Sunday, 2 August 2009


It's at this point that I realise that things have gone slightly wrong. This is because Liam, who is lying next to me, asks me what the time is?
Fuck. On a sofa bed in the lounge of a flat that belongs to lesbians in Brighton.


The story of how I ended up here is a long one and starts, sometime, at Victoria train station.

Somewhere a long the line in Brighton we.. some G&Ts to drink in the park. And then we walk to the grounds where the fun is happening.

Along the way, standing in the window of a backpackers' lodge is a cute guy with a white boa on.

In this picture below, which we'll call Exhibit A, we can Liam showing off the little bombs of alcohol.

Please can we all consider Liam's facial hair. I tell him it makes him look like the Taliban. I'm only joking though... sort of.

Then, this is all a little scatty because er... where were we?!

Oh yeah. We were in this bar - it was a karaoke bar and this old handbag was making a huge fucking noise.

So speaking of old handbags - how many do you think you could make using the leather from this...

I don't even want to know what's in the black bag. A sling perhaps?

The thing with Brighton is that it's the kind of place that makes San Francisco seem like Iran.

Um... what other photos do I have in my bag of tricks? So...

This is the Popstarz tent. I was totally expecting to find London Preppy in here because it's all indie kids dancing to Suede and that guy who's now a little overweight but was with The Smiths.

My stalking gene is crap because I couldn't find him. And the only song I recognised was Hong Kong Garden. And here are two lesbians snogging. Or I don't know if they were a straight boy and girl couple.

In Brighton (this is for you, in America who's maybe never been to Brighton) so there's a pavilion that was once a royal palace and it looks like this...

And then here is the party in the park before it started to piss it with rain.

And these are lesbian smurfs.

I took this because Liam's bum looks good in those jeans.

At some point in the evening we decided to stop random cuties and demand to have our photo taken with them. This is when it started to get messy.

Excuse me bitches but please let's have some respect for my nails in the picture above.

It's Chanel 461 (Blue Satin). Chanel make-up costs the budget of a medium-sized African country but it's worth it. Shitty nail polish like Rimmel just chips and is too runny.

Chanel is like industrial paint and when it's dry you can buff it so that it's almost reflective. Chanel and YSL are the best although YSL don't really do non-feminine stuff.

Anyway, on we plod...

And this is the photo of the night and I'm not going to put silly filters on it so that you can't see the people in it because it would ruin it. (I changed my mind)


So sometime afterwards I ate something that was too hot and I burnt my mouth and dived into the road and scratched my hand and we ended up in this flat and god knows what.

And that's how Liam and I ended up waking up on a sofa bed in a flat belonging to people who I don't know.

And that's the story of Brighton and why, I'm now sitting on the couch typing this while still a little zonked.

Tomorrow a normal service will resume. I feel like all my wires are plugged into the wrong sockets and my brain isn't working properly.

Like I've been slapped with something.

I'm listening to Lucie Silvas. Maybe hanging around with lesbians is why I've taken to this type of music. Breathe In is quite a good song.

Yadda yadda...

Oh, do you want to hear an amazing story?

So we're in this karaoke club and this old fucking carpet is getting annoying by shouting and singing crap...

And the next minute there's a shout from the back and this bird says she wants to have a go.

So the old bin-liner (illustrated above) sits down and this woman approaches the stage and we're only seeing this because we had the misfortune to be standing near the front.

Anyway, this woman says she's going to sing Duffy's Mercy and the song comes on and this woman absolutely fucking belts it out.

She sings it pitch-perfect and puts the fucking sock in. And the whole bar goes quiet and it was astonishing.

Okay. That's really it.

Do you mind if I go? I'll do it quietly.


Stephen said...

It wasn't actually Duffy, was it? That would be classic.

fleetmonkey said...

Thankyou for you very thorough report on Brighton Pride an event 25 miles down the road from me I have never bothered to do.

Did you try Grindr on your iphone during pride - would probably have gone nuts.

About seven o'clock or so my Grindr had a big influx of guys about 4 miles or so away all of a sudden as they were passing on their way back to Portsmouth - the power of gps.

Your stalking of LP at pride suggests he might be back? although I thought he was still down under as it were (thanks for reminding about his blog - can I just let all your pervy readers know he currently has a very nice vid of him in tighty wighties at the top of his blog)

Bobby Cox said...

Stephen: Nah - it wasn't Duffy... the woman who stood up and knocked the club silent was black.

Fleets: Next year you should make the effort.
I shall have to look at this video to which you refer...

MadeInScotland said...

Seems I missed Brighton Pride again...why does no-one tell me it's happening?