Scally-tastic

I think if you hate Mondays as much as I do, you should always go out after work and then you can forget just what a miserable day it is. So last night I did just that.

Being a big fan of MySpace, I saw details of an event in Covent Garden and I thought it was high time I started living spontaneously. I sent Snow a text asking her to meet me there and completely off the cuff, we did it.

The artist in question is a garage singer-producer called Jay Harvey and he makes tunes in the vocal bouncy style we loved so much a few years ago. You could be forgiven for thinking garage is dead if you listen to mainstream radio, but Jay is the darling of the pirate stations and he is something of a God.

We did have to sit through three other unsigned acts before Jay came on stage - one girl in a red dress warbling like a madwoman, a boy band from Blackpool (say no more) and a girl/guy combo who would've looked more at home with her taking him off into a booth at Spearmint Rhino for a 'private dance' - but when he did, he sent shivers up and down my spine.

Aside from the fact that his tunes were breathtaking and his voice was amazing, he is every inch the scally. Not adverse to a drop of sportswear, he has 'the accent' - probably from Canning Town - and oozes rugged, manly charm. And as he was the headline star, there were plenty of other scallies floating around: Skin heads; chiselled jaw lines; and more packets of B&H than you could shake a stick at.

I know that neither me nor Snow fit in with the scally/garage crowd because, like, we wash, but the music makes us feel alive and the men make us feel hot, hot, HOT!

Of course, this preoccupation with ultra-heterosexual garage loving builders and plasterers could go some way to explain my continued single status.