What a Week: Part I
Well I don’t know even where to begin, what a week!
On Friday MJ came over so I rushed home, did some shopping and had some tea (not that I remember eating anything) and then a nap. He arrived at about 19.45 and we had a drink at home and then ventured out to Canal Street. We had a couple in Via Fossa, then one in Churchills, one in Paddy’s Goose, one in New York New York, one in the Hollywood Showbar and by this point MJ was beginning to sway and shout and by the time we had another in the New Union, MJ couldn’t even drink it – after 6 pints – what a poof. He was hardly able to stand up and I seriously thought we were going to have to go home.
But he was desperate to get to a club so we went to Cruz 101 and once in there, I sat MJ down with a coke and had him sober up a bit. Then we danced and as usual, MJ seemed to be popular with someone and then wouldn’t you know it, with someone else, and surprisingly he was someone from the White Swan: Dan, the not very nice looking one (not the cute rent boy). It was nice to chat to him and I suggested we meet for a drink. I don’t fancy him in the slightest but he was friendly enough. MJ wasn’t interested so we carried on dancing with them and headed off at 3am, sober but soaked to the gills in poppers.
Saturday and Sunday were very quiet indeed, I can hardly recall really doing anything on either day. I stayed in all day on Saturday and on Sunday I went to Asda and then to Churchill’s. I sang a few songs and had a nice time but nothing of note happened. Something must have happened in Churchill’s but I don’t recall even talking to anyone.
Monday I set off to London and arrived at quarter to five. Had a drink with Vic and Rich and then Nora, Lynsey, Freya, Ray and Nat arrived and we drank in the Tuns till closing then R, L, N, Ray and I went up to the Prince of Wales in Covent Garden and we were joined by Ed, his flatmate and a cute young lad called James I think. We all spent the rest of the night flirting with him and accusing him of being gay – it was highly amusing as he so wasn’t gay at all. Rich and I stayed at Lynsey’s and got there at 03.30 after a marathon wait at McDonalds drive through in a taxi watching the meter go up and up and up as the twats in front fannied about swapping burgers and bags of miscellaneous shite – just get out of the fucking way – were paying for every second of this you miserable cunts!!!!!!!!!
Left in the morning at about half past 8 which I thought would be fine to get to CentrePoint at 09.30 when I thought the course started but then at about 09.15, I checked the schedule and it had started at 09.00. Didn’t even get to LSE till 09.50 and by that point I thought, well if I’m going to be an hour late, is there any point going. So I decided that there was no point and went straight to Euston, rung the organisers of the seminar to say I had food poisoning, bought a mag, a paper, 2 books and a sarnie and got on the 10.35 back to Manchester. Spent the rest of the day on the sofa wanking and sleeping.
Wednesday, I went to see Michelle and newborn son, Harrison. Had a lovely 4 hours there and thankfully didn’t need to touch the baby at all. Not too into babies so keeping a safe distance from it was fine. Then I went for a pint or two to Churchill’s and then went to the New Union.
Tried to drunkenly chat up a nice looking olive skinned guy (OSG), it went something like this:
Me: Cheer up handsome, it may never happen.
OSG: (In broken English) I am not sad, I am looking for my friend, I think he is gone, are you gay?
Me: Yes and my name’s Matt
OSG: And I am Ronnie.
Me: Where are you from?
OSG: Israel, very pretty, but I am here for one year.
Me: Oh you’re here for a year, how long have you got to go?
OSG: One year.
Me: Oh and how long have you been here?
OSG: One year.
Me: Oh, erm, OK. So you’re from Israel, are you Jewish or an Arab?
OSG: Jewish, all Arabs are bastards?
Me: Every one of them
OSG: Yes, they are bastards
Me: Ahem, OK … erm, fancy a fag (he took one and the conversation paused for a couple of minutes)
Me: So are you gay
OSG: No
Me: Then what the cunting fuck are you doing in a gay pub watching a drag queen mime to a camp karaoke song you freaking arab hating nutcase? I’m off to try and cop of with a proper poof not a part time one like you!
Stropped off, went home and ate my own body weight in sandwiches, noodles and other chinese food while watching the Thin Blue Line and Gimme Gimme Gimme (obviously a James Dreyfuss evening on UK Gold) before retiring at 01.45 thinking I was ready for what Thursday would bring with no idea how the week would really turn out.
On Friday MJ came over so I rushed home, did some shopping and had some tea (not that I remember eating anything) and then a nap. He arrived at about 19.45 and we had a drink at home and then ventured out to Canal Street. We had a couple in Via Fossa, then one in Churchills, one in Paddy’s Goose, one in New York New York, one in the Hollywood Showbar and by this point MJ was beginning to sway and shout and by the time we had another in the New Union, MJ couldn’t even drink it – after 6 pints – what a poof. He was hardly able to stand up and I seriously thought we were going to have to go home.
But he was desperate to get to a club so we went to Cruz 101 and once in there, I sat MJ down with a coke and had him sober up a bit. Then we danced and as usual, MJ seemed to be popular with someone and then wouldn’t you know it, with someone else, and surprisingly he was someone from the White Swan: Dan, the not very nice looking one (not the cute rent boy). It was nice to chat to him and I suggested we meet for a drink. I don’t fancy him in the slightest but he was friendly enough. MJ wasn’t interested so we carried on dancing with them and headed off at 3am, sober but soaked to the gills in poppers.
Saturday and Sunday were very quiet indeed, I can hardly recall really doing anything on either day. I stayed in all day on Saturday and on Sunday I went to Asda and then to Churchill’s. I sang a few songs and had a nice time but nothing of note happened. Something must have happened in Churchill’s but I don’t recall even talking to anyone.
Monday I set off to London and arrived at quarter to five. Had a drink with Vic and Rich and then Nora, Lynsey, Freya, Ray and Nat arrived and we drank in the Tuns till closing then R, L, N, Ray and I went up to the Prince of Wales in Covent Garden and we were joined by Ed, his flatmate and a cute young lad called James I think. We all spent the rest of the night flirting with him and accusing him of being gay – it was highly amusing as he so wasn’t gay at all. Rich and I stayed at Lynsey’s and got there at 03.30 after a marathon wait at McDonalds drive through in a taxi watching the meter go up and up and up as the twats in front fannied about swapping burgers and bags of miscellaneous shite – just get out of the fucking way – were paying for every second of this you miserable cunts!!!!!!!!!
Left in the morning at about half past 8 which I thought would be fine to get to CentrePoint at 09.30 when I thought the course started but then at about 09.15, I checked the schedule and it had started at 09.00. Didn’t even get to LSE till 09.50 and by that point I thought, well if I’m going to be an hour late, is there any point going. So I decided that there was no point and went straight to Euston, rung the organisers of the seminar to say I had food poisoning, bought a mag, a paper, 2 books and a sarnie and got on the 10.35 back to Manchester. Spent the rest of the day on the sofa wanking and sleeping.
Wednesday, I went to see Michelle and newborn son, Harrison. Had a lovely 4 hours there and thankfully didn’t need to touch the baby at all. Not too into babies so keeping a safe distance from it was fine. Then I went for a pint or two to Churchill’s and then went to the New Union.
Tried to drunkenly chat up a nice looking olive skinned guy (OSG), it went something like this:
Me: Cheer up handsome, it may never happen.
OSG: (In broken English) I am not sad, I am looking for my friend, I think he is gone, are you gay?
Me: Yes and my name’s Matt
OSG: And I am Ronnie.
Me: Where are you from?
OSG: Israel, very pretty, but I am here for one year.
Me: Oh you’re here for a year, how long have you got to go?
OSG: One year.
Me: Oh and how long have you been here?
OSG: One year.
Me: Oh, erm, OK. So you’re from Israel, are you Jewish or an Arab?
OSG: Jewish, all Arabs are bastards?
Me: Every one of them
OSG: Yes, they are bastards
Me: Ahem, OK … erm, fancy a fag (he took one and the conversation paused for a couple of minutes)
Me: So are you gay
OSG: No
Me: Then what the cunting fuck are you doing in a gay pub watching a drag queen mime to a camp karaoke song you freaking arab hating nutcase? I’m off to try and cop of with a proper poof not a part time one like you!
Stropped off, went home and ate my own body weight in sandwiches, noodles and other chinese food while watching the Thin Blue Line and Gimme Gimme Gimme (obviously a James Dreyfuss evening on UK Gold) before retiring at 01.45 thinking I was ready for what Thursday would bring with no idea how the week would really turn out.
posted by Matt @ 2:00 PM
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