"I'm a Smiths fan, circa 1986"

I have successfully managed to break the crap out of my camera. My lovely, brand new camera. I shouldnt be allowed to play with expensive toys. First drop - Night and Day cafe. Screen breaks. Second drop - Satans. I apparently fuck up the pixels. I'm completely useless. See, this is why I am never having children.

Regardless, I am still using it. Miraculously, it still takes photos. So when I was stood losing my mind at the front of the Tokyo Police Club show last night, I took tonnes. I'll Flickr them later. The singer looks like this:

I had to post that to prove to everyone (especially Sam) that the singer really is the bastard love child of Danny Jones and Johnny Borrell. Hopefully without a pinch of the arrogance. The show was perfect. It reaffirmed my faith that sometimes, the people who recommend new bands to me really know what they're talking about. They opened with Cheer It On, which was genius, as they then officially had the room hooked for the rest of the night. Live, they sound exactly like they do on CD. Such an incredible talent, especially considering the singer doesnt even look like he has reached the latter end of puberty yet. The show was completely sold out, much to the genuine surprise of the band, proving yet again that us Mancunians are the best people in the world at fishing out the best new bands. It also proves that word of mouth is spreading like wildfire for this band, and it probably wont be long until they are selling out the Academy. The crowd were eating out of the palm of their hands, with a bunch of guys even starting a circle pit. A circle pit! In the Night and Day! It was just excellent. Tokyo Police Club are just so undeniably brilliant that there is no way you can have anything but a great time at their show. If that review isnt enough to make you look them up, go and have a listen to their music here: http://www.myspace.com/tokyopoliceclub.

Yesterday also marked a historic occasion - little Nicky 'my face hurts because I'm smiling so much' Vernon turned 21. On Tuesday night, we all surprised her in Font Bar, dressed head to toe in 80's gear, and then took her to Billie Rox (but not before some drunk crackhound had harassed Jenna outside Spar - apparently wearing a Frankie Says Relax tee-shirt means that her name is Frankie and that she sleeps with her head under a pillow whilst writing poetry about boys. True story). Once inside, we exchanged our shoes for roller boots and got skating. Gems and Lindsay got abit cocky and were doing spins and everything, while I decided to play it safe, and wouldnt go on the rink unless I had someone on either side of me to hold my hand. Diane kept trying to re-enact that Jessica Simpson video. Gemma fell over, and would show anyone who would look her grazed knees at any given opportunity. Nicky burnt a hole in my tights, so we ripped it to make it bigger and then made one on the other leg 'to even things out'. Warwick fell over. Gemma broke Robs gun. We had two Pat Sharpe lookalikes in the form of Vinnie and Alex. Everyone had the best time. There's no way you can have a bad night if you're dressed like an 80's throwback and wearing roller boots. There were even poles up on a stage, which we took full advantage of. Later on, I found an unopened bottle of wine on our table. Assuming some invisible man had put it there for our pleasure, I asked the barstaff to crack it open for us and within minutes the entire bottle was gone. Wine always tastes better when it's free. We then went for some dirt food, and then got a taxi home, during which time Diane kept everyone entertained with stories about Brazillian waxes and lesbians who work as mechanics. I think Diane spoke more in that taxi home than she has done in her entire life. Briliant.

I got home, and rather than do the sensible thing of going to sleep, I decided to watch some TV. Skins was on E4, so I got comfy. I am completely invested in Skins now. I thought the first episode failed to live up to the hype, and pretty much wrote it off, but I keep finding myself watching it every week and now I LOVE it. I love Cassie. And Tony. I have improper thoughts about Tony, which is pretty wrong considering he's only 17 and I was in college when I saw him play that kid in About A Boy. But whatever, he's nice to look at. I also love Syd. He's bound to lose his virginity by the end of the series, and I'm dying to know if it's going to be with Cassie or Michelle. I hope it's with Cassie. I want them to get married. Anyways, in my drunken state I ended up watching the same episode twice (good old E4+1) and fell asleep somwhere between 4 and 5. I woke up to see Sambuca stood on my stomach purring away at 9.30am. That damn cat. When she's awake, you're awake, and she'll hear no different.

So that was my week. Tomorrow I'm going to see Foals, who are another great band people need to hear. They're on at the Night and Day and it's only £5 admission so get yourselves down there. Tomorrow is also Friday, so I shall be celebrating with copius amounts of alcoholic beverages. I love Fridays.