I promise that I will never criticise any woman for the time it takes to get ready ever again (well for a week or two at least!) What a palaver – Make-Up, Bra straps, Fish nets. It is a terribly difficult thing; being a woman. I managed to get the dress on without too much difficulty; the fish net tights were harder, as for the make-up, well that is a real black art. I relied on Helen to smear on the different applications and when she had finished I looked like an evil Danny La Rue. I didn’t exactly sashay into the bar; more like clumped my way around the tables armed with raffle tickets. It was quite a lonely existence until the door opened and there in full girlie regalia stood the T brothers, VP and BK. My God It was scary! They looked so practiced. I referred to the dark underbelly of Prawle in a previous posting and boy, did it rear its tranny head last night. Thank you boys, for your stand of sisterly solidarity. Later Mr. K. arrived I was primed and ready to heavily fine him for his inevitable laughter and insults, but no! He stayed quiet and polite – he was either feeling unwell or determined not to have to put his hands in his pockets. Furthermore, he was dressed as a man, the nerve of the old curmudgeon! I jest; Mr. K. not only dug deep, but played his part rather well as the arbiter of taste and decorum in letting me know in no uncertain terms, that I was without a doubt the ugliest bird he had ever had the misfortune to clap eyes on. He was ably assisted by his partner in crime Mr. B. They passed comment on the attire of their fellow drinkers and made it clear that they would never cross dress – Oh the wonders of Photoshop… Watch this space.

I will publish genuine photos of my cross dressing experience as soon as I have paid the blackmail fee, but in the meantime I would like to thank everyone who made last night so much fun. We raised £150.00 for the First Responders appeal, so all in all it was a worthwhile experience being Doris for the night.