Bar two to go


I've got one of the three essays I have to hand in before the end of the year completed, so there's now only the small matter of 4,500 words standing between me and erm... employment. To celebrate, both Corporation and Gatecrasher have enjoyed our presence these last 2 nights... and both had their fair share of very surreal moments.

For a start, there was one of those confusing situations where you think you've seen someone you know, but can't remember for the life of you where. You look again, and they look back, and you try and work out if they've seen you, and whether to nod or smile or wave back... but then they turn away and you're head's full of doubt again. I believe this scenario is documented in a group along the lines of You know when you spend too much time on Facebook when... - it turns out you've just seen their profile so many times, you think you know them. However, this time that wasn't the case. I realised that she (it was a girl) just looked almost exactly the same as one of the spies in MI:High (above, right).

The reason I noticed her is because a bunch of complete scoundrels stole her headband. Off her head. And didn't give it back. And I'm pretty sure they were the same people who later started throwing drinks over us (and others) and then nicked Matt's tie. The bastards.

That was Wednesday night; last night was 'Crasher, and the witnessing of a new dance sensation being born (it was literally sweeping across the dancefloor) as well as what can only be described as an assault by a member of staff on a (admittedly drunk) punter, only for the poor bloke to get chucked out when the bully ran into the staffroom and called the bouncers on him...

- - -

I had a very strange dream last night, too. It carried on from our night out: we all went on to a club, except it was very odd. It looked like an old theatre, because there was just the one dancefloor (that we were on) surrounded around and above by dozens of balconies full of revellers. Then, Colin Fry (the "medium" who prays on the emotionally weak by pretending to speak to their dead relatives for entertainment) took over the floor and started doing a bizarre show that was like a cross between 6ixth Sense and Jeremy Kyle. As if that wasn't odd enough, the winner of the Eurovision song contest followed his act with a rendition of Ms Dynamite's Brother. Bonkers.

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