Anyone who was watching BBC2 at 11:30am this morning, and wondering about the identity of the mysterious figure in the red union jack t-shirt, trying very hard to look nonchalant whilst wandering around behind Simon Hughes on Brighton seafront - well, wonder no more. It was me. And I have to say, the President of the Lib Dems is not as tall as he looks on TV.

There was definitely an an air of woolly-minded liberalism about town this morning, possibly because half the people I met on my walk along the seafront and back were carrying hippyish brown hessian bags (that's a sack to you and me) bearing the words 'Lib Dem Bag For Life'. Which I believe started out as a badge worn by Shirley Williams. Although I could be wrong about that. I also managed to get up close and personal with Dr Vincent Cable, who the Lib Dems are describing on their website as the "Shadow Chancellor". Which seems a little optimistic to me. But with a name like Cable, I knew he'd get on TV, so I loitered behind him until Sky worked out who he was and gave him an interview.

Anyhoo, having met on-off homosexual Simon Hughes, and just missed friend of the rent-boys Mark Oaten, I headed back towards the pier and spotted Michael Brown, former MP and cash-for-questions stalwart, who was given the sack (and I don't mean a hessian bag) for holidaying in Barbados with an underage boy. He's a Conservative, not a Lib Dem, but he clearly thought he'd fit in, so came along anyway.

As for yesterday, I successfully collected my Big Sis from Gatwick airport at 9am and drove her to Brighton, where she stood around in a towel for two hours, drank Ribena, talked about men, and knocked a glass of water over my drum machine. After that I forced her out of my flat, and escorted her to the marina, where she, Lisa and I visited Pizza Express and had a reunion with the camp waiter who served us on my birthday. We ate outside, allowing me to get hot, Lisa to get sunburnt, and Sis to sit there in a coat and complain every five minutes that it's too cold.

After that we headed to the beach for a paddle, and posed for a timer-photo of the three of us. Which would have come out better had Lisa not mistaken Sis's camera for a pebble, and looked in entirely the wrong direction. She'd be no good trying to get on TV.