so i took out my gun and said girl! write that blog!

bridget! there's a midget

there was a time when i would have come home from something like ATP, breathed a big sigh and have had nothing to do for the next week except a big blogorific recollection of it. This is not that time, and don't worry, you didn't scare me off. but this is not that time, and i was busy being sick, being over worked and doing weddingy prep things. It'll be all over soon, and then you can relax. And more importantly, so can I.

ATP was only massive mind. First we got to go on our holidays to Brighton. Remember that time in Brighton Catherine? Oooo I do Jill, that little caff we used to go to? Plus it contained our first sighting of the southern england version of Centra...'Budgeons'. The same branding, frontage, slogan all that malarkey. Except rhyming with bludgeon, or with a stretch of the imagination, dungeon. A perfectly harmless mini supermarket interior however.

Then second we discovered that while indie rock boys are generally tall, white and polite in manner in most ways, they are too skinny to be of any use to a damsel in distress. Take the poor girl on her own lugging a giant suitcase up some steps, down some steps and then back again as the station announcer pointed us from one platform to the other. 'The rock train will now be departing from platform scruffy...' Not a one of the converse clad hairy feckers tried to help her. Me and Catherine did, but she said she was okay as we all tutted at the lank haired lovelies scurrying by.

Rye has great bangers and mash, but they'll serve it to you in their own time (much like this blog post). Rye is picture postcard cute, the kind of small town that your mother loves, full of crafty shops and period houses and nice boutiques. And they do a mean pastry puff.

I'm such a wuss, that I missed a lot of the very late night shenanigans, so Catherine will have to do her guest blog about them, but they mostly involved a large amount of 80's singing and a big stick.

Oh Sweet Jesus. Have you seen R. Kelly's Trapped In The Closet? (You must read that link first if you haven't) We have. Twice. Followed by the South Park parody of it, with Tom Cruise in the closet, and the scientologist shenanigans. Followed by going round most the the day singing lines at random and at random people, and all of them knowing whats going on. ATP-TV is a great leveller - every hungover punter was staring in amazement at the same madness the curators had chosen to broadcast. There was a little person (is that the right term nowadays?) working there for Pontins, serving hotdogs one day, and in the canteen the next. So, if you've seen RK's TITC (to abbreviate), you'll know that that poor fecker was groaning oh no, not that stupid child molesters ridiculous american daytime soap style sung drama involving a midget and white trash named bridget...

gosh i've not even mentioned rock yet. but i have to go to bed. tomorrow night is 'I Can't Believe It's Not A Hen Night' (tm)