Last night was fun. Went to see Terry's band play at Bar Rhumba on Shaftesbury Avenue (a place I have not been to since I was a student). It was this night run by some guy named Aslan. I just wanted to put that in there because I love the name. Everyone chipped in to pay my doortax which was adorable.

Anyway, there was a veritable smorgasbord of delightful feathercuts there. Mmmm. There is nothing in the world like a London fevver. (Apart from a scally fevver but they are a different breed altogether and are not really comparable) It has strengthened my resolve to go prowling at Bedrock on Friday. It's been far too long....This time Helen and I are not going to bite people. We are going to be nice. Carla is coming out too and it's going to be fantastic.

Terry's band want to shoot their next video in our basement and for us to be in it. Which is going to be hilarious..

Spent a lot of the night sipping from my hip flask and ruminating on love. Sometimes it's just so utterly surprising, is it not? Two people who would be last on your list as a likely couple can just meet and - bam - fall in love in about an hour. Then, next time you see them it's all public declarations of love and they have that "lit from within" look. You wonder why you never got them together years ago. I am referring of course to Terry, Lorny's bruv, and festival Catherine, stuntwoman extraordinaire. They were both fucking glowing last night. It was sweet.

It's the Annual National Coindealer's Convention tonight which always means trouble for the House of Rats. Friday is Bedrock. On Saturday I have two houseparties to go to. On Sunday I am going to the Harvest Festival at St Martin's. I am going to do all this on a tenner. Blag, blag, blag. Blag.