My first Gay Pride in years, so naturally I completely overdo it and surface after three days with bleeding gums, cold sores, no voice, a huge dent in the coffers and an advanced awareness of myself as a member of a globally oppressed minority. Not. The only sensible way to recover is to go to London, which I duly do. There are several things in the world which make me absolutely have to smoke cigarettes; these include Camden Town, my friend Katie, cider and hot sunshine. Because I hate myself but I really want to quit smoking I choose a combination of all four to go cold turkey under. It works, I’ve been squeaky clean since September the 1st. Feels good. And guess what? Tea actually tastes of something! In Camden we attend the launch of Everything Everything’s brilliant LP Man Alive which consists of a fantastic set at The Barfly followed by the boys DJing a load of filthy hip-hop 'n' r‘n’b which I duly nick half of for my next stint at Off The Hook. The next day is more Gay Pride, this time in Hackney, but a proper community affair, diverse beautiful queers marching in sunshine through their own streets, and me with them, as opposed to forlornly watching a Barclays Bank float in the rain from my window which is what I did in Manchester. Later I almost lose my new Fall vest in Vogue Fabrics. This part of the weekend is also the culmination of what I suppose is an internet romance. It involves eating hummus in a flat overlooking Hoxton Station, amazing tattoos, poetry, loads of brilliant music (but especially '100,000 Fireflies'), long lie-ins ... I guess if I cared about such things I’m sure I would say it was pretty special, or something.
Anyway, Kalimera Gleeko …
Hackney Pride
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