I love Madrid! Just got back from La Paloma. Basically this is a huge fiesta that take place in La Latina, an area aof the city with tons of bars and restaurants. It's like a big latino Notting Hill Carnival except this one goes all night. There's incredible South American street food, music coming from every bar and people are cutting up a rug left, right and centre (doesn't cutting up a rug explain what it's describing perfectly? Love that expression!).
"Such fun!" I hear you cry, and you're right it is bloody good fun. We went last year and drank and danced the night away. This year however, things are a little bit different (the difference being my ever expanding gut). Hence, I'm currently following the Dukan diet to try and shift some blubber in a rush before I have to expose myself for a week in Ibiza. This, tragically, means no alcohol for yours truly until next weekend. A great deal of wailing and gnashing of teeth ensued when I realised I wouldn't be able to lubricate myself in the usual manner. But you know what? I've had so much fun tonight I didn't miss the booze at all.
I may have had a mini (and I do mean miniscule, let's not get over excited) revelation dear reader. Normally in Madrid when you go out, you end up annihilated. Those of you who've been to the city will know that the nights here are loooong and filled with huge amounts of potent booze. My problem is that often, there comes a point in the night when I'm wasted, standing in the middle of a packed gay club and failing to pull yet again. Cue drunken waterworks. Many a time I've run weeping (such a drama queen) up Gran Via cursing life and anyone who gets in my way. The thing is, this didn't happen tonight. There was the usual slew of ridiculously hot, buff guys (namely white vest man, so hot I may cry myself to sleep tonight!). But this time, being sober I didn't have the usual fog and nonsense running around in my head. Don't get me wrong, there's no way I'll ever give up drinking, I'm way too much of a party boy. And I'm betting that as soon as I set foot again in the booze soaked UK my new resolve will evaporate quicker than you can say virgin. But I think there might actually be something to be said for drinking in moderation. Perhaps guys aren't really all that attracted to a gyrating (albeit with amazing rhythm), sweaty mess. Given time, a little bit of Dutch courage and several months (years) in the gym I might even pluck up the courage to talk to the likes of white vest man.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, the super tranny I'm referring to in the title of this post is just that. Walking home tonight with my friend Steph we saw a woman with the most incredible hips and arse. Only thing is, she used to have a penis! Madrid is filled with trannies, I love it! And hot cops? Well, I'll leave that to your imagination.
Isn't this great? I'm learning stuff about myself, you're all learning stuff about me. It's like f-ing Sesame Street!
Night peeps xx
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