felidae

Saturday night I went out into Manchester, and after a foray down Canal Street (naming a street I frequent isnt giving an accurate indication of where I am, believe me, this street is the gay village thoroughfare and as such has approximately 20904324389430 bars, any of which I could be found in) I decided to go dance in a nearby punk/goth/metal/alternative venue. Much fun was had by all, especially yours truly, for the following reasons:

1) A couple of acquaintances now know I made SuicideGirls, and they skipped in small circles and looked very sweet (and excessively spankable) while doing so.

2) I had free drinks all night via the wondrous barstaff whom I know all too well, and both bouncers and coat-checking persons were gleeful at seeing my glossy hide once more.

3) I was recognised by a guy in a SuicideGirls shirt.

This last made me blink, firstly because I was being given kudos before I even deserve it (no set, no glory), and secondly because it made me realise that yes, people ARE going to recognise me and these people WILL see me nude.

Ah well. Least there will be some record of my breasts at their pinnacle so I can look back when Im 50 and say, I remember when they didnt tuck into my pants...

Fun Felidae Fact: I have nightmares about my friends gaining offspring. I used to have nightmares about my friends being eaten, but now I think its one and the same.