Feb 26th - March 4th 2006
Sunday Buckingham Palace
Saturday Queenly
Friday Bush Hall
Thursday Shagged
Wednesday Bush Hall
Tuesday Off-off off
Monday Greenwich
Sunday 11th March
Buckingham Palace, Winter 2007
Saturday 10th March
And speaking of queens who read, and who write, Alan Bennett fans - and anybody else who enjoys a gentle gay-tinged laugh - should treat themselves to a copy of the current issue of the London Review of Books which includes, as a special treat, a piece called The Uncommon Reader.
It's fairly long short story, and not available online unless you pay money, so - against the day that it turns up somewhere as a podcast - you'll have to forage in a biggish newsagents to find it. Worth every penny of £2.99, if only to find out who is speaking to whom in this passage:
Passing her bedroom that night clutching his hot-water bottle, [he] heard her laugh out loud. He put his head round the door. 'All right, old girl?'
'Of course. I'm reading.'
'Again?' And he went off, shaking his head.
(And then, having read it, you might appreciate the sly joke buried in the first few words of this entry.)
Friday 9th March
Bush Hall, Winter 2007
Thursday 8th March
Are you British?
Do you blog?
Have you written anything amusing lately?
(Slightly amusing? Mildly comic? Fairly lately? Within living memory?)
Wednesday 7th March
Bush Hall, Winter 2007
Tuesday 6th March
You'll be wanting to know how, exactly, did I improve the shining hour across my six days of comparative liberty last week.
Did I seize the opportunity to gad across to Paris for a day or two? Did I, at least, get out of the house in daylight and take some photographs? Did I finally get round to doing something about the fact my boiler has been broken for over a year?
Buy some new clothes? Get a haircut? Get my washing done? Cut my sodding toenails? Nah. None of the above.
But I did get drunk every night. That's worth something surely?
Wednesday I stayed in bed all day and then went to Amateur Strip Night at The White Swan (so no change there - though I did drink more and stay longer than usual, chatting to Des until we were more or less thrown out).
Thursday, I accepted Patrick Lilley's invitation to see Tallulah inducted into the House of Homosexual Culture's Hall of Fame, a pleasant enough hour or so but not quite as fabulous as I was hoping for, despite a noticeably high number of gay A-listers (up to but not yet including Alistair, sorry darling).
Friday, I thought about all the exciting bars and clubs I could visit on a new-found night-off. And went, as per, to The Swan, albeit a little earlier than usual - which was good, because it provided me with the chance to get drunk enough to flirt (outrageously by my standards) with an attractive Young Person and his chums (who all turned up again a week later and sought me out, so I can't have been that outrageous). (Must try harder.)
Saturday, I think I bought some food (so the week off was not a total disaster). And then fulfilled a long-standing obligation to re-visit the Joiners Arms, which seemed to have changed not a bit since I was there several months ago: same off-Shoreditch boys with the same tragic haircuts. A few familiar faces however, and some class gossip - not the least of which (you heard it here first) being that The Spiral Staircase has re-opened, with Max back in charge, a rumour I was later able to confirm, though not evaluate, when I tapped on their window and got invited in by Max himself (who noticeably failed to offer me a drink, so no change there then, either).
Sunday was Horse Meat Disco. David was engaged on the other side of town, but Alex was present, as were at least several of the friends he was with. Chatted to Philip, amongst others, and then Patrick appeared, like a cartoon genie (but without the smoke), so of course we all went on to Dorian Gray where, thanks to a couple of drinks tickets, I unaccountably found myself drunk enough to dance very theatrically to a Nick Cave song with the man who manages Popstarz, after which I accepted a lift home from the first minicab driver to approach me, a small asian man who spent most of the journey home telling me what a nice cock he has.
Monday...I groaned a lot. And went, briefly, into the office.(There seems to be an unnatural preponderance of mySpace links in the above. It was that kind of week.)
Monday 5th March
Greenwich, Winter 2007
......previous week
