Actually that was a brilliant night, mostly thanks to gotharama and Lyle being there - I shall not soon forget the way all three of us sprang out of our seats as if electrocuted at the first bar of 'We Take Mystery To Bed' because we thought it was 'Tokyo Girls', and then decided we'd make it 'Tokyo Girls' anyway. It does me more good than I can possibly express to share my enthusiasm for The Modern with people who really get it, and they do. (If only there were an intuitive graphics program in existence somewhere so my icons didn't suck quite so much. Oh well. I have Modern icons and you don't.) Also Dave, who is lovely, and gave me a Visage DVD that he's made. And good music, too, for the most part; didn't dance as much as I might have, but made up for it by dancing to the long version of 'Wham Rap', which was the gayest experience I've had in a while. Hurray.
Night bus journey back with Lyle featured Yet More Tales Of Modernist Wrong. Hurray for that, too. This time it included the Ringmaster's latex glove-packing factory and an awful lot of double entendre. It passed the time.