Wet

Brighton had its White Night night the other night. Good English, eh? It was an all-night mini-festival to celebrate the clocks going back. Its key feature was Wet Sounds, an event where you could go to the Prince Regent Swimming Pool and float about listening to underwater music.

What a great idea! I went along with the idea of relaxing in warm water while basslines washed over me. I expected a near-outerbody experience in the dark, serene waters of the swimming pool.

Instead I froze my arse off in a puddle of chlorinated piss listening to the underwater sound of a clock being wound up – as amplified through a tin can – mixed with the sound of a whistle being blown every ten seconds while hundreds of pissed-up, middle class wankers threw rubber ducks at each other like it was a fucking kiddies pool party and I was nine.

Who the hell thought this would be a good idea?

Chews

I was in the pet shop buying dog chews. When I went to the counter, a woman next to me saw the chews and said "Ooh, are they for your dog?".
"No, they're for me", I said with a smile on my face.
"Are they?!" she said, her eyebrows arching upwards.
The joke had gone too far to pull out of now. I looked up at the girl serving me hoping for a smile to ingratiate her with the gag but she neither cared if I ate dog chews or was being mildly amusing.
"Erm... yes", I said.
I paid for my dog chews and walked out.

Email

I just found this email which I sent to the band I was in years ago after I DJed for them downstairs at the Volks Club in Brighton once. It's quite funny I think:

Thanks for Friday night. I enjoyed being told by a 12 year old with a Burberry cap that I couldn't mix and that I was shit and that he could do much better. I also enjoyed it when an 11 year old with a puffer jacket plugged a microphone in and tried to MC, even though the microphone made the soundsystem buzz which in turn made the bar manager come over and have a go at me! You really don't know what you were missing up there!