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Christ's flaming hairdresser: I said it, I did it, and soon I'll be really damn sore.
After standing at a bus stop for half an hour in -18C weather, with the soundtrack to the Gaza strip played by every ten-year-old in the neighborhood's arsenal(!) of fireworks, I met up with friends and got to a drum and bass club three minutes after midnight (new year's in a taxi with The Doors blasting), and danced my bum off until 4, when the club closed. I chickened out of the afterparty, went home and had a nap, during which my bum apparently grew back with more stamina than ever before, and by 9:am (after getting fined €50 on the metro for riding sans billet) I was at the afterparty club with all the strung-out boys and girls, my earplugs lodged so deep in my head they may have pinched my corpus callosum, suffering from loud, bad house music. Around 12 we decided to suffer no more, went and had a spot of lunch, and then went to another day club with less loud, not bad house music from 1:30 until 5, when I decided that even though I was not actually in pain, I probably would be if I continued. And the kicker: stone cold sober. Who knew it was possible? My bum is gone for at least a week, I think.
Oh yeah - 90% of house music sucks - anyone can "dance" to that rhythm especially when a DJ's idea of shaking things up is to mix a new track in so the 1 and 3 beats become the 2 and 4. Yucky. Helsinki needs a mod night. But I had a great New Year's - full of friends and optimism. |
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