more pollocks

Tuesday morning was spent at the Old Bailey where I was in support of the Vixen’s appearance as a witness. Ominous bells toll on approaching the area and getting into the witness area involved going through security similar to that of an airport. No matter how many times you check your pockets and bags one can’t help wondering if there’s something that shouldn’t be in there. It’s not a place for those with a guilty conscious. I had expected it to be drafty and full of shadows and creaks but it was all disappointingly modern, with fully equipped communal kitchens, travelling tuck shops and wall-to-wall chavs. Even the barristers were all young, fit and handsome. Not necessarily a bad thing.

Luckily for the Vixen the accused pleaded guilty, meaning that she didn’t have to make the stand (in her borrowed geography teacher outfit). Naturally we scarpered as soon as possible, straight into a pile of cameras and journos waiting outside for him. We pretended that they were paparazzi and that we were famous. Well, our spirits were high at the time. A pub-crawl seemed the logical thing to do and we made our way from the Old Bailey, along to the South Bank for old times sake and ended up in HH for a now traditional win-ding involving the coal fire, disco lighting and a trip to the park with the scooter, blanket and portable bar. We rolled down the hill and hugged some trees but were gutted that the sky was overcast and cloudy. No star gazing ☹.

My new light design, a roaring success. Lights donated by the shark and filters donated by catster.

Wednesday was a tasty chicken dinner at Mummy & Daddy’s where I coped remarkably well, seeing as I’d had bugger all sleep. Thursday saw Richard Hawley in support to the wonderful Nick Cave solo (well only 3 Bad Seeds in tow) show. Nick blazed onto stage as if he had spent the whole of the day with a bottle of bourbon and the rip roaring pace was maintained for the whole show. It was brilliant. The band appear to be having a handle bar moustache competition, while Warren looked like Rasputin. I’m sure that there is a rational explanation for it and I await it with concern. Lady Jane was there along with the beardless one who had a disturbing new page-boy hair cut. So a busy time means that I’m only now recovering from my time with the Vixen. In out out of dozing, there’s nothing that could get me off this couch right now.


This looks a lot better in the flesh. Art class today was my favourite so far. We learned how to stretch paper and experimented with ink. Sir made a point of saying that mine was very good. I told him that I had really enjoyed doing it and got another “good”. Excellent.