oh, and here's my memories of Sunday...

cold wind, stockings, strange fitting clothes, pub toilet, back streets, laughing at people trying to find a park on church street, burning sun, boring jewellery, escaping the crowds, a new red parasol, beer, a blue rug and friends, old-school sausage in a roll, dash home for a bit, boy goes home *waves bye*, more beer, crowd wandering, too many 'Jets' caps, dust, friends, more beer, more dust, portaloo queue, wandering, hunt out more friends, wandering home, shower and costume change, dull pub dykes with too much sun and beer under their belts, *waves bye*, queue jumping, front row perving, mingling, more beer, stockings, corsets, cellulite thighs, more beer, more crowd wandering, dismissing compliments, plans half-made, yawning, no more beer, laughing, run home in the cold wind, alone up Parramatta Rd in a very tight corset, 10 minutes later in bed, no more energy left to even think about the day.