Sixties Night

A lot of love in the Pav Tav last night, oi oi. I was told I was "throwing good shapes." Score.

Had to ride the Nightbus on my own, though Joe didn't weasel his way out of walking me to the stop. Oh well the journey alone wasn't too grim, and at least we got to have a little chat on the way to the seafront. Walking through Haywards Heath at 3am is an odd experience. On the walk home I saw a tree hanging over the pavement covered in big petals, and underneath it fallen petals had made a little blanket, and I was so tempted to curl up there and sleep. But in the morning the magic would have dissipated and small children would start pelting me with rocks.

In other news, The Pope died last night. Gemma texted me saying "I hope you're happy!"

Get Your Pope Name!

Three people have offered me the job of Pope. Admittedly, none of them were in a position of power within the Vatican, but with that show of support I'm thinking of standing for election.

(What? The Pope is an unelected figurehead, you say? Yet has the power of life and death over millions of Catholics worldwide? And in the case of Third World converts in AIDS-ravaged countries the ban on contraception truly is a matter of life and death? And as a woman there's no way I'd be considered for the job anyway? Are you sure? Can that archaic system really be in place in Twenty First Century Europe? It can? Well I never. I thought we did away with gunff like that when we got rid of the Monarchy. What's that, you say? We only went and bloody well asked them back? Oh for fuck's sake people, do you NEED to keep your mind in chains?)

I have to go and visit my mum and my three half-siblings and I probably will head onto Durham from there. I am looking forward to the huggle-icious reunion of Snugglebum and Whoomphy. As are you all. So ta-ta Sussex people, I probably won't be back for quite a while.

Same Bat Time, Same Bat Station, http://www.livejournal.com/users/peffkitten You Know Where It's At.