Staple
Today, I joined the masses of people carting around computers everywhere they go with a brand new Visor, into which I spent dinnertime entering addresses. It’ll be so nifty to have one repository for the eight billion scraps of paper and phoneno.txt files around various computers. After deplorable kung pao tofu in Burlingame, I headed up to the city and arrived at the Rawhide about 9:40.
Fil and Inhuman were trading off at the decks when I arrived. I was followed closely by Patrick and Gigi. Jori Hulkkonen of Finland began spinning at midnight. Rarely does a DJ compel me so much that I don’t even leave the dancefloor more than once for water. Jori was fucking unbelievable. His garage and deep house style was so incredible that I didn’t even think two hours had gone by when the lights came up. Somehow, I scored a CD, which is astonishing. If you see this DJ on a marquee within a hundred miles, go. He’ll blow your socks off.
Claire just about blew my socks off. I concentrated hard not to get too into her vibe, lest I violate my chastity vow. She was very sexy, a great dancer, and just kept coming back over and singing with me. It was great. Apparently, I should start going to The End Up to dance with her and her friends wherever possible. I might just have to do that.
What an spectacular evening of great music. Wow.