Thursday 17/05/07

Today is a very special day. I met my boyfriend, Scott, exactly 18 months and 17 days ago, which gives me the perfect opportunity to share this story on here. I realise my excuses for coming up with stories are getting more and more lame, but that’s the best I can do. So shut up.

It all started on Sunday 30th October 2005 in a very highbrow nightclub called Trade. As you all know, Trade is an after hours club, which means that it starts at 4am on a Sunday and goes on until early afternoon. At some point in the previous century (1990s?) Trade used to be on every week, but now it only happens a few times a year (whenever they run out of money I guess). Trade is famous for playing hard house apparently, but I couldn’t comment on that, I’m sorry but all the clubs with shirtless, muscled, drugged up people seem the same to me and I don’t pay very much attention to the music. There are some survivors from the early days of Trade who still go, but I think most of them are now dead either from an overdose or steroid-induced heart attack.