Hats.

I had a date on Friday, a proper date. It was jolly exciting, we were supposed to go ice-skating but instead we had tapas and got outrageously drunk. I was still drunk the next day, it was like special long-life booze had got into my system or something.

She was very pleasant but I'm not sure how it went really, she didn't hit me or anything but it didn't end up with anything naughty either. She wore a very silly hat which covered up her beautiful hair, but had excellent shoes on so I suppose that balances out. I would like to see her naked, or failing that in a better headgear.

I spent the rest of the weekend meeting various girls for coffee and eating Chinese food, then I went home and wore my only pants while watching the telly.

Today I have been playing about with colour palettes and fiddling with computery stuff to do with colour palettes, I like it because I get to have long conversations about what 'Aegean Cruise' says as a colour compared to 'Hop Grove 2'. We had quite a heated debate about 'Inner Shell' but thankfully I managed to put forward my point and the shade was avoided.

I went for lunch with all the girls as a very lovely person has been offered a job and said yes, we had nice warm pasta and talked about weddings, boots and why parents don't understand dating. It was very gay. One of the girls said I should become a wedding planner. She said in a loud voice, during a timely gap in the music.

'Any bride would feel safe in your hands on her wedding night'

The whole bar looked at me, and I blushed all the way home.

Musicals and Richard Branson's loo

Oh golly gosh today has been busy.

First off I spent about 2 hours talking about 'what your favourite musical says about you' and when you should break in to song in public. I think provided your dance routine is good enough almost anywhere. Opinion was divided on this hotly contested issue. The debate had to be put on hold because I had a meeting to go to, not my normal sort of meeting (i.e. take a pretty girl out for coffee and talk about Vivian Westwood) but an actual business meeting it was dull, so I drew pictures of otters riding motorcycles on a bit of paper

Thankfully I have my priorities right in that I have put aside some time for monging on the interweb. As an added benefit this involves arranging a date with a lovely girl I met at a gig, we are going to go ice-skating. Going ice-skating is an important part of romantic comedies so I am rather looking forward to this, I shall have to start selecting the sound track right now.

A chum has sent me pictures of Richard Bransons downstairs loo for some reason I am still not entirely sure why, it took me ages to guess who it was - I couldn't believe someone that successful would have such awful wallpaper. I mean honestly, it is not like he couldn't hire someone to provide some advice. Still he has a beard, so his style is clearly in question.

Sadly I am sporting a bit of a facial growth at the moment too, Jeeves would definitely not approve of such an aberration on my face. Still it is jolly cold and it will be going to the big face in the sky later this evening before I go to a party.

I thought I would combine the stubble with a rugby shirt to make me look a touch more macho but it appears to have had the opposite affect as someone has already said I look like a lovely gay bear.

It is going to be a very gay day.

Gooseograms

Well most of the erotica money is gone now, I spent it on a stupidly high phone bill. I only really paid the phone bill because I like sending text message pictures of my day to chums. Picture text messages are the acerest. Now I can send pictures of geese falling over to my pals even when I am on holiday, I bet that is what Alexander Graham Bell was thinking about when he inventorised the telephone.

I think the only thing better than picture messages are telegrams, I wish I could send telegrams like they do in P.G. Wodehouse stories.

RUN OUT OF DRINK STOP BRING GIN NOW STOP DO NOT TELL AUNT AGATHA STOP.

The rest of the money has been spent on computery bits, which is a shame but I needed them after I brought the wrong the bits while drunk and then lost the recept.

Shell-shock and mung beans.

I have shell-shock, the effects of late nights, wine and other people's fetishes has got to me. I want to wear lots of army clothes, especially vests and smoke while warning people to keep an eye out for 'charley' or 'bosh'. Then after a bit I want to go all crazy and work on growing a fab beard while mumbling about how Jones was a good man, and we lost too many good men.

More importantly I don't want to see any nude people ever again, or have sex. I might have to be come one of those smug abstinence people and move to Islington and eat mung beans for the rest of my days. There was a while when I was tempted to become a Bhuddist but I hate the colour orange and so it just couldn't work for me. If they can come up with a Business class Bhuddism with a better colour scheme and some good benefits I will definitely revisit the whole thing.

I am sure I will be fine in a couple of days really, after I have washed my soul out with lemons, bleach and lavender.

Last night I ended up taking two girls back to the flat for more drinking adventures, I gave them both goodie bags of lippy and other things and showed them my bathroom. They both said it was a very gay bathroom but liked my choice of essential oils. I think they were just jealous of my shampoo.

We drank lots of wine (well actually I drank wine, they mostly spilled it on the floor) while watching Black Books and talking about rubbish. There was a point in the evening when it all could have got very, VERY rude but it was deftly side-stepped, through my now very practiced technique.

I think it is going to be at least a week before I can face any sort of adult activity - by adult I mean something naughty, not just talking about mortages and where the good schools are.

Shoes or Phones

Today is the final day, only nine more hours and then it is all over. I am wondering what to spend the money I have made so far on, currently I am torn between paying my phone bill or buying some shoes.

Who really needs a telephone if you have brilliant shoes?

Right, time to scamper off to the show. I have been listening to the Velvet Underground a lot, it is helping. I bet the feeling you get after coming down of heroin is just like having to go to a porny show four days in a row.

A gay time was had by all.

I have had very much enough of other people's sex lives. I don't want to go back tomorrow but I must. Today I learned that hangovers and Erotica do no mix, and that I don't actually like the sort of people that go to Erotica. The other people on the stands are very pleasant but the people going, no. They all want to do the sex and that is WRONG.

The last couple of days have been very gay for me.

On Saturday night was a big industry do with all sorts of people getting drunk, we went for a meal first and everyone went out about how gay I was (and ate food of course). I said that as long as I have a well tied cravat and a good fourstroke chainsaw the rest is window dressing, this went down well but they still thought I was gay.

Then we went to this bar and I met some industry people, one girl said she would write me a reference as boyfriend material which I thought was nice, she has just made a porny film and was going on about arty it was. I really do wonder what it will be like.

Will people be humping each other in front of a nice Rubins while something moving by Greig plays in the background? Do winkies and art mix? Do you think somewhere in the art world some girl is going on about how she has done a good drawing and it is really porny?

Then a not-a-girlfriend of a work mate turned up with a friend. The friend seemed rather jolly she thought I was gay for a bit, decided I wasn't and then got furious because I didn't try and kiss her so stormed out of the bar. It all happened so fast I am still not entirely sure what I did wrong.

I have seen so many droopy nipples in the last few days, droopy nipples and men in chaps. Still the girls we have working our stand are enjoyably kooky and provide much entertainment through their jibber-jabbing.

In other news an awfully nice girl I met at the gig and I exchanged the briefest of email conversations before my Erotica experience began. She is awfully nice and I would like to ask her out on a date, a nice PG date with nothing even remotely rude happening and her not thinking I am gay.

That is what I would like, well that and another of my precious mangos to ripen. Maybe if I go and look for a while they will ripen more.

Badger lust

I spent most of the day today at Erotica, it wasn't planned but it happened. Much like a ginger child, I have some regrets but what is done is done.

Erotica is strange, by attending you find out that lost of ugly people have sex too, very loud showy sex. I could do with out this information. The event also has a very special atmosphere, it is dirty, just by going you feel dirty. It is like the feeling you get just after you have had sex with a badger, a road killed badger, up the bum, in front of your local vicar. Or so I imagine.

Sullied is what I am, if I was in 17th century France my reputation would be ruined and I would have no choice but to move the colonies.

And this is only day one of four.

Today I saw 6 winkies belonging to other people and 7 sets of nipples of old people. I have no desire to see either of them.

I met some Thai lady boys, one of whom, from behind looked exactly like an ex of mine, which was a little strange but also hot.

No not really.

Well a little bit maybe.

We have some girls working with us at Erotica and and they are fun, I spent a large part of the event drinking vodka with them and talking about dogs.

Tomorrow I am going to wear velvet and we are going to have a picnic.

Last night...

Last night I stopped a crime (which would make a good opening line to a punk song) some little chap was getting accosted by some other chaps for his wallet phone etc, I shouted at them and they got back on their bicycles and cycled off. It's a shame it wasn't a pretty girl being accosted, not that I want more pretty girls to be accosted but then I could save them and they could swoon into my arms or something.

When I was in Scotchland there was a period of a couple of months when I kept saving lives, people would spaz out on the street right in front of me or I would find someone choaking on their own vomit. That was jolly exciting but none of them were hot girls either, still I did get to stick my fingers down a tramps throat so it has it's own rewards I suppose.

I saw a band too (in a club), the singer was very jumpy and good. Then another band came on and they were a bit lame, still there a was a good bit in the pause between the songs where some person at the back of the room said really loudly

'...But they lead singer does look like Freddy Kruger...'

He did in a way, Freddy during his indy period.

Mangos

It is Erotica this week, so after Wednesday most of my week is going to be spent having mechanics from Dudley tell me about their sex lives. I don't want to hear about the sex lives of ugly people, but at least the fact they talk in a funny way makes up for what they are saying.

'y'am loiks it up the bum'

Last time I met lots of tranvestites who worked in the building trade, they had big thick arms and dressed liked Tory wives from the home counties. The ones I chatted too seemed quite pleasant until they kept going on about how they wanted their winky chopped off.

In preperation for being hit with this barrage of filth and debauchery I have got in some supplies of food to help cleanse the spirit. Lots of green tea and some mangos. I am going to have to buy some more mangos now as I ate most of them last night as they were too tasty looking. I love mangos me, if I was James Bond, Goldfinger would just have to send in a girl with a tray of mangos and I would probably crack.

James: So do you expect me to talk?
Goldfinger: No Mr Bond, I expect you to die.
James: Aren't you supposed to try and use mangos on me?
Goldfinger: Nope, lasers hurt more.
James: This dialogue doesn't make much sense anymore.
Goldfinger: Not really, fancy a mango?
James: Oh yes please. Can I have a knife so I don't make a mess?
Goldfinger: Of course, I just had the carpets cleaned you know.

ACTION: James takes knife and stabs Goldfinger with it and then runs off with a girl and a nice car, and more mangos.

FIN.

Also at Erotica will be some people who work in porn, most of them think I am gay too.

Back in London.

I am back from home now, I spent most of the time eating, looking at geese and spending quality time with 'the fam'

In some ways it was a journey of self discovery, taking time out from my life and thinking about the world, here are my collected thoughts.

Geese are better than ducks.

Man can live on cake alone, provided you have at least two helpings of fruit cake a day.

I don't suit a beard.

I am back in London now, it is cold so I am wearing a cravat. I think I am going to go flat hunting as it is time to move on, I think somewhere in Hampstead or Regents Park would be nice as they seem to have the highest percentage of woman I fancy walking about.

Gayest thing I did all week: Had a bake-off with my little brother and then spent an afternoon talking about the colour pallet of the high-street winter collections.

'What is your boyfriend like?'

Last night was an experience. I ended up having supper with Shelly from Alica's Attic (well when the band was still about). She was lovely and we spoke on many grown up subjects like how left handed people are the best and David Bowie's trousers, then she asked me what 'my boyfriend was like'.

Not 'so are you gay or straight' or even 'do you have a girlfriend' straight to 'what is your boyfriend like'. When I corrected her on the matter she said I was too well dressed to be straight.

Admittedly after that she started stroking my leg so I suppose that is a good sign. I also met Holly Hotlips, who used to be on the Chris Evan's show (when he was on radio1) she has very hot lips and a boney bum.

I have a very bad hangover, not one of the all time greats but definitely a strong one. If it was a football team The manager would say this after the game.

'We went in there and we did what we had to do, its not going to set the world on fire but we got the points we needed and now we can move on to the next round'

I am drinking soup out of a cup but it's helping.

Gayest thing I have done today: Ordered a Barbara Streisand boxset off play.com