So, despite all my ravings about being poor last week, I nevertheless went out and bought a new bra at the weekend. I have an excuse though - since I've lost weight, none of my bras fitted properly, and we all know how important a properly-fitting bra is, don't we?

C needed to buy new shoes as well, so we went to Ealing on Saturday afternoon so I could go to Bravissimo for a bra fitting (they specialise in bras for the curvier girl, and I refuse to get my undies anywhere else).

I got fitted by a lovely bouncy girl called Debbie and - you'll be pleased to hear - I'm now wearing a back size smaller. But more than that... I have gained a cup size! I have no idea how the fuck that happened. So I'm now a pornolicious 34E!!! Bloody hell! Forget agonising over which direction my career should take, I should just follow what's staring at me in the mirror and get into porno. No silicone required! OK, so I'd be a short, overweight, flabby porn star; but I guess you can't have them all...

I'm just kidding with that last paragraph, though. Yeah, I have a pornolicious pair, but I don't think I could ever make it in porn. Or would want to.

C nearly died when I came out of the changing rooms at the shop, though, and I surreptitiously showed him the "34E" label on my new bra. Oh yeah. Your girlfriend has huge tits. Be proud!

On Saturday night we went to Fiasco, an arts night run by a colleague of mine. The colleague, in fact. So C finally got to assess my taste in one-night-stands. I don't think the colleague was anything like what he was expecting ;-) I wasn't sure how C would react, but he was cool with it. There's only one person from my past that C doesn't want to meet, and that's the ex-Pro Skater (which is fine with me, as I never want to see him again because he really irritates me now, and I respect C's wishes).

Anyway, Fiasco was very cool. My colleague and his co-organiser have done really well to get that up and running. The only downside was a whole host of godawful nouveaux crusties who were there to support one of the bands. So I'm normally a live-and-let-live kind of person, but I fucking can't stand the nouveaux crusty/hippy set. They're vile. And with this event taking part near Hackney, the place was crawling with them.

They're pretty hard to describe, but you can usually find them living in run-down, yet chic, areas of London like Hackney and Brixton. They dress in "shabby couture", that probably costs a fortune but looks like the items were dug out of a skip. They're loud and occasionally violent and usually very anti-social, using otherwise-worthy causes like animal liberation and green issues as excuses to beat people up. The women usually have icky unwashed hair wrapped up in a scarf, and the guys have dirty punk-like hairstyles, or long-hair-and-Jesus-beard ensembles. All of them are bone-thin, through copious consumption of class As.

And none of them look employable, yet they all have bags of money. You just know it's because their names are Jeremy, Zach and Arabella, and they're living off Daddy's trust fund.

OK, so I sound really stuck-up for saying all that, but they're vile people. After the band they were supporting had played, there was an acapella R&B group on stage. During a female solo, a couple of guys from the crusty group kept on shouting "BOLLOCKS!" which was just downright rude and insulting. I felt really sorry for the singer. And if anyone had objected to their antics, they probably would have had their head kicked in. Fortunately, they left soon afterwards.

C and I didn't get home that night until well after 2am, so we had a mega lie in on Sunday. In fact, we didn't get out of bed until 7.45pm, and then we only stayed up for four and a half hours :-)

But we didn't waste the time we were in bed ;-) For the first time in ages, we had a session with the strap-on, which C has been pestering me to do for while. It was ace!! He's such a dirty bitch (my dirty bitch, hehehe ;-) We're such a pair of sickos...

And one other thing I forgot to mention... C went and got his nostril re-pierced on Friday, which I'm a bit jealous about because I wanted to go with him :-( But it looks really really cute - and he got the ring in his navel replaced with a bar, which looks better then before (and feels more comfortable for him). He's now decided that he wants to get a nipple (or both) pierced, which will be fun. He mentioned something about me getting mine done, but that's one (or two) body part I draw the line at. I don't think I could cope with trying to heal pierced nips, especially after what I've heard you have to go through when you have larger breasts (wearing a seam-free, non-uplift bra for a few weeks? Are you nuts?).

Anyway, that's me for now. Oh yeah - it's Armistice Day, which I'm in two minds about. It's ironic that while we take so much time out to remember the war dead, we're about to go to war again and create more people (on both sides) to mourn. For fuck's sake, let's not go to war again.