An eclectic kind of music night
Last night I faced the question: what happens when Peter comes home from work, discovers he’s sold a story, and pours an overly generous snifter of porter as part of his celebration? The answer seems to involve dancing to Justin Timblerlake’s I’m Bringing Sexy back in a manner that makes it extraordinarily clear that there is no sexy being brought anywhere in my general vicinity. Through a series of events – relatively sober events, since I stopped drinking after the first class – this led me back some some of the truly tragic dance music of my younger days. Apparently I will still bust a very limp and wheezy move if someone puts on , say, East 17’s House of Love. And I’m still far fonder of the Utah Saints Something Good than is reasonable. ‘Course, this all ended up going nuts to Atari Teenage Riot, so I try not to feel too bad about indulging in a few moments naffness. # I
