
Labels: private affair