Heh. Reminds me of the fags in Fifth Element - y'know, the ones that are all filter and no ciggie and are in a red box warning you of imminent death on the wall. (Thanks Alec!)
Being a general exposition of the happenings, unoccurences, and mental processes of one Daniel C Griliopoulos Esq., MA Hones (sheep). Deposit your felicitations in my happy sack: spamdaniel.griliopoulos@gmail.com
3 comments:
I went to Turnmills for the first (and last :-( ) time in aaaaages on Friday, certainly for the first time since the smoking ban.
I have three observations:
i) Altered mind-states are more enjoyable if you can smoke, but less enjoyable if you have to smoke in a cattle pen in the snow
ii) Night clubs are _far too bright_ without the filter of cigarette to take the edge off - turn the effing lights down please
iii) While cigarette smoke can leave clothes stinking and eyes sore, removing it reveals a lingering farty/sweaty smell that is less preferable
Prolly no bad thing that all the decent clubs in London are closing - they're really don't seem very civilised any more.
I have to admit I've come to loathe clubs - I'm alright once I'm in them, but I frankly don't see the point of them - if I want to get drunk and dance with my friends I'd rather do it in my home.
Maybe that's cos I'm in the first stable relationship (yes, I'm fucking a horse) of my life?
I prefer Great Danes: the thinking woman's horse.
(Goddammit - what is it about teh interwebz that encourages me to type everything I think?)
Anyway, clubs are good from a giant laser point of view (giant laser pointer view?), but living rooms are often an acceptable venue for drunken dancing.
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