Sunday, August 31, 2003
My current hometown, Tunbridge Wells, has been in the news again. Apparently, it used to be the most debauched town in England. Hey, it's still pretty wild now. The other day, I saw two of the spotty teens who hang around at the end of my road, looking like they've escaped from an Avril Lavigne video (have I said that before?), snogging! And the local Blockbuster has one or two soft porn films on the shelves, or so I've heard. Wild, huh? Walking through the Wells is like being in a scene from Caligula, or even Carry on Camping.

I went to a wedding reception on Friday night and things actually did get a bit raunchy, in a very British way. A hairy old rock band played hoary old rock standards all night - 'Woolly Bully', 'Ridearound Sally', er, 'Teenage Dirtbag' - before launching into that one that goes 'You can leave your hat on' from The Full Monty. I think it's called 'You Can Leave your Hat On'. A group of the groom's friends proceeded to pull their shirts off and drove the ladies wild with their writhing bods. They were sickeningly well-toned. It almost made me want to go to the gym. Almost. One of Butter's colleagues was drooling and wondering aloud why her boyfriend didn't know any gorgeous men like that. However, it didn't get very debauched because there was no sign of an actual full, or even half, monty.

Last night, the 'give peace a chaaaaaance' brigade had another of their parties. Which might have been quite debauched, although their proximity to the Tunbridge Wells Conservative Association and the HQ of the UK Independence Party probably made them feel the need to tone it down a bit. There was no out-of-tune singing this time, and the music, which sounded as if it was emanating from a huge speaker inside my pillow, only went on until 3am.

Butter bought some LoveKylie undies yesterday. I asked if she'd let me take a picture to put on here. She said, 'Don't be a moron.'