A flurry of diary-like entries presented here, named, for mysterious reasons, after classic Soft Rock anthems. I thought I should get something about Manchester and my old life down before I get to New York and cannot be bothered with this old place and the boring old me a moment longer. Things of the following nature have happened in the last couple of months (caution: I name-drop like never before so prepare for hideous CLANG! of minor celeb names hitting blog-shaped buckets) …
… Watched Milk at the Cornerhouse, quite beautiful I thought, fairly sexless which upset Mark Simpson, but to be honest when you’re gay there’s often barely another way to make yourself heard other than bleating about sex, so a good thing I thought. Ruined as ever by heterosexual/ist audience sniggering of course (see also Brokeback). Can’t we have our own cinemas? …
… Drinks at new bars Apotheca (good music if slightly officey crowd and downright mental bouncers checking underneath stall doors for drug users even though it was barely dark out!) and NoHo (cool, East Villagey vibe but big space in the middle with no dancing and no furniture that made we want to FIGHT) …
… Attended my friend Reena’s marvellous R-Themed Fancy Dress 30th Birthday Party upstairs at Revolution dressed as James Dean (‘Rebel Without a Cause’). Managed to sculpt two inch forelock into world’s smallest quiff. Bought gorgeous American Apparel jacket specially (it’s a dear do there isn't it?). Smoked copiously. Finished the night at Kirsty and Keith’s now sadly defunct Are Friends Eclectic? night over at Retro Bar. Oh wait, I actually finished the night in Company Bar where I misplaced my friend’s Trilby then had a prolonged and plastered conversation with the lovely David Hoyle (clang!) all about motherhood and Blackpool and Longsight …
… A right good ‘boogie’ at Underachievers Please Try Harder at Saki Bar, Rusholme, excellent music on both floors but upstairs better, PROPER piss-up, lovely crowd, danced to The Cure with my sister, not done that for ages. Abiding memory is James dropping the same bottle of beer, round about six times. Funny. Oh and bonded with lovely Ruth …
… Watched Milk at the Cornerhouse, quite beautiful I thought, fairly sexless which upset Mark Simpson, but to be honest when you’re gay there’s often barely another way to make yourself heard other than bleating about sex, so a good thing I thought. Ruined as ever by heterosexual/ist audience sniggering of course (see also Brokeback). Can’t we have our own cinemas? …
… Drinks at new bars Apotheca (good music if slightly officey crowd and downright mental bouncers checking underneath stall doors for drug users even though it was barely dark out!) and NoHo (cool, East Villagey vibe but big space in the middle with no dancing and no furniture that made we want to FIGHT) …
… Attended my friend Reena’s marvellous R-Themed Fancy Dress 30th Birthday Party upstairs at Revolution dressed as James Dean (‘Rebel Without a Cause’). Managed to sculpt two inch forelock into world’s smallest quiff. Bought gorgeous American Apparel jacket specially (it’s a dear do there isn't it?). Smoked copiously. Finished the night at Kirsty and Keith’s now sadly defunct Are Friends Eclectic? night over at Retro Bar. Oh wait, I actually finished the night in Company Bar where I misplaced my friend’s Trilby then had a prolonged and plastered conversation with the lovely David Hoyle (clang!) all about motherhood and Blackpool and Longsight …
… A right good ‘boogie’ at Underachievers Please Try Harder at Saki Bar, Rusholme, excellent music on both floors but upstairs better, PROPER piss-up, lovely crowd, danced to The Cure with my sister, not done that for ages. Abiding memory is James dropping the same bottle of beer, round about six times. Funny. Oh and bonded with lovely Ruth …
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