Brighton breezy

Up early, got myself together, walked the dogs ( dealt with a nasty case of 'grass bum' ) and cycled down to the station. For some reason I decided to change my route - and a furniture van blocked Harold Road - I was able to nip trough on the pavement before it all got a bit 'shouty'. There was a 6 foot tranny in a red poncho and black wig on the prom. It was 8.30am.

Had a quick chat with someone in work and then caught the train to Brighton. It was cold wet and raining. As I arrived at Brighton the skies parted and it was very clear and staggeringly hot. I get that a lot. I think they pay higher council tax, hence the better weather.

Work went really well - good presentation - commissioned more work. I left on a high. I always have this overwhelming feeling when I leave a meeting that has gone well that I've 'gotten away with it' - apparently this is a well recognised freelance phsychosis. Walked around Brighton for a bit - but found it dull. Lingered in the bike shop and popped into the barbers on Sidney Street to see my old friend Mike, who has an electrical device in his brain to stop him fitting. Earlier in the day I saw his wife and kids, I've never seen the little boy before - he was born last year.

As I left the train in Brighton, a group of uniformed policemen were 'escorting' a girl to a waiting police car - she was about 25, of busty and voluptuous build, very over-done - what some people might refer to as looking a bit 'brass' - she had been crying and appeared dazed - judging by the police presence - she had been very naughty, she kept muttering - "I'm all right now, I was just a bit upset". later - a perfectly respectable middle aged man with nice glasses walked towards me in Hove, waving his arms up and down - as he came close I head that he was repeating 'Jesus loves me' under his breath.

There was a bloke waiting on the platform to come back who had thalidomide arms. I grew up in a part of the world where thalidomide was handed out like jelly beans and it was a very familiar sight as a kid - I knew loads of boys and girls who were affected - so it really does not bother me. Nor him, by the look of him - he turned round and I was taken aback to see that he was also staggeringly good looking. On the train the couple adjacent were going to a wedding. She was very beautiful and had a lovely black dress on, and spent the journey arranging the reception. He was also very handsome and quirky with a great dress sense and a powder blue Commes des Garcons wallet - the same as my black one. He had an ironic moustache. He was also very badly scarred - not his face but his head, scalp, ears and hands were all covered in what must have been full thickness burns - judging by the healing - he's been in a fire as a child. He was lucky it hadn't effected his face - he really was very good looking.

On the journey home a very young squaddie sat opposite me with uniform and kit bag, reading a 'Sharpe' novel. As we arrived at Bexhill a middle aged couple got on and sat behind me - he said not a single word, she was so pissed she'd lost all her inhibitions - not sure if she had known him long. She kept laughing uncontrollably, shouting out loud and saying things like -

"Oh Colin, your'e so funny, I can't stop laughing at what you said, your'e so amazing, you have no inhibitions, you're wonderfull, oh Colin everbody loves you" This went on for 20 mins. The Squaddie was aghast - looked at them in horror, looked at me and mouthed 'why' with a pained, lost look on his face - then put his head in his hands. Did I mention she was wearing a torn leopard skin blouse. It was horrible.

Was glad to get home, very tired. As it's a long weekend - I'm not expecting any bother tomorrow, have plenty to do - I love Bank Holidays.