My weekend cheeriness has diminished somewhat. Last time when I was rambling on about B-Movie I failed to mention how good the rest of the weekend was. Of course waking up chez minusbat on Sat and having him force me to do a month's worth of washing up and destroy godgirl's burgeoning campilobacter factory was a bit grim. But I do love the way he takes me out for expensive sushi and saki and then considers it sufficient repayment of the compliment if I buy him a £3 greasy spoon. He's my kind of cheap date really.
Sunday was memorable because I acheived something I thought was impossible. Not only did I manage, with Gavalu's help, to find a suitable outfit for Torture Garden in a mere three minutes of shopping in Camden (or hell as I prefer to call it) but I also managed to introduce Gav and minusbat properly. Usually the separate parts of my social life remain exactly
- Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah brief interlude to describe the feline lunacy that's occurring in my lounge. My two boycats are having a very sundrenched, lazy game of hiss-chase in their camp, limp-pawed, we-had-our-bollocks-lopped-off-before-we-k
that, as I have a very catholic set friends who just don't mix well. But Gav and Bat, despite being at opposite ends of the male grooming spectrum, got on very well, each commenting "ah, isn't he lovely" when the other went to the loo. The cocktails helped of course. We even speculated what it would be like if we took the Bat to one of our clubs. Queer eye for the goth guy, anyone?
The very act of shopping for clubbing clothes triggered something in Gavalu that made him decide he wished he was going too. We used to be very dressy when we went clubbing together, but that whole sparkly techno era is over, sadly. Be good to get him out posing again, especially in some shiny pvc. He and Koalaboy have been going out for nearly a year now. If they do make it to the full 365 days they will spontaneously turn into a pair of tedious lesbians. As it is all they do together is watch rom-com DVDs. "Romantic comedy", two words to strike horror into any intelligent heart, though not quite as terrifying as "concept album".