18.02.2005 - 2:05 p.m.

My new prison is by the sea ( that�s more like it ) and has a cat, who probably doesn�t know about the sea, but that�s just as well. The cat belongs to The New Number 1, and is a person cat, not a �stay out all the time and sod you except when I�m hungry when I�ll be all over you like a furry rash� cat. Primarily �cos he�s not allowed outside where building sites and stupid traffic bring death to unwary poozles.

The upside of his incarceration ( he is the only true prisoner in the house and carries the name No. 16 ) is that he�s up for playing all the time which makes him an �entertainment cat�, he�s also softer than an implosion in a beanie babies factory. He also chases stuff which isn�t there.
Or rather I can�t see it, but the way his eyes are moving, tracking stuff as moves about and then doing that cute �twin-front paw-stamping-thing� that kittens do to bits of carpet, but bigger and like he�s actually trying to kill it. I know there�s no catnip in the house he can get to unaided but he�s proper going at summat, the same sort of thing as cats who actually get to hunt real butterflies do, all jumping around and then running about.

I reckon that there�s another dimension, a parallel reality if you will, slightly out of phase with ours, and it oscillates back and forth, sometimes closer, sometimes further away, as it moves closer the two cause interference in each other and stuff leaks through.

No. 16 is ( and probably most cats are ) sensitive to this interference and can see whatever is happening in that reality, and in all fairness to them it�s probably some kind of parallel type butterfly, on a world where butterflies are the top predator through an evolutionary quirk, but this reality doesn�t have cats and the shredded butterfly destruction they impart.

In an underground military testing facility, butterfly scientists are working to widen the gap between the two realities with arcane and mysterious artefacts ( they�re well ahead of us scientifically ) so that the dreaded creatures can never cross over, but secret covens of nihilist butterflys use ancient texts and old magic to bring the two dimensions together and issue forth the Furry Destroyer.

And deep in the middle of it, a plucky heiress of old magic fighting for good, and her band of chums use kickass moves to harass the �evil ones� whenever they start materialising, something like Butty, no not that, how about Buftyfly, nah, oh I remember, Buffyfly, yeah that�s it, Buffyfly, you go girl.

Or possibly ghost rats. Which are more likely in the scheme of things.

This could just be a shameless opportunity for posting some fluffy pics (which have come out far larger than i expected, but without an art package on this laptop I'm unable to adjust them) of No.16, the question is, am i bigger than that ?

obviously not, here's No.16 looking slightly more intelligent than normal

Same photo shoot but exposing more furry belly than usual

The "I'm not playing any more, will you just bugger off position"

On a few occasions in the past I came to brighton for a friends party�s, these party�s were pretty good but were noticable for the high �weirdo� count. This was a type of weird I wasn�t used to and was characterised by various behaviours I�ve not seen before or since. I also thought that these people were isolated incidents, a random statistical fluke you�ll get in any social gathering.

It seems I was wrong.

Since being I can confirm that these strange people are the norm or at least their numbers are high enough to form a serious part of the population. I won�t bore you with the ins and outs of it but it�s safe to say, I�ve seen things happen here that shouldn�t be happening, acts of pure stupidity and ignorance ( mostly ignorance ) that begger belief. I�ve been told that a town a short distance away is a breeding ground for six toed, slack-jawed morons, and it seems that they learnt how to reproduce some time in the past �cos there�s fuckin� hundreds of them now.

And it�s not quite �London-by-Sea� either because there�s not the same...well it just doesn�t have the same feel as London, it�s just one mish-mash of Georgian and modern architecture all squashed together with a healthy injection of fools filling the cracks. So where�s the difference you say ? I can�t explain it, it just is so there.