Somebody put something in my drink.

Or at least that's what I reckon after last night's journey home.

Before that, the rest of the evening:

After a long day in the house (mostly spent in bed, sick with booze) and a visit to the Old Blue Last, Stuart arrived and the four of us headed off to the lovely Spiral Scratch Disco. This was not meant to be. There were police all over Muswell Hill which led to a lack of buses. So off we headed the long way round via Krap Yrubsnif to take the tube into town.

Ten hours later, without our free CD(due to not being the first 50 club-goers), we were there having a whale of a time. This is when my drink was tampered with.

I discovered this during the journey home, first when Stuart pointed out what appeared to be Hulk Hogan, in a skirt, pushing a shopping trolley containing a large electric fan on a stand. I then turned my head to the left, only to see Bananaman waiting for a bus. Waiting for a fucking bus while Camden Market burns to the ground. Some superhero.

Went to the new Rough Trade East today. It's not all that. But I did get "Love, Peace & Poetry: African Psychedelic Music" whch will make a nice companion to the Japanese comp of the same name. Go buy 'em - well worth 13 sovs.