High in a tree, the colonies come upon a wasps' nest.

[reddragdiva]

Where in God's name are we going to hold a reception? Fiftyish people wandering the streets of Walthamstow in search of a pub on a Saturday afternoon ... the Village has said "uh uh, no way, we're packed on summer Saturdays". The Nag's Head doesn't have a findable phone number and doesn't open until 1pm on a Saturday. Our back yardlet could probably fit fifteen at an extreme squash. After we've killed the deadly nightshade. The Victoria Line is unspeakably hideous on a summer afternoon, so it'd have to be local. (Unless there's somewhere that good.) What to do? Suggestions most urgently welcomed!

Our apologies to those we missed at B-Movie. We arrived at ten and the place was full; redcountess got in (and met at least a few of the wonderful people, and showed off the new haircut), and arkady and I waited in the queue for something like forty-five minutes. Blessed with the company of the luscious flickgc. Flick and I managed to change into our outfits waiting in the queue. (Of course I can be found removing my trousers on the streets of Kings Cross.) It was so damned hot and crowded inside that Liz literally couldn't breathe and had to go outside immediately. (I was concerned about breathability inside just standing at the door.) And Rose had had a very bad asthma attack after Slimelight the week before, so would likely have had one again. (Despite having been wearing the canonical B-Movie outfit: three straps and a gauze dress that was not so much clothing as a special effect. Rowr! I really can't see Emperor Ming settling for anything less.) So we hung out outside chatting to other victims of the queue for a while and caught a taxi home. We are so very sorry to have missed everyone. But it would be really nice if Water Rats could spend some of the B-Movie takings on severe air conditioning. And taking over the hospital next door. I'm tempted to go with an oxygen cylinder and charge one pound a hit.

(gothstevek suggested they really bloody need a bigger venue; perhaps the Ballroom. That would be a novelty, wouldn't it ... a goth night in the Electric Ballroom on a Friday.)

Oh, and I was wearing my new breasts. They felt like the socks they were; I had to acknowledge that Flick's were much more convincing. ciphergoth offered helpful suggestions for next time while he was out taunting queue victims.

Just to prove that getting ready is the best part of going out, Rose made me up when we got home. She's, uh, really good at this. ("Your own personal makeup artist!") Pictures to follow. Rose also has the superpower of doing swirly eye makeup that actually looks good. I do so enjoy playing Barbie doll.

Liz is currently ogling cheong-sam porn. I went to bed at two and woke up at eight-thirty. What's up with that?

Update: My title as World's Oldest Sp00ky Kid is absolutely secure! And drool at Three Straps and a Special Effect.