Back to Blog Another Day AKA not arrested or molested in Chester Ys


Name that Tune:   “You dance, you smile, the guys go wild So chic so fine you all looks so divine” – Ladies Night, Kool & the Gang

Movie Quote of the Day:   “Looking Good Billy Ray / Feeling Good Lewis” – Trading Places

Bones of contention, for the record at the moment are: Twister and shoes hidden in the roof… Seriously… do not ask!

Enough. I digress. I’m alive!

I was not fished out of the canal behind Bar Sixty Nine or arrested for indecent exposure down by The Groves. I made it out of Chester Y’s in one piece (if not for the want of trying).

Tequila shooters and beer that has tequila in it! What was I thinking? B.O.G.O.F on cocktails (always a great idea at the time). Not so much later on when the inevitable melancholy girly bubbling began apropos of nothing (why does this always happen with women?) and the following morning with a head full of nails and a mouth like one of those foam dartboards you used to get for Christmas as a kid.

Ended up in Cruise again and Little Miss Sunshine’s name came out the hat yet again and it was one of her ex-paramours that we bumped into on the stairs, just like last time we were in there 2 years ago, but a different one this time.

One day my time will come though doubtless, Fate will be saving them all up to roll them out like some kind of Boy Band Gone Bad Bald; a Troop of Torment; a Ship of Fools; an Excess of Exes… I could go on but I can’t think of any more stupid names.

At least she bumps into hers when she’s all glammed up in a Nightclub. I shall probably crash into mine whilst pushing a trolley round Tescos – dressed in my best velour chavpants, tracky top and a council house facelift pineapple ponytail; make-up free and bawling my kids out as I fill the trolley with Vodka, sanitary towels and water retention relief tablets.

Looking Good Mrs B!

Anyway. I was driven back to The Moss at noon the next day by the lady like Little Miss Sunshine, who at first was reluctant to say ‘hi’ to my folks because she felt like she looked too much like shit. (I convinced her quite quickly that, to be fair, it wouldn’t have been the first time that the pair of us had rocked up back at my house looking like something the cat dragged in – my mum and dad have seen it all before.)

Bonus of a childfree weekend was that once the formalities were over, I went to bed for an hour’s disco snooze before going into town with my mum.


No joy on the hunt round the charity shops for something akin to a prom dress or ball gown that I could titivate destroy for my Halloween costume. The good ladies of Chester are obviously hanging on to their cast-off finery until the New Year.

It’s fine though, I have something that will suffice that won’t matter if the stage blood doesn’t wash out of.

No photos of the night out. Probably just as well to be honest. At least my bra stayed done up this time though.

Until next time…


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