Being British...

... I am allowed to talk endlessly about the weather, regardless of it's general interest etc.

I went out last night in knee deep snow, temperatures of -9 and the whole of Hastings a sheet of ice - 3 hours later it was in thaw, and this morning, torrential rain - cold winds and very dark skies. At least most of the ice is gone ( and very quickly ) - but it's HORRIBLE. Apparently it will freeze over again later in the week.

My walk down the hill last night was quite entertaining - it was much worse than I expected - there was solid ice everywhere, even the main roads and the beach - the snow was still deep - including the main shopping area - and the old town was, quite literally... an ice rink.

There was an 18th Birthday Party at Venuu - a large group of girls was outside smoking, they all looked about 14 - were shivering in the ice and snow wearing small pieces of fabric and high heels, most of them only had their hair colour to keep them warm.

In TinTins ( a pub I hate, incidently ) I had to listen to the bar staff talk shite ( it was - like most places, empty )

"yeah, he's going to get someone in over 30 for the older crowd in the day-time - like a geriatric special"

The event I went to was poorly attended because of the weather - I knew it would be, that's why I made the effort, but I still enjoyed it. They had a snow machine, which I thought was genius. The DJ works with me, he has an important role at the college in Student Services - he's also a well known anarchist and has an exceptional West Coast punk collection.

The front bar ( for it was at the back of The Pig in Paradise - another venue I hate ) was full of drunk chavs - an odd experience.... two dim looking boys in tracksuits and neck tattoos wandered in and tried to get into the spirit by dancing to Dwane Eddie in a strange acid house style - they were not taking the piss, I think it's all they knew.

When I was at the bar there was another chavy type with his girlfriend - this was the type who was blinged and polished to boy-band proportions... closer scrutiny revealed he was wearing false eyelashes, I was fascinated and repulsed at the same time and found myself staring at him in horror.

When I came home I watched a very good documentary about Dinah Washington and 'The Abominable Dr Phibes' - which I generally always watch if I've had anything to drink. I was an advert for a TV show where they take celebrities and precisely recreate their childhood homes to see how it effects them. I caught Boy George entering a typical suburban '70s front room - first laughing and then tearing up. I don't know what it is about alcohol - but any more than 3 pints and I get depressed and emotional ( so I don't generally drink that much ). I found myself imagining being in the same situation and it really upset me. I can't imagine anything more awful than going back to when I was a child.

The presenters on the BBC news channel have adopted the American broadcast style of selecting one word from each sentence and adding an extra, and generally innapropriate, emphasis.

"Spanish Air Traffic CONTR-OOOLERS have gone on strike, much to the disgust of the SPANISH ( add annoying dipthong to suggest question ) public"