Feel excited—looking forward this Monday to spending some HOURS in Ciné Paris

Feel excited—looking forward this Monday to spending some HOURS in Ciné Paris, seeing all the stunning window girls of Rue d’Aerschot again and perhaps finally indulging, then trying one more visit to Fifth Avenue. 812am now. Ah a mother and daughter have just sat down at the table opposite me in the Max Lounge (Spanish I think)—the daughter in blue jeans, wild long black tousled hair and black & white striped sweater tucked into jeans and covering gigantic big jubblies, the fact her jumper is tucked into her jeans making them stand out more, no bra I’m sure. I wanted to stay to ogle those jubblies but controlled myself, finished my Red Bull fast and came back to my room. Already, though, that girl is the memory of this holiday.

Since 4am I’ve been sitting up in bed working on SOHO (1999)

Since 4am I’ve been sitting up in bed working on SOHO (1999), putting a lot more material back in. If I am not going to do ANY sightseeing on this trip, and not going to have ANY sex, then let me work hard on my books so I can say I really achieved something on this trip to Brussels. Re-work SOHO, and get ALHAMBRA (2016) published while I am here.#

With the massive black bags under my eyes I do look like some kind of drug addict

With the massive black bags under my eyes I do look like some kind of drug addict; no wonder the German customs guards on the train pull me from my seat, sure they are going to find something; no wonder the man in the little shop over the road looked at me so suspiciously when I went to get my two Red Bulls just now.

Well after four hours drinking in the hotel I was understandably pretty saturated by the time I got up to Rue d’Aerschot

Well, after four hours drinking in the hotel, I was understandably pretty saturated by the time I got up to Rue d’Aerschot. The Judgement of Paris. The window girls were stunning. How on Earth could I choose? Black-haired beauty Cassandra the one who opened her door long enough to tell her name. But—once again I did nothing. A couple of small beers in one of the little cafés between the windows, then back to Brussels Grill, ravenous now, for a steak, then that is it. Stumbled back to hotel, and out like a light. I did wake around 730pm but too hungover to do anything else, then close my eyes and go back to sleep. 8am Monday morning now—my last day. I MUST do something. I will start in Ciné Paris, drink less, and hopefully get up to Rue d’Aerschot in the mood for something. A grey overcast start this Monday—after yesterday’s blazing blue skies.

Plan for today—to Rue d’Aerschot probably

Plan for today—to Rue d’Aerschot probably, back via early Fifth Avenue to Ciné Paris, then early to pass out, so I have time to sleep and then go out again to Fifth Avenue later. I have to find out if it is really terminal or not. Still 1045. In the Max lounge to see the pretty girls passing but will decamp back to my room soon.

Well I have two more days Sunday and Monday to see if Fifth really is now as terminal as it seemed Saturday night

Well, I have two more days Sunday and Monday to see if Fifth really is now as terminal as it seemed Saturday night. If even Saturday night is poor, you have to think that is it—c’est fini; it is over.

A fresh crisp blue sky Brussels Sunday morning. Church bells just tolling on & on & on

A fresh, crisp, blue sky Brussels Sunday morning. Church bells just tolling on & on & on. 1023. On my second beer. Well, what to say about my Saturday night arrival? Off Eurostar at 605pm. In my hotel by 625pm. After just two—two!—small cans of Jupiler straight to Fifth Avenue by 745pm. My God. It feels like the end of the world. Lots of men but just TWO girls. A funereal atmosphere. Depressed. I stayed for five small beers hoping things would pick up after 8, after 9, and three or four more girls did appear but that was it. What the hell has happened to Fifth Avenue? Surely it is the MONEY NIGHT? Where is everybody? And not only were there so FEW girls, they were just dressed shabbily in sweatshirts & sweatpants; normally on Saturday nights the girls all dress up in their finest sexy dresses. Now, no one even bothers. What the HELL has happened? It was so quiet, the manager was sitting at the bar, customer side, most of the time I was there. Shocking. I came back to Ciné Paris for two pretty poor films but the girl in the downstairs film really reminded me of someone (I cannot remember who) so that did at least properly turn me on. To Empire by 9, closed, back to hotel via McDonald’s, back to Empire by 10, open, but unappealing, miserable-looking girls. I left without even finishing my beer. Popped into Anais next door but no girls within and no bar staff, just the manager a few yards up the road on the corner, so I just left and came back to the hotel to pass out. What a miserable Saturday night in Brussels! And I was so excited to  be arriving here on a Saturday night! The best night, I thought!

SOHO (1999)

“They seek to rub my nose in my “shame”; instead I rub their noses in my pleasures….”

SOHO (1999)