Gutted

Not only did Radiohead play their long awaited Hammersmith Apollo gig over the weekend that I couldn't go to because I had to come back here, but apparently the Boosh boys were there as well. Damn you Thom Yorke, why must you frustrate me so! Radiohead had better get their arses down to NZ (or at the very least Oz) sometime soon. That's all I'm saying....

In other news, the girls and I, in our efforts to get out and do something different in order to avoid the inertia/boredom that can set in living in Auckland, decided to accompany my parents (yes I know how sad this sounds) to a lovely semi-local chain pub. It was an interesting experience. I'm sure the regular patrons had never seen the likes of us rock on up there. By which I mean (and I am not being vain saying this) we were the hottest women there. So of course we got hit on about 50 million times by the best dregs of men West Auckland can offer. Those of you from the West will know exactly what I mean. You London types, just think of the American road movies with all sorts of redneck/hillbilly types in and you will sort of understand what I mean. My favourite pickup artist of the night was the bloke and his mates who tried to win us with their extremely drunken dancing then tried to talk to us but his speech was so drunken and garbled we couldn't understand a word he was saying.

It was a strange night to say the least, but we now know for sure not to go to the Cock and Bull Lynfield. I will be sticking to Auckland Central from now on.