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Thanks to everyone who helped me escape the sheer grinding misery of existence in a wildly hedonistic weekend. Everyone who played dress-up and put up with my drunken ranting and thought it wasn't too disgusting to drink Sangria at Sunday lunchtime. All the shiny masks. All the posing pancake-makers. Hostess and birthday boy, birthday girl and sister. Good party gods.

UKCAC diary page 3UKCAC diary continues with my descent into the evening. There is a huge porcelain zebra in the hotel foyer. I put on an ill-advised tight-fitting gold velvet top and lose patience with people trying to decide where to eat. The iron-willed dictator we're all missing is Fiona Jerome, at that time heading out of the comics scene to form a brand new magazine called Bizarre; she didn't make it up to Manchester for UKCAC. The tall man I'm burbling at is Gavin Burrows, Zineking of the Brighton small press scene. Into the hotel.


2nd Mar, 2004 05:25 (UTC)
the usual number
Though it was sculpted lying down, so they were folded back under the body. It was surprisingly large.