So Helen and I (as we are in the habit of when a little drunk) have been dancing like maniacs to music that we used to dance to when we were 18 (in a sweaty dirty club in warrington). We were stunned at the similarities between then and now, especially seeing as we are in a different country. Eyes rolling occasionally. French guys. What is the french for GO AWAY and LEAVE US ALONE!
Anyway. Now we are home and listening to the Libertenes because the Truskel (that was the venue) is not only Pete Doherty's favourite parisian haunt, apparently (we are not massive fans, can take him or leave him, but what's good enough for Pete... this does not include heroin), but they played the libertenes... twice... and we danced like fools and sang too loud, everyone could hear probably because the music was not so loud. Anyway, on the long walk home (I cannot move my feet, when they first started hurting I began to dance on my toes, then when the balls of my foot started to hurt I began stamping my feet, then my heels hurt too and now my feet just don't work!)

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