Fag Hag Diary


In which FH explores the new London zenzation Shoreditch House’s rooftop pool…

Go Emmy go

The poor old Fag Hag is still feeling rather the worse for wear today after spending Saturday night drinking like a Glaswegian benefit cheat who’s just won big on the ‘scratchies’.

Scene of the crime was Shoreditch House in London’s glittering Murder Mile and chief accomplice was FH’s delightful pal Tony (better known to his close personal friends as the man who edits wallpaper* magazine)…

As we sipped drinks on the rooftop, I looked around the pool area – and Toto, we weren’t in Shoreditch anymore but in Sitges. Yup, the rooftop at Shoreditch House is gayer than Barbara Stanwyck in leather chaps, but thank god for the gays.

They were the sole saving grace of what is essentially a place filled with more overpaid cunts than the Playboy Mansion. Get thee gone A gays. Leave this sleazy vile place and get back to the safety of The Hoist.

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One comment to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. I was there too on Saturday! One o’ them gays on the roof. Spooky.

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