No one ever refers to having had a really good canoodle last night, yet magazines are constantly referring to this titillating activity.
Well!
I witnessed a bona fide canoodle on my way up Liverpool Street this afternoon. On my way home after lunch, I noticed a pretty, skinny chick in skintight pants and one of those superfluous loopy scarves. And big sunglasses. She looked vaguely familiar.
Then I noticed she was with a vaguely girly guy in equally tight jeans - Omigod, it's Daniel Johns from Silverchair.
I've seen Daniel Johns up close (at Club Kooky, once, briefly) and the man is fucking gorgeous. Seriously pretty.
Anyway, I clicked and was momentarily thrown - the two of them together seemed definitely aware of their impact, which was fairly fabulous. They stopped outside the Darlo Bar and had a flagrant moment of young love (not quite a pash, more a kiss-and-giggle-I-wuv-you-too moment) but then I realised I was staring - at a rock star and his hot new model girlfriend who's totally made him forget all about Natalie!! - so I crossed the street, happy but perplexed.
Men like Daniel Johns totally jam my gaydar.
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