geegee_midnight (geegee_midnight) wrote,
geegee_midnight
geegee_midnight

Imbruglia, Valensi and me

I’m desperately trying to avoid succumbing to the fact that my life is wasting away. I’m going to try to convince myself that I am doing something productive by writing a Live Journal. Which probably isn’t going to help my current situation at all as I should be looking for a job, but my excuse is there’s a power cut in the house right now and this laptop at least has enough battery for me to vent my spleen a while.

So yesterday was a right laff, as I went to see the Strokes in Hyde Park. However, no one told me that a pre-requisite of being a Strokes fan is parading around in orange skinny jeans. Seeing all those frighteningly trendy types wandering around made me feel like a coffee flavour Revel in a bag full of Malteasers. Meeting up with lovely Liz calmed me down enough to eat some Cheesy Chips. They sounded “crazy“, but were actually just chips with some strange yellow liquid poured all over them. Probably melted Lego heads or something. They were more fun than getting refused an over priced beer in the tent thing though. Wasn’t even a pint…

Anyway: music! The Raconteurs were really good, but I think Jack White may be going bald. A minor quibble. I saw the Super Furry Animals for the first time, and thought they were proper wicked, but apparently everyone who’d seen them before said that they were “holding back”. So they must be PROPER wicked on their good days.

And of course then, the beautiful, beautiful Strokes. I wish I was in the Strokes. But I look a bit like Ian Beale, so that isn’t going to happen anytime soon. That said, who the fuck is telling Nick Valensi that his haircut isn’t totally crap? Fair play, he’s got quite a voluptuous mane, but for a bloke I’d go gay for, it makes him look like a greasy BeeGee. Anyway, Strokes get 4 out of 5, dropping a point purely for the dead animal hanging from Valensi’s scalp.

What’s that I hear you say? Did I see any stars? ONLY BLOODY NATALIE IMBRUGLIA! Old Beth from Neighbours stood next to me right through the Strokes set, and was being perved over by none other than the super smarmy David Walliams. Just as I plucked up the courage to offer Miss Imbruglia one of my jelly babys (stolen earlier from the VIP area) a bit of a ruckus kicked off and someone spilt beer all over me and Mr Little Britain. I got soaked. Walliams had a few droplets hanging from his lapel or something, but it still took about 30 minders to dry him off. As was inevitable, they pair were rushed to cover. It seems Natalie and I are forever to be “Torn” apart. Ho-hum.

As the day slipped into the shortest night of the year, I met up with Lotte And Jyotsna, which can only ever result in something wicked happening. Quite as randomly wicked as it turned out to be I did not expect. In a bizarre stroke of luck, we got off the bus and bumped straight into Naomi and co and ended up at the Roxy, which was far more fun that I thought it would be. It was good on so many levels, but to be honest I’m so knackered now I cant remember that much of it. Though I do remember numerous Goldsmith group hugs. By the time I was making my way back with Lotte, having a heart to heart, it was light again. So good fun all round.

Except for what last night I thought was my liver quietly weeping is probably actually appendicitis as I’m in immense pain. And I can’t smell anything, otherwise known as “Nose-Blindness”.
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