(diaryland) July 16, 2002 - 5:49 p.m.

ARG. I keep feeling like I'm disappointing everyone, even when I'm not doing anything particularly naughty. If I randomly fell into halves in the street, someone might like it, though. That would be a sight.

Anyway.

I thought Twister would be a mildly fun nightclub where you could dance to silly songs by boybands. Instead, it turned out to be the place were people go to get their brains exploded by banality.

We got there, and some guys were bopping around daggily onstage for a prize which was a free pass to Twister. YAY!!!!!!!! Then, girls got on stage and their way to win a prize was to kiss each other gropingly to Kiss by Prince. You know, god forbid if like, guys play a stupid game where they have to touch each other in any kind of way. I personally would love to see a competition where guys have to slobber over each other for a shitty prize, but nope. It's only for girls to do so all the 70% of people in the nightclub who are ugly, creepy guys can say, "Hey! We saw girls pashing each other last night! We ROCK!"

Then GODDAMN Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi came on and Rosie and I knew in our hearts this place of doom was not for us. But we gave it a good go. We spent an hour bopping our heads to things like Run to Paradise and Eye of the Tiger, and other such musical gems. One time, they TRIED to play a good song, but the CD fucked up. Disappointing. Apparently Diane had been there and had left about ten minutes before we graced the venue with our prescence on account of being on the verge of tears because it was so crap.

That is how Twister is, man. Rosie and I probably won't be going again.

Anyway, we got each other, and that's a lot for us.

We gave it a shot.

I thought Roland and Tristan might be having more fun than us, but it turned out they'd been accidentally roped into seeing porn films thinly disguised as art which included the fucking of household objects and meat, among other things. Who had a worse night? I do not know.