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Jun. 7th, 2010 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeThe weekend was largely uneventful due to me being in work for most of it, but Wolfie and I did manage to go to a wonderful little Thai restaurant in Leeds yesterday evening - after we trudged around Armley in the rain for an hour looking for Polish people. I had a red curry and Wolfie had a green one - both were delicious and merely enhanced my view that Thai food is the best in the world. We had imported Singha so it tasted like the real thing and there was a huge video screen with Thai music videos karaoke style, with Thai and English phonetics on the screen. Working out how the language worked was most interesting.
On Friday I spent the day with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wolfybaby in Manchester, owing to the fact I can get a cheap train relatively quickly from where I live and I sometimes get awkward weekdays off. We hadn't seen each other since November so it was great catching up with her, even though she was an hour late. To fill the time, I went to favourite fetish shop RoB but didn't venture in as it sounded like some scary ass disco was going on - either that or the cages were being used. I then wandered around the Northern Quarter, a place I have rarely ventured in, to find a bohemian paradise of little independent stores and bistro bars. I even spotted a place that sold novelty dildos, a bit like what your aunty would buy, porcelin with little pictures on them that you would find on your granny's mantelpiece. There were some other interesting sex toys in there too but the "Back In 5 Minutes" sign meant I was barred from entering and I couldn't be bothered to wait.
I metwolfybaby in Manto in Canal Street. The vibe was good as we sat in the sun although some drunken Scottish people kept pointing over our table towards some other drunken Scottish people whilst bawling. We had fish and chips in Yates where Skapup and Kiffy joined us with gelatin drinks. These are little pouches of jelly which you can squeeze into your mouth like Lucozade. They are flavoured with lemon but the texture is very much what you get with day-old semen so it kinda loses its appeal quickly. Skapup pretended to urinate with one in the street to see how far it shot out. I was also allowed back into one of the lesbian bars I was inexplicably barred from two years ago. Guess I am not that memorable then. Still, the chat was convivial and predominantly about football, which was good.
After that, the two boys left leaving me alone withwolfybaby . Sick of Canal Street, we went to the Northern Quarter to TV21, a retro rock bar with a scary jungle man in a cage at the entrance. It's a statue rather than a piece of casual racism, don't worry. The delicious Sagres was served from a circular bar dead centre in the room and we both vowed to come back as the vibe was good. We then went to the bar at Victoria Station, whose vibe was far less impressive before I picked up a hot dog and disappeared home.
At least, I would have disappeared home had the train's emergency brakes failed and we were dumped unceremoniously in Rochdale. With an hour to kill and under the cloak of darkness, I discovered there is little more to Rochdale than a road of takeaways and a statue on a roundabout that looks like an upturned bird table. Upon the platform, I started talking to an Indian girl first who wanted advice on how to pass a job interview and then a man who told me he was an airline pilot. Once we were on the train, he told me he was actually a sex shop proprietor and he has now going to give me 50% off on my next purchase when I go down there. So sometimes it's good when trains are delayed...
On Friday I spent the day with
wolfybaby in Manchester, owing to the fact I can get a cheap train relatively quickly from where I live and I sometimes get awkward weekdays off. We hadn't seen each other since November so it was great catching up with her, even though she was an hour late. To fill the time, I went to favourite fetish shop RoB but didn't venture in as it sounded like some scary ass disco was going on - either that or the cages were being used. I then wandered around the Northern Quarter, a place I have rarely ventured in, to find a bohemian paradise of little independent stores and bistro bars. I even spotted a place that sold novelty dildos, a bit like what your aunty would buy, porcelin with little pictures on them that you would find on your granny's mantelpiece. There were some other interesting sex toys in there too but the "Back In 5 Minutes" sign meant I was barred from entering and I couldn't be bothered to wait.I met
wolfybaby in Manto in Canal Street. The vibe was good as we sat in the sun although some drunken Scottish people kept pointing over our table towards some other drunken Scottish people whilst bawling. We had fish and chips in Yates where Skapup and Kiffy joined us with gelatin drinks. These are little pouches of jelly which you can squeeze into your mouth like Lucozade. They are flavoured with lemon but the texture is very much what you get with day-old semen so it kinda loses its appeal quickly. Skapup pretended to urinate with one in the street to see how far it shot out. I was also allowed back into one of the lesbian bars I was inexplicably barred from two years ago. Guess I am not that memorable then. Still, the chat was convivial and predominantly about football, which was good.After that, the two boys left leaving me alone with
wolfybaby . Sick of Canal Street, we went to the Northern Quarter to TV21, a retro rock bar with a scary jungle man in a cage at the entrance. It's a statue rather than a piece of casual racism, don't worry. The delicious Sagres was served from a circular bar dead centre in the room and we both vowed to come back as the vibe was good. We then went to the bar at Victoria Station, whose vibe was far less impressive before I picked up a hot dog and disappeared home. At least, I would have disappeared home had the train's emergency brakes failed and we were dumped unceremoniously in Rochdale. With an hour to kill and under the cloak of darkness, I discovered there is little more to Rochdale than a road of takeaways and a statue on a roundabout that looks like an upturned bird table. Upon the platform, I started talking to an Indian girl first who wanted advice on how to pass a job interview and then a man who told me he was an airline pilot. Once we were on the train, he told me he was actually a sex shop proprietor and he has now going to give me 50% off on my next purchase when I go down there. So sometimes it's good when trains are delayed...
