Gaying it forward

Crikey, what a hang over.

It may be the last day in the office and I may be leaving at midday, but my head is so full of cotton wool and sawdust I might not make it through.

Last night was a blast - Doormouse, Snow and I gayed it forward and showed the moxuals in Soho how to really do it.

We headed to The Yard, Barcode and Escape and drunk lots of cider. There were some bad points: Striding down Old Compton Street to meet the others, I slipped on a banana skin and nearly went arse over tit - in front of some very sexy men; the bitchy DJ in Escape was far from impressed when I performed my party trick (I stood in front of his booth and begged him to put on some garage - he refused); and there were no decent men for any of us to kiss.

I tend to wander around with blinkers on when I go out and so rarely notice the attractiveness of others, but we played a little game in Barcode. The three of us had two minutes to look round the bar to see if we fancied anyone. Before the time was up we all announced there was no one there we'd fuck!

Aside from all that, there were some other points worth noting. I'm not sure what annoyed me most: That we didn't go dancing; that Snow yet again got more attention from the gays than I did; or that my copy of Boyz had the hooker ads and porn pull-out removed.



As an aside, a piece of advice: Should a hang over make you want to kill yourself and you decide to take 6 painkillers before you leave the house, be prepared to arrive at the office with absolutely no idea how you got there.