To anyone whos been wondering, yes, I get my ass online rather more than the quantity of my journal entries might suggest. However most times Ive been online during the past three weeks its post work and thus Im totally incapable of anything more taxing than sprawling on a heap of cushions with something tall and frosty to keep me company.
This week has been no different. Like last week I worked six nights out of seven, and was in university four days to get as much of my forthcoming end of year projects finished as possible. Oh, wait, I lied. Last week I was in work FIVE nights because I put my steel-toed size five Bunker down hard and DEMANDED to have Friday night off. I got it.
Tonight? Not so lucky.
But this is all about last weekend. Last weekend I went to Implant with a basketful of gorgeous cybergoth friends. I didnt intentionally go with a basketful of friends, but ran into them while sauntering aimlessly about the Canal Street area of Manchester. Together we sauntered some more, and eventually discovered Implant being held in Legends, which is twinned rather charmingly with a gay leathermens club. Legends itself is oft home to gay leathermen too; or at least I imagine it to be, given the amount of chap-bedecked-buff-muscled-moustache posters that littered the walls. It could be some sort of horrible coincidence, but I doubt it. While there I ran into yet more cybergoth acquaintances, including Anima and the ever-gorgeous Asha, and later in the evening both Asha, a friend of mine and I were approached to dance at Replicate! A delicious night, followed by Saturday, which was also rather tasty. Saturday was spent at Sin City, and lo, it was good. I danced and twirled a tad, met up with Anima again, had a friend graphically demonstrate the staining qualities of lipstain, and generally had much fun.
This weekend the best thing to happen will most likely be going to Rockworld tomorrow night and telling my stalker to leave me the hell alone. Again.
Fun Felidae Fact: Gay men in chaps think I'm pretty, and take pictures of me. I think this is possibly my superpower.
This week has been no different. Like last week I worked six nights out of seven, and was in university four days to get as much of my forthcoming end of year projects finished as possible. Oh, wait, I lied. Last week I was in work FIVE nights because I put my steel-toed size five Bunker down hard and DEMANDED to have Friday night off. I got it.
Tonight? Not so lucky.
But this is all about last weekend. Last weekend I went to Implant with a basketful of gorgeous cybergoth friends. I didnt intentionally go with a basketful of friends, but ran into them while sauntering aimlessly about the Canal Street area of Manchester. Together we sauntered some more, and eventually discovered Implant being held in Legends, which is twinned rather charmingly with a gay leathermens club. Legends itself is oft home to gay leathermen too; or at least I imagine it to be, given the amount of chap-bedecked-buff-muscled-moustache posters that littered the walls. It could be some sort of horrible coincidence, but I doubt it. While there I ran into yet more cybergoth acquaintances, including Anima and the ever-gorgeous Asha, and later in the evening both Asha, a friend of mine and I were approached to dance at Replicate! A delicious night, followed by Saturday, which was also rather tasty. Saturday was spent at Sin City, and lo, it was good. I danced and twirled a tad, met up with Anima again, had a friend graphically demonstrate the staining qualities of lipstain, and generally had much fun.
This weekend the best thing to happen will most likely be going to Rockworld tomorrow night and telling my stalker to leave me the hell alone. Again.
Fun Felidae Fact: Gay men in chaps think I'm pretty, and take pictures of me. I think this is possibly my superpower.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
we got a meet a week today if you up for it.
oh yeah and hello!