Wine out of Plastic Bottles

I was drinking red wine from a plastic bottle around East London, really Shoreditch like, for want of escaping the horrors of the smokers queue outside Vendome in Mayfair. Over-populated with Select models glaring through a theatrical haze; they don't inhale. I felt vacuous, in need of a bit of rough. So it was, I stumbled across Vice Magazine's launch night at The Old Blue. Feeling all the more vacuous for it being near empty- with that "last-orders!" foreboding one detests- I continued to stumble (you don't know when you've had enough until you've had more than enough is our philosophy) into a fellow from Arts London. I was invited to take mephedrone into the wee hours as he rubbed fingers through a greasy mop. Ah the contrast. Just what was needed. But in the end I settled on a one-piece from Perfect Fried Chicken on the East India.

A quiet drink on a Thursday?

Thursdays have become quite a night out for people like us. For the most part it's not the weekend, and the level of expectation that can befall the week-end for being the week-end doesn't exist on a Thursday. But now our likeably quiet week-day haunt, City Arts and Music Project in Old Street (CAMP), part owned by Secretsundaze DJ James Priestly, has become busy and trendy on a Thursday. It's joined forces with First Thursdays- where the galleries and museums of East London open their doors after hours. Meaning our usually chilled bottle of chardonnay is accompanied with various artists "visually articulating an intimacy with their environment". This is great when the time is right but people like us don't want to mix our drinks with the 'sublime'. We like the banality that comes with the bottle of white and don't feel the need to 're-examine our perception of the city' because the white serves us very well in that respect thank you very much.