Before the new toy, though, the weekend.

Fucking brilliant is almost close, I suppose. Finished off a column that I’m actually pretty pleased with, one that’s spitting bile and hate, even by my standards. Look for it on Friday at Ninth Art. Then Saturday evening, it was off to Uptight. I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed a club as much. I used to love The Mission in Edinburgh, but even that wasn’t quite the right music for me. I certainly spent as much (total) time on the dancefloor as I have at any club I’ve ever been to, barring one night at Rock Raider, when I was 17 and had much, much more energy than I do today. Given how hard it is to get me on the dancefloor, this is a serious achievement. They didn’t play every act I’d been looking forward to on the playlist, but that’s just an excuse to go again, in my book.

Sunday I spent mooching about Richmond with Andrew and Andrea. A lovely, relaxed day with fine food, excellent views and good company, although between all the exercise yesterday and the dancing on Saturday, I am now in several kinds of agony. More reasons to get in shape, right there.

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