Yes I think going to strip pubs is about sex (22nd Dec 2006)

Yes, I think going to strip pubs is about sex. I only enjoy watching a girl strip if I want to f–k her (for those who like dirty talk). There is nothing worse than watching a girl strip who you do not fancy. This is the time to get up & get another drink or go to the lavatory even if you do not really need to go; although, thinking particularly of Sunset, it always looks so rude when a man gets up & leaves his seat as soon as a girl comes on to dance! I try and do it delicately when her back is turned. The dirtiest striptease I ever saw was Hungarian Janet at the *[Hogarthian place]* dancing to Madonna’s Material Girl this year, during her all too brief stay on these shores. I pray for her return in 2007. Nothing else has ever come close to Janet for pure (!) dirty sexiness. It is almost always all in the eyes, I think. You can be watching a dancer and be completely unmoved, but then she looks you in the eye for a couple of seconds, and straightaway you are turned on, as the “smutty provocations” pass between you. But then that is the same anywhere, of course. Tenseness, Eroticism, Repulsive Pathology. 

The plethora of Christmas decorations hanging down from the Queen Anne ceiling made it seem like a tropical whorehouse; oh, I do apologise, HOThouse. Like a mangrove swamp, with the tendrils of fog curling through the door every now & again easily mistaken for steam; if it wasn’t so fucking cold. And it seemed so DARK in there! Obviously the effect of the new lighting. I like dark, so I am all in favour of this. Also, the music seemed louder than I have ever known it. Still not deafening, but louder than usual. In contrast to the Esteemed Maestro I love going to strip pubs at Christmas as they are so packed & the atmosphere is so good, and the Queen Anne was certainly packed. 

And then, there she was, the loveliness that is Ms Adaire. In Santa hat, and little red lacy Santa outfit {Great Tontoolian Marshes! “And those white Martian Princesses have to be seen to be believed!”}. With no disrespect to the other ladies present I enjoyed watching Redd sitting down more than I did watching the others dancing. Why pay to watch? I’d pay to watch her doing nothing. I’d pay to watch her sleep. Still recovering from my Golden Arm excesses of the previous night, and my weakened body already succumbing to a cold, I would not have bothered coming out for anyone but her. I did not stay long & did not indulge in a private dance as the thought of having to sit on my hands when such temptation was right there in front of me was too much to contemplate. I am not that strong.

Not sure why I was quite so depressed after last night (9th November 2006)

Not sure why I was quite so depressed after last night. Felt rejected by —— covering her ears when I asked about private parties, and then by Pamela keep saying no to me, she is busy every day, then when I asked her if she had a boyfriend she announced she had a not-quite a boyfriend, a Frenchman, who she knew from when she first came to England. Did not wake up till 130PM, just in time to head back to Calcutta for four, then the Queen Anne. Clara, Lucy is Giselle from Sunset! Then Redd appeared. My god. She is everything she is cracked up to be and more. Changed into black businesswoman’s jacket and skirt with nothing underneath. I had a private dance with her and she rubbed very hard against me. She is awesome. It will be so long till I see her again. Got to work just before 10. Fairly awful night as can be expected with six pints inside me. 

Arleni, Maira, the unbelievably pretty Sol, Sam, Lena, Michelle, at the Flying Scotsman. And —- who I avoided. Stupidly I went into Sunset Cinema, paid £12, just looked upstairs and downstairs then left straightaway. I was too drunk. Big Naughty Titties is the only title I can remember. Pamela was busy so I sat with maid waiting, She smiled hello when she saw me, in red bra & knickers, & hair pulled back tight. As I said I felt like she would always reject me and it will never happen. “Don’t look sad” she said as I dressed, “I hate it when you look sad” At least I only spent £22 this time. All those gorgeous Berlin whores I could be fucking in Mon Cheri,Golden Gate and Monte Carlo. All those gorgeous Vienna whores. Clarisse in Brussels. 

It is six days till I can misbehave again next Wednesday. Just three hours to get through tonight. 

This day last year I was heading to Berlin for Eugene Onegin at the Deutsche Oper, and going to see the Katarina Wild Horses film in BEC afterwards, and getting so hard it would not go down even by the time I got back to leaf-strewn Ku’damm. How long till I do that again? The thing is I don’t regret spending £12 in cinema Wednesday, I just regret not forcing myself to stay. 

I would like to see Demi again in Peter Street. For that I have to go to cinema first. Just 8 days till —– at the Horse & Groom. New brunette girl in the Calcutta. Thank God a girl at last!

Cannot talk to anyone at work again (6th November 2006)

Cannot talk to anyone at work again. Awful. Want something to happen with Pamela. After all it is Tuesday tonight, so I can possible see her tomorrow. Calcutta, Flying Scotsman?, Sunset Cinema, Lisle Street. Maybe I will give the Scotsman a miss for a week. I do like those long long sessions in the Calcutta. The bigger question concerns Thursday. Do I go see Redd Adaire 4-8 at the Queen Anne?