Thursday 9th June
Poor me, poor me…. but please, whatever you do, don’t pour me another. Last night at the barbeque I somehow managed to get wasted on a combination of red wine, white wine, rosé and dessert wine. Yep, the full set, and this morning my head feels like somebody opened it up with a tin opener, whisked it for five minutes then closed it back up again, after throwing in some Semtex and a pneumatic drill for good measure. And that’s after I still had enough sense of self preservation in the drunken fug to get some iboprofen down my neck along with a few hefty gulps of water as I finally slumped face down on my bed. So please forgive me for this being a somewhat subdued entry. The hangover has lasted all day and I’ve done nothing except sit on the balcony sipping iced tea, while groaning softly to myself. In fact the biggest exertion of the day was dragging myself back to bed this afternoon for a siesta, which brought me out in a sweat that smelled faintly of fermented grapes.
I should consider myself lucky though, the others were far worse this morning after the night ended prematurely when Handy spiked the punch with Rohypnol to try and get lucky (anyone will do, he’s not choosy, it’s just whoever collapses first) but then forgot he’d done it and drank several glasses himself. I came back from the toilet to find the whole party had collapsed into semi-conscious wrecks and incoherent mumbling. Nothing new there then I hear you say, just another Muck FM gathering I hear you say, but this was worse than usual. A mass barry, and not a pretty sight I can tell you. I’ve seen Handy in that state before so it didn’t take me too long to figure out what had happened. I made sure all the guests got home ok, and no, before you ask I didn’t take advantage of anyone while they were out cold. Except Sandy, whose bag of weed I nicked and replaced with mint from the window boxes. He’s too far gone most of the time to realise at all, and it’s the least he can do after all the stress him and his brother continue to bring into our lives. It’s more like Ruck FM than Muck FM when those two are around…
Shame really, because up till then the night had been a roaring success. The fresh fish and meat were sizzling, and the food wasn’t bad either. We had one of Grim’s CDs on, pumping out summery house music, and the geisha girls were a sensation, with Fifi and Mandy on top form, effortlessly gliding through the men- with several men gliding through them later on. I’ve seen a few of our neighbours today and they all feel rather sheepish at not remembering the end of the night, putting it down to having drunk too much punch- which ironically was actually the truth. Well at least we’ve avoided more arrests and inevitable lawsuits- for now.
I’ll leave you with some potentially good news- tonight I went down to the Palace club and finally found it’s doors open. It was early on, before the club had opened and I spoke to the manager about playing a set. He was a really nice chap, and showed me around the club and the DJ box too. It’s a lovely little club, with an upper balcony level that runs all the way around the dancefloor, and a well kitted out DJ booth too with Pioneer CDJ 800s, a nice mixer and a decent monitor speaker. The manager’s name is Aldy, and he told me that the club has only been open a couple of weeks and that he’s employed a resident DJ for a trial period. He said that the club was empty last week but is hoping things will pick up. He actually put my demo CD on the club system to listen to while getting ready to open and told me he’d be in touch. I’m hopeful of getting to play, however from what I’ve seen of Lagos they aren’t into house music enough here to want anything more than a DJ who plays commercial stuff and party tunes. The mix I gave him was Barbados, which is vocal and uplifting, a good holiday mix, so fingers crossed I’ll get a chance to play. It’s been a long time since I played on a club system and it would be great even if it was to an empty club, or for the warm up set. Watch this space, things are on the up!