There’s no better way of celebrating a recent 6 kilo weight loss than with the following conversation. Picture me leaving a gig at a straight nightclub, and running into a particularly blokey punter out the front….

Punter : Hey dj, where ya going?
Seb : Home, I’ve finished for the night.
Punter : What do ya mean going home?
Seb : I’m going, as in leaving here, and going to my house, as in my home.
Punter : Who’s playing now?
Seb : Den is on till five.
Punter : Where’s Simon?
Seb : He doesn’t play Thursdays. He does the weekends.
Punter : He doesn’t play Thursdays? What do you mean he “doesn’t play” Thursdays?
Seb : He doesn’t play here, as in…he just doesn’t.
Punter : How come?
Seb : It’s a different night. Different promoters.
Punter : Different what?
Seb : Promoters. The people who run the night. They’re different.
Punter : Well what sort of night is it then?
Seb (cautiously) : An alternative night.
Punter : It’s not alternative. They don’t play alternative music.
Seb : Mate, it’s not a regular night. It’s a different crowd.
Punter : What do you mean different?
Seb : It’s a gay night.
Punter : A bloody gay night? No.
Seb : Yeah.
Punter : They’re all poofters up there?
Seb : Yeah.
Punter : But you’re not a poofter.
Seb : I am, actually.
Punter : You don’t bloody dress like one.
Seb : (somewhat proudly) I know, but there’s not…..
Punter : You don’t sound like one either.
Seb : (even more proudly) I know, but you shouldn’t…..
Punter : And they’re not fat like you. They’re all skinny blokes.

*sigh*