In my non-stop quest for fun, thrillz and general mayhem (oh, i don't tell you everything, you know), I went to a bar last night.  A bar where an all-white (this sentence has been *sexed-up*, there was a mixed race backing singer) reggae band were performing - performing covers of Aswad, Bob Marley and, err ...UB40 songs.  An all-white (yesyesyes, that includes me, this is a special kind of self-loathing) crowd danced like spastic Action Men and Barbies with 24 hour tummy bugs.  I felt compelled to join in, just to show them how to dance with their genitalia instead of their marionette arms and legs.  A couple of geezers fancied me, but they couldn't have me because they tucked their shirts into their trousers.

I just came back from watching the children's parade at St Paul's Carnival - I've lived in the area for six years and this is the first time I've seen the parade.  At one point it brought a little tear to my eye.  Oh, I used to be so hard and cynical and now I'm turning into a watery old tart.