Another fantastic weekend. Last week I got a text to say I had won a comp to see the scissor sisters at Trafalgar square. So after another Friday firework display (this time it was Frances entry in the firework world cup), S and I drove down to London on Saturday morning.  The battery in the GPS system let us down but somehow we made it to Katie's house in time to enjoy a proper cockney breakfast in the local café, before she disappeared off to a wedding. 

Katie, it was great to meet up, next time we will do it properly.

So after an hour or so chilling out we headed into the big smoke.  We got to Trafalgar square via a stroll trough Crompton street and Leicester square.  It was really surreal being among another 9,000 scissor sisters fans, most of whom were dressed in red,  at Trafalgar square.  We were there a good couple of hours before the band came on, enough time to make a load of 'single serving friends'. We Bluetooth scanned the area to find out what name everyone had given there phone and that's how we met 'Nana moon', a young thin girl dressed as supergirl.

Eventually the DJ went quiet and we knew the band were due, but before that we got the biggest surprise of the evening, they were introduced on stage my kylie minogue, I say introduced but I have no idea what she actually said as we were all busy screaming 'Oh god its kylie'.   The band came on and were fantastic, we were really close and had a great view as they did a set which was half old stuff and half new, not forgetting Ana matronix many ramelings between songs.  The climax of the show was 'filthy georgous' with 2 Napolions on stilts and 2 dancers dressed as the statue of the disabled woman..  By this stage the fountains were full of fans dancing there tits off. After the gig, we were intervied for radio 6 (so noones going to here that) and managed to loose track of our single serving friends as we headed back to Compton street, where we got v pissed at the admiral Duncan, Garlic & shots and GAY (bar).  By the time we got the last tube home we were pissed, so S decided to show off his pole dancing technique.  When we got off at turnpike lane we decided we needed a kebab, a decision that can only be made when rat arsed.  While kebab hunting we passed a bar with its raining men blasting out and a familiar rainbow flag in the doorway.  I was intrigued but S seemed less interested until a skinny man in hotpants, who was standing in front of the flag, beckoned us in along with the words "don't mess with me boy!", how could we resist. So we finished the night off in this cheesy gay bar, fending off scary advances. S (who has recently given up smoking) threatened to tell the sleazy old man I was sat next to, that I was single unless he let me go for a fag.  The bastard.  Thankfully he didn't follow through.

Sunday we spent in a hungover haze while I drove back to bp, via Sunday lunch at S's parents where we rewatched the gig which they videoed the night before. 

 Another fantastic weekend with S, life is good.