ring
Barely emerging from a comatose state due to gay gras mardi pride, which sounds keep going around in my head:
- Je crois qu'on se connait de Paris
someone I knew from Paris recognized me while dancing in the park and came up to say hallo under Dr B.'s jealous glare
- And he covers you with flour / And he always keeps you baking…
The Night will never be the same for David
- What do we want? Muscles! When do we want them? Now!
Who said the
marchparade was devoid of political demands this year? - I must warn you I snore a lot
friend visiting from Paris, just before falling asleep. Yes he did, at least during the first minute, then I fell asleep too and did not hear a thing all night - all you light sleepers who share your bed with heavy snorers, feel free to hate me
- Ammazza quant'è bono! Ma non si vergogna ad andare in giro con i jeans della scorsa stagione?
I have a feeling all the Italian fashion queens in London for Pride had misunderstood and thought this was Prada weekend instead
- When will I will I be famous / I can't answer I can't answer that
Matt Goss performing on the main stage. Well I can answer that, and it's not any time soon, sweetie
- I can't believe they're sold out already!
Dr B.'s intentionally loud fictional phrase as we walked back to the tube station wearing our RVT wristbands at half past two, as we crossed a few hopefuls who were rushing to join the already very long queue
- Let's all go take shelter under Pete Burns' lips!
me, trying to retain some humour when the rain started pouring down
- Do you think Steven Hawking is going to sue because Benny Benassi because he used his "voice" on Satisfaction?
me again, failing to retain some humour and showing some very poor taste when it was obvious that the rain was not going to stop
- I'll sit on your face
snippet of the D.E. Experience version of My Love, recorded with Dr B.'s brand new camera and played back several dozen times since
- Boing. Boing boing boing.
the sound of pecs bouncing off pecs in an incredibly packed DTPM
I'd hit the gym, but cannot even lift my eyelids for more than two minutes. Gone is the time when I could party all weekend and feel fresh as a rose on Monday morning.
Then again, I'll never know, for in my previous moderate, sensible life partying all weekend was an unknown concept.I think I'll just curl up on the sofa in front of tonight's Channel 4 documentary on that man who battered his wife and four children to death before committing suicide. Ah, family entertainment.