Vee I Pee

On Friday I failed to secure entry to a Singalonga Sound of Music, or to a Singalonga Wizard of Oz, so met up with jatb and yidaho at Bellini (again! yummy food) in High Street Kensington (foreign readers: that's near Diana's old palace). They were both incredibly late, so I was wellied on pinot grigio by the time they got there, really wellied.
We got smashed, then attempted to gain entry to a member's club in Knightsbridge (or rather jatb flirted shamelessly, while the rest of us giggled at the bad plastic surgery of the members going in.) The doormen rejected us firmly and repeatedly, but did get us a cab and VIP entry to Funky Buddha in Mayfair.
I think I've read about it before in celeb magazines - the sort of Chinawhite type place that Meg Mathews type C lister slebs go to, and true to form, Hollyoaks actors were w**king on about their careers inside. I'm bloody surprised they let us in, actually, although at #20 for three drinks, perhaps not.
So posh C list celebs - they're all white, they all dress with a lot more care than me, and not a single one of them can dance at all. Nor do they even care!
I got utterly trollied, danced like a loon, then peed on the floor in the VIP lounge. Uncouth? Moi?

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