Hours spent underground: oh approximately 17
The equation Art + Booze = Happy CJ is never more true than when poverty is thrown into the mix. So, with a famished soul and an empty belly, I made my way along Sauchiehall Street from the depths of despair (Basement Level 2, the Archive) to the Glasgow School of Art Degree Show Opening. The hottest gig in town, the free-est flowing free booze in Boozeville (sort of), and I managed to get an invitation!
We downed as much pink ginger vodka stuff as possible, without looking like gluttons (there are special techniques for this); I reminisced about my art school days; I stopped myself (just) from insulting artists; and I didn't knock anything over.
I wasn't blown away, but then I rarely am at these things. I know what I like and I know it immediately. When I love something I love it and I must know everything and I must get the artist's details so that I can look them up when I get home and I must have a postcard and I must buy the book if there is one. There is nothing like it, but it wasn't happening here.
Nicely tanked up and ready to go, we headed off briefly to Sleazy's for a packet of crisps and a glimpse of my barman, before arriving at Moskito to meet the rest of the gang for cocktailz and archive-related chat (oh yeah!). I didn't really take to the place, but we all took to the cocktailz like flies to a rotting carcass. I believe we bundled into a Bunker and on to some dire dive afterwards where the drinks got cheaper and cheaper, but enough of my rambling.
I will miss Glasgay.
Happy Friday everyone!