it's dark, and camden is hot.
isn't it funny to be here, dancing to this?
i stumble across a carpet that has absorbed britpop and nu-metal to the bar that has seen through lager shandies and babyshams, cider and vodka-apple juices. i buy a coke and promptly splash it down my shins. tanned legs don't look half bad, especially in the dark.
where is alex? ok, so much love for alex. and there's marianna in classic little black dress - love love love. what is this song? and what is that?
our new royalty, blu-tacked to the paint careless and carefree: cheryl, maggie and gwen - mid-20th century housewives by name, early 00s vixens by nature. i put one hand on the wall to keep myself steady and begin to slowly peel away maggie with the other. she's coming home with me. i slip her into my bag and disappear into the hot dark london night...