Speaking of summer, I just got back from a night by the sea at Shoreham. At least, you could hear the sea. Man, that place is changing. From beachside outpost to new yuppie paradise, all in about three years. I, obviously, am part of this transformation, but I like to think I’m a little subtle about it. First sign of transformation: lots of BMW X5s (possibly the wankiest, thrustiest car around) with P-plates driving round with shaggy beach-types inside. Second sign: the general store now has an outdoor “café-style” seating area tacked on to the front, right next to the 1960s style petrol pump. The place is obviously aware of the presence of city-types, as the store has a huge sign out front advertising “old fashioned friendly service”. The fact they feel they can advertise this means alleged old fashioned service obviously doesn’t exist, something that has been confirmed to me on numerous occasions as they serve me with barely concealed contempt. The level of scorn was so high that as I walked home I was having visions of waking up at night to find the house surrounded by townsfolk in capes, carrying burning torches and demanding that I go back to the ‘burbs. Maybe that’s why I found a doll’s torso by the fence, with its head and arms in my garbage bin. Definately a sign of devil-worship cult-like activities taking place, probably being performed by otherwise straight-laced, middle-class, respectable citizens.