I got the warm sand and fish-wee in between my toes this morning, and had a chance to marinate on the Saturday blog-meet whilst getting the soup out of my ears.

First off, I had got in from Scallyshire on Friday afternoon and rendezvoused with Eggbod in the big ale shop supermarket. A huge thank-you to her and Lord Eggbod for their fantastic hospitality and for putting the world to rights that night... I for one shall sleep more soundly for knowing exactly who's in charge...sure as eggs is eggs !

Saturday followed as day follows smoky barbequed-brain night...I had a good rummage in Oxfam for suitable evening wear. Mulled over timetables and routes until the fair Lord Eggs became desperate that he might not see the back of us unless he drove us in, so he did.

Down the road we clopped until I espied that old git swashbuckler Nick-me-lad 'aving a fag outside the Gipsy and fell off my twig with excitement. And (great joy) he was with NotBob (I agree wholeheartedly with whoever tagged him 'charming') and the fragrant diamond Jacobite. Inside scarfing alcopops lay were the irrepressibly loving Meno, the hirsuit cove Shipscook and radiantly red-headed Mrs F, cool Jenrae & equally cool but exhausted Ray, widely smiling :D FaffaJane & gentlemanly Nigel, the frankly adorable ChynaDoll (she's lovely) and beautiful goth-chick Louisa. Inexcusibly yet pissed fashionaby late, along trotted Rowtheboat (sleek and sparkly and disappointingly not in the least mushroom-haired) with Jeremy Clarkson aka Arkela MJJohnson and impossibly youthful Dorian Gray TKK .

Me and Eggs scrambled up quite nicely too.

Lovely though the Gipsy is, when the garden shut and we were bundled (none too politely ) inside for the disco it was time to go, and having been moved along after lighting up ( Jeez... even a pavement isn't 'outside' enough some people) a small scouting party voted with it's sore feet and found suitable alternative premises by turning right at the pile of vom into the market.

Here we could sit queasily quasily outside and drink, smoke and talk 'til 11, only periodically interrupted by phone-calls from insanely jealous bloggers who (for one reason or another) couldn't be there .... Yes, yes me dears.. we missed you too. |-|

It was a tad 'spit & sawdust', and the bogs might have been a touch similar to one of Dante's seven circles of hell, but hey... they had a chandelier ! ...

Now, I call that pure glass class !

Eggbod and I were obliged to take a taxi home, because after all our timetable revision, the station was rattling the cat and putting the milk bottles out by the time we got there. What had been a hotbed of roller-blade action had been transformed into a ghost-town complete with tumbleweed...

Traditional Cockney/Scouse banter was soon under way, until only 2 minutes later the cabbie accidently pressed his 'seal me in and call back-up ' button, leaving us to our ladylike chatter...

So nanananana !

:wave: