I went to the tubs in Berkeley last night, an unfortunate decision. Nobody cute, sucky music and a stalker. Over the many, many years I’ve spent wandering aimlessly around sex clubs, the frequent “Oh god why am I here?” nights have always brought to mind two little tunes. The first is the great disco classic Lovin is Really My Game with its brilliant opening line “I can’t catch no man hangin’ round at the discotech” because there are sometimes when the fish just aren’t biting. So to speak. Sing it with me now. There is no night so grim that thinking of that ditty doesn’t lift my spirits. I’ll post it later.