MY DIRTY SEXY WEEKEND(S)

It must have been a good weekend as it’s taken me over a week to recover. Sometimes I just sort of forget that I am no longer as young as I was and should stick to regular bedtimes and moderate booze consumption, but even though I suffer a little more in the aftermath, I usually find it was all worth it.

Last Friday was our Best of British slam at Sh! As usual, we had a lovely time and, as usual, there was a certain amount of panic and chaos earlier in the day, so special thanks to the fabulous Helen J Perry for stepping up and doing a second reading to fill out the bill. Also a hug and a Well Done to Lola Sparkles, who made her reading-slam debut, and hugs to Anna Sky who came all the way down from the frozen North to join us.

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There’s no better way to wind down after an evening of erotic fiction than by having some actual naughty fun, so I took myself off to a party where a great deal of rope and whackings ensued. And did not head for home until about 7am, so it’s perhaps unsurprising that I fell asleep on the train and went to Hassocks by mistake. But I couldn’t actually sleep off my exertions just yet, as it was St George’s Day, which meant an afternoon of Morris dancing and quantities of cider.

Sunday a day of rest? Not quite, as it was time for London Below in Camden. Due to various annoying circumstances I had to get there on a succession of buses, which meant I didn’t start my trading day in the best of tempers, but the afternoon soon improved. This month it was at the Barfly, which meant plenty of passing trade, and I did rather like the handy shelf on which I could display my favourite five anthologies

.Dirty Sexy Words 2A  little bookselling, some hugs and gossip, and a bit more cider made for a cheering day, and when I finally made it home I was wrecked but contented.

So really, the only smart thing to do this weekend was engage in further rope, whacking, Morris dancing and cider. Well, wouldn’t you?

 

 

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