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quote:
Note from Daddy:
We're starting Part 2 of On Tour with DJ Sammy Jo.
Sammy Jo aka DJ Pickles (and his chain smoking lesbian sidekick Nancy Isla) take us along on their debauched travels with the Scissor Sisters and without.
It's way better than "Globe Trekker" on PBS.
If you want to refresh your memory or find out who the hell DJ Sammy Jo is...
Here is Part 1.




Just got this from DJ Sammy Jo and thought I'd share it. This was taken at his gig at Space in Ibiza at noon today. Looks like someone's gettin some serious road pussy!
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Alright, well inspired by Daddy's post from LA I figured I should once again put pen to paper and blahg my latest excursion...

I'm right now at the Thistle Trafalgar Hotel in London which I will say is a prime example of the difference between travelling on the Scissor dime and my own. Sheesh, don't they know a white lady when they see one? Guess not. Anyhoo, I'm located well, meaning right in between my favorite music shops and the pub (Retro Bar- a must for any travellers looking for a good gay bar with no mariah, madonna or whitney). Got in last night and have tonight off before leaving for Lisbon tomorrow. Here we go again...
No rape....yet!

Arriving in Lisbon the promoter picks me up from the airport and takes me to my hotel which is like a mini fortress perched on the cliffs that line the Atlantic. In fact it is some old chateau that has been converted to a hotel with rooms preserving the old world charm of bed chambers. Things were starting well I thought to myself (despite a slight flight glitch but that's boring, or more boring). At night we go to a fab sushi dinner and pop by the club so I can check it out. At the entrance is parked this....

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Apparently they forgo the whole flier thing and just stencil the club lineup on a jeep and drive around. Unfortunately they didn't think to actually drive people to the club IN the jeep. Had they done this there might have been a better turnout. Apparently there were all these other events going on which stretched the small population of Cascais (pronounced Kish Kash) to it's nightlife limits. I never know whether to believe people when they say this, but in this case I choose to err on the side of gullibility. You know, whatever gets you through the job...euros per minute, euros per minute. With an ill thought out wakeup call and no shower I'm racing to the airport to be sure to catch my obviously delayed flight back to London where I am playing at a club called Turnmills for the 3rd anniversary of a party called UP!. I've never played this club but know of it simply because it was the home to the legendary nightclub Trade for many years. It's an institution, but as my friend Tasty Tim described it to me, "Oh love, it's a bunch of sweaty kids off their face on E's going for it. You'll have a blast." Well alrighty then. Taxi!
Exactly! You puta! Wink

So I am in Barcelona now and played here at Razzmatazz on Sunday night for a big biannual queer party which was cute. However my fave part of the evening was afterwards going to one of the best afterhours clubs I have been to called 88 Balmes. It is sick. It´s the size of Eastern Bloc, barely a light, loud music, no air conditioning except by the door, and a backroom as big as my Pride Lounge dj booth (ahem I mean me and Daddy´s booth). A hot sweaty mess it is the most fun to have in Barcelona at a club as far as I´m concerned. LGBT and straight all go there. So going there of course obliterated my Monday but I was able to catch up on sleep which was nice. Now I´ve got 2 nights off here to just chill out and visit friends. I´m contemplating moving here during the winter. Although it would not be very warm it would be warmER than NYC. Who knows...

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