I’m starting to see why I’ve never become one of those people who go out clubbing every weekend, being faced as I am today with the realisation that life can seem a bit crap on the Monday back in work after a heady weekend.

Walking in this morning and seeing Doofus with her summer shirt and smug pigeon expression slapped across her face, sitting there as if she hadn’t left on Friday afternoon… well it was probably the worst comedown I’ve ever had.

But enough about the personification of Valium and onto the night out. While at the club I spent some time chatting to an Aussie bird who offered the following cultural observations on London nightlife:

1) Everyone’s off their face
2) The blokes are really into their dancing
3) Where are all the chiggers?

Taking these points one by one:

1) Probably explains why the queue for the toilets these days is longer than the one to get into the actual venue
2) We live in a post-Bez world. Every bloke must have checked out Bez’s moves and thought if he can get away with dancing like that then I’m up for some of that.
3) ‘Chiggers’ is apparently the colloquial and casually racist Aussie term for Chinese and Japanese people. I have no idea where they could have been that night, although a friend did once tell me that Ministry of Sound is like a paddyfield.

A ‘chigger’ did actually come up to me at one point and try and tap me up for some pills. Whenever someone does this I always wonder to myself whether:

1) I look completely off my face and obviously on something
2) I look like a dealer
3) I look incredibly approachable, friendly, generous and handsome; someone worth talking to and maybe getting some gear off at the same time

She didn’t get anything off me, but I’d have been surprised if she scored at all considering her technique. It was a bit like that Brasseye drugs episode where Chris Morris tries to buy fake drugs from a dealer (e.g. “clarky cat”). The lady recited a string of supposed ‘street’ terms for ecstasy, as if she’d been to a website to check for drug colloquialisms in the hope of looking cool, although it's probably more likely she spent the evening completely bewildering people instead.

Kids today, eh? They talk so hip, man, they’re twisting my melon. Call the copssssss.