I got an e-mail from a friend this morning who said he’d stumbled upon a whole range of galleries of Bristol’s gay life. I lived in Bristol for over six years so there are a few (although surprisingly few) familiar faces. The weirdest thing is the ‘blast from the past’ stuff – when I look at pictures like this one and remember that I had a bit of a thing for the guy on the far right, but that I turned him down after months of chasing because he’d been dancing all night and was too bloody sweaty. I must have been mad.
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