01.12.05..2:51 pm

It's the first of December and it took my until nearly one o'clock to realise I'd neglected the chocolate feast behind door number one on my Spiderman advent calendar. What does Spidey have to do with Christmas? Fuck all, but I'll be damned if I'm passing up web-shaped chocolate for breakfast.

Franz Ferdinand last night up at Alexandra Palace, words cannot express. My insides kept doing screaming Beatle's fan in grainy black and white. The Editors, the main support were unequivocal crap - a fact they drilled into us via the seweresque graphic hung on a creased banner behind them and through incomprehensible lyrics that all seemed to make references to diahrrea, constipation or piles. Franz though..

I went to see them last year with Matthew. It was seeing them that made me realise there was something more to Matthew than I ever realised. That night I wanted to be kissed and held and touched by him, it was a longing I kept telling myself was merely a symptom of the booze and to keep it to myself. I did, but only for the next three months. What an idiot. Last night, the magic of Franz coursing through my veins, I could have cried with how much I love my dearheart.

I'd been rather terrified they were going to be rubbish having been thoroughly underwhelmed by their latest album, however seeing the songs performed live gave me a new appreication. They are songs to be danced to. They played a healthy mix of old and new, and when they played Michael and This Fire the whole crowd went apeshit.

We had press passes so got to hangout in the after party where I was in licking distance of three of the Strokes and Alex K of Franz. I didn't lick any of them, something I will regret until my dying day. Or until I'm in licking distance of them again in which case IT'S FAIR GAME! You got away once boys, but you will not escape me twice!

Ahem.

****emmms