Three things I have to get off my chest. Now.

Thing Number One: I may (and do) lie in real life, but I never lie on this blog.

Thing Number Two: I have a problem with crossdressers. Riding on the N5 to Camden Town last week I was on the top deck with a tattooed, rather unattractive crossdresser. It wasn't the first time I'd seen him either, and it made me uncomfortable - such things often do. True, he was minding his own business and I was minding mine (it wasn't like he was making a scene like some genuine jerks have on the buses), and if he's fine like that then good; but I just have difficulty warming to that particular choice. That's likely to be one reason why I never really liked Boy George (admittedly "The War Song" and his colossal bitchiness are ultimately bigger factors), and why I've always been left cold by men dressing as women for laughs (with all due respect to Lily Savage). Lifestyle choice it may be, but part of it is a bit like men horning in on something that's still primarily female territory - namely, their gender; transgenders in one direction or the other are an entirely different thing. Irrational prejudice? Yeah. And I'm not proud of it. Mind you, like I said the guy was tattooed and unattractive. Maybe if he was goodlooking it would be another story.

Thing Number Three: I don't know where Jen's gone, but I miss her. A lot.