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Tuesday, August 28, 2007

The Real ThingI'd just like to thank Lisa for proving conclusively that if you place a can of Coke in your boyfriend's freezer for a few minutes to cool it down, only to forget it's there for two days, you've got approximately forty-five hours to vacate the premises before it explodes. I wondered what that booming noise was coming from my kitchen a couple of hours ago. I thought it was my out-of-date yoghurts making a bid for freedom. It's only now I find my wholemeal bagels encrusted with frozen cola that I've put two and two together.

The irony is that in the National IQ Test last night, Lisa did quite well on the memory questions.

Not that I'm complaining. Having the contents of my freezer splattered with exploding soft drink, and chipping away Coca-Cola icicles from the bottom of my tupperware, is a darn sight more exciting than the last two days have been. Personally I blame the gay community. And ethnic minorities.

On Sunday I fully intended to get involved in a lesbian egg & spoon race, and jump in the sack with a load of gay men, but sadly it didn't quite happen for me. The Brighton Lesbian & Gay Sports Society were holding their annual sports day just down the road from me in Dorset Gardens, a pretty area of grass and flowers where junkies go to shoot up. Events included Handbag Hurling and The Accessorize Relay, so I was expecting a colourful spectator-friendly event, like the Olympics but with feather boas.

When Lisa and I got there, however, it looked more like a small group of friends having a laugh in a park, and not quite the highlight of the sporting calendar I thought it might be. So we went to Asda instead.

Mind you, the gay sports day was monumental compared to yesterday's 'Alternative Notting Hill Carnival Party' down at Madeira Drive. Friday's Argus claimed that it's "fast becoming a highlight of the annual calendar". Well I don't know what calendar they're using, but when I got down there at 2pm yesterday afternoon it appeared to consist of half a dozen people, a barbecue, and a few jars of Reggae Reggae Sauce. They didn't even have William Hague in a baseball cap. Maybe it livened up later, but I had to get home for an IQ Test, so I wouldn't know.