Find myself a lovely room in a House on McGill, a gay guesthouse, and almost, get a night's sleep.
I'm shattered. Constant clubbing, no naps, and the sharing of water beds with a man who's only very rarely providing conjugal rights has all proved rather tiring. I have Louis Vuitton bags under my eyes.
Promptly crash out for a few, lovely minutes on a bed that doesn't wobble. Then it's more of being out on the town, watching Drag Karaoke and Randall and Matt work out whether they love each other or not.
Share a cigarette with a lesbian huntress from the Yukon. Apparently, they have no daylight for several months of the year.