"You scored an average of 1.05

This result can also be related to the Kinsey Scale:

0 = exclusively heterosexual
1 = predominantly heterosexual, incidentally homosexual
2 = predominantly heterosexual, but more than incidentally homosexual
3 = equally heterosexual and homosexual
4 = predominantly homosexual, but more than incidentally heterosexual
5 = predominantly homosexual, incidentally heterosexual
6 = exclusively homosexual"

MY GOD, he's still in there. I'm going to have to pee in one of Simon's crusty porridge bowls. And now I can't watch Neighbours in peace, or do sit-ups in my pants, 'cos he'll be hanging around the kitchen, re-arranging the fridge magnets and categorizing the forks.

A diversion is called for. My friend Georgie told me the best break-up story. She was seeing a bloke who, for various reasons, she did not want to see any more. One morning, he set out to cycle ten miles to see her, whilst he was doing this she decided she simply couldn't stand another minute of being his girlfriend. So she wrote him a letter to explain, which was bad enough really, but THEN she went out, leaving the note for her mum to give to him when he got there!! I don't think he even got to re-fill his water bottle for the journey back! And this girl is all set to qualify as a social worker in June.

I saw Vince Noir, goth fairy, naked today.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nf_lrgD6gck

www.moscowcatstheatre.com

* He can't stay in one place, we never know where he is, Bristol, Chichester, India (!).
* Leave him in a room for half an hour, and you'll come back to find it completely re-arranged.
* In fact, he cannot stay in a room for more than 5 minutes without re-arranging the furniture. And then moving it all back. Ad infinitum.

He's also been known to chuck the odd bit of pottery around, although he's never sucked somebody into the TV, because he can't stay still enough to watch any for one thing. I worry. But not enough to do anything about it apart from find it mildly amusing.

http://www.theargus.co.uk/the_argus/the_guide/THEATRE_REVIEW5.html

My obsession continues. I've spent far, far too long on the Mighty Boosh site, looking at other 'fans' photos, scanning frantically through their stories to check they didn't get to kiss Noel on the mouth (ha!)

After spending Saturday night clubbing till 3 in Brighton, and Sunday night mingling with celebrity zoo-keepers, my sister spent this Saturday night chasing local freak 'Spar Bag Man' round the back lanes of Lampeter. 'Spar Bag Man' wears a big blue mac and bottle type glasses, he walks the roads pushing a shopping trolley and carrying a Spar bag, hence the title bestowed upon him. Anywhere else and this guy would have Social Services swarming all over him. Round here, he blends in beautifully. He is one of many local freaks. That's no excuse to spend an hour and a half tailing him though. For shame.

Here's a photo of my dog. She's currently sat on my foot. She's 11 years old and likes barking, snuffling in disgusting places for disgusting things, and sitting on cream coloured furniture.

And then we went by Pressure Point, because Robots in Disguise were playing, but we didn't really think the Boosh would be there. But Vince was stood in the doorway!! I ran across the road without looking and nearly got hit by a bus, which got his attention at any rate. I then got a photo, a kiss on the lips(!) and a high that I think I'm still coming down from. Except Elliot dropped my camera, so I may have an additional photo of his foot, or no photos at all. This is too horrible to contemplate.

We then managed to worm our way into the gig and saw Howard Moon, Bob Fossil (who nobody actually seemed to recognise) Naboo and, the Robots, who to my great disappointment were really good. The little fat one is vicious though, she pushed two girls off the stage when they tried to clamber up there after Howard 'where are you bitches going? Keep your hand off my boyfriend!'. It's fairly obvious that Noel is her boyfriend, they were practically dry humping on stage. But I'm over it. I've lived the dream. He doesn't look so good up close. His girlfriend could take me without even putting her guitar down.

We then went back to Elliot's, and formed an inappropriate massage chain. Cath (sister) massaging Elliot, and Elliot massaging me, sat between his legs. Then she went to bed, and Elliot went to make a move, so I made my (poor) excuses, lots of over-dramatic yawning etc. and exited stage right, very confused. He's my mate, we get on really well and he's had such a rough time of it lately (his mum comitted suicide last year). But that's not really an reason to get hot and heavy on his sagging sofa, it's lucky I didn't have enough to drink, or things could have got very messy. In the words of the Hitcher 'you slag'.

Today we took some of the kids from work to Brighton, which was lovely because they got excited about picking up shells on the beach and playing frisbee in the park. Me and Johnny felt like Mum and Dad.

Nothing else to report really. Dave was up at five this morning, rubbing himself down with sandpaper and doing press-ups with his hands tied behind his back. I've just worked out for twenty minutes, had a cold shower and eaten a banana. I feel marvellous.

I went to see Suzann's baby on Thursday (she of the heavily pregnant car park peeing episode). He's three weeks old, weighs 7 pounds and is called Emanuel. He is truly beautiful. His skin looks like Galaxy chocolate. Suzann is breastfeeding him every forty minutes, the minute the kid so much as gurgles she's whipping up her top and stuffing him under it. Poor Johnny really didn't know where to look, he finally settled for escaping to the toilet.
Bless.