Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Monday, December 15, 2003

I've Been To A Marvellous Party

You know when you've been to a delightful party: your beard smells 80% proof and you leave your umbrella.

The Christmas parties continue apace, this time with a brief sojourn to Putney where former lesbisexual housemate Kimberly had set up house with the wonderful Lady Sarah of Drege. They now live in a terribly adult house with a terrifyingly large bookcase and a dado rail which may, or may not, turn into a dildo rail in the bedroom - we never found out. As we supped on some rather... medicinal-looking vodka, we talked house, of coving and plumbing, and they confessed they were missing our darling Peckham palace slightly - the sound of drug deals, the quaint 'pop!-pop!-pop!' of the drive-by shooting late at night. We discovered the loudest sound you get in Putney was the quick 'slap!' of a leather glove against someone's face, followed quickly by a cry of "You bounder! I shall see you on the common at day break!"

As the evening wore on and the Wife and I had further installed ourselves upon the plump sofa did the lesbisexual hosts inform us that the house is so old that we were over a trap door, leading directly to the deadly cellar containing all sorts of hideous paraphernalia like kd lang standees and a glut of Indigo Girls albums. Certain death would ensue; we took it that we both had to be very entertaining lest a large lever would be pulled and we drop into this hell-hole in a light entertainment stylee. We were never funnier, I can tell you.

The subject of Christmas rolled around. I still refuse to celebrate at the moment, and we briefly discussed my opening of a public house for other non-partying members of the parish. I could call it 'Bar Humbug'. Hmm.

But anyway. The witching hour fair approached, and with the cocktails fair potent, it appeared that everyone else was up to the eyes with Christmas spirit. And certainly full of it was the delightful Susan. I simply adore this woman; an Irish Catholic lesbisexual who can't hold her drink, who adores Kap'n Kathy Janeway as much as I. By the end of the evening, she sat clutching her whisky bottle and talked through her Christmas memories, with one causing the most raised eyebrows and the most laughs. When she was about six or seven, she would pray to God around the festive period:

"Dear Lord, I know you have some sort of divine plan for everyone, but if you could see to it that the angel Gabriel doesn't get me pregnant, I'd be really happy. I mean, go on if you have to, but if you can see to it that it's someone else, I'd be really happy."

Aww. Bless her.

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