Lesbian Discos

Ah, another week, another tale of lesbian bliss – this week it’s the confirmation that Linsday ‘Lez-Lo’ Lohan and Samantha Ronson are in fact knobbing each other. Apparently, Samantha is the husband and Lez-Lo the wife. So sweet. Except Lez-Lo hasn’t actually confirmed this – it’s her close sources who did her this good turn.

Meanwhile I’m still in a whirlwind from the non-stop lesbian party that is my life at the moment. Get this: I have been to TWO lesbian discos in the past week. Last Saturday it was Wish, then on Thursday it was the glorious Ghetto (and in between there was the usual bout of stalking and discussing tactics).

Ghetto is brilliant. Particularly on a Thursday when it’s Miss Shapes – a night of the finest alternative music and alternative lesbians. The average age is probably around 20 and the dress code is Scruffbag. It’s packed full of lezzers – this is encouraged, as the promoter, Sandra D, is a big lez – and it only costs £4 to get in. Can you imagine anything better? No.

I’ve not been to Thursday Ghetto for far too long so this was quite the treat for me. The excitement of it all is the only explanation I can offer for breaking three of my strictest Life Rules:

1. No late nights when working early shifts. Getting up at 6am after two hours sleep is painful.
2. No Red Stripe. For a moment I had two heads, when I got off the tube at Pimlico.
3. No Facebook after 3am and/or more than 20 units. Luckily, this time the ‘I love you your the best’ message went to some long lost chums rather than any dodgy exes or other female objects of affection.

Right now, if I could sum up my life in a music video it would look a little bit like this. Actually, on second glance (at You Tube) maybe this one is more appropriate. Or, if I’m being a bit more realistic, now that I’ve sobered up, this. Original is always best.

And, is the perfect way to ease out of party mode and into a nice quiet weekend in the darkroom, spending quality time with chemicals, lenses and high quality matt photographic paper. Girls? What girls?


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