This was banter.
Rooz was arguably the hottest place on earth, and seemed to make me lose my ability to know how much I'd had to drink. My 2 pint limit before going on stage somehow turned into 4, with the 5th accompanying me on stage. Julie's theory of no limits before going on stage was in full practice, and made for some brilliant banter.

The show went well, I think.
Looking out from the back of the stage all I could see were the ear to ear smiles of my mates. This combined with shouts of Jones, J.E.W, Geek, I fucking love you, and a brief discussion about Gary Glitter's level of perspiration in a Vietnamese juvenile prison, turned my usually serious face into one big retarded smile.
Amazing.

Having lost 2 stone through sweating on stage it seemed like a good idea to go with the general concensus and dehydrate myself further through immeasurable levels of drinking. Double whiskey and coke please, as per usual. Plus a shot of tequila, and any beers I can get my hands on. Cheers.

Decided to skip the offer of a club in Hoxton and cab it back. It was a wise move; had I gone to the club I fear I would have missed out on the amazing 'fake sleeper'.
The event was rounded off nicely when I woke up in a pool of sweat and weighing only 6 stone.

More of the same on Friday 21st August at Spice of Life, Soho.