Brrr! There was something in the air on Sunday night, aside from the weather being bloody awful. Every so often the streets of Soho go a little madder than usual, more glasses smash, and more people approach you for money, cursing you more viciously if you do not give. During the show, I made the mistake of saying the moon 'wasn't doing anything very interesting at the moment.' I was rapidly corrected - and I was also wrong.
Our guests on Midnight Sex Talk were Christine Moon, adventurous priestess-in-training, who just happened to be in town and agreed to come on at the last minute; Marco Lovestar, the hero of the night; and Mystery Borealis, artist, stripper and all round party girl. We nearly had four pagans in the studio, but Charlotte, she of the Cafe Alice and the Clitoris Stone, who held a group love-spell on Wednesday (the outcome of which has yet to be revealed), unfortunately ran into some hassle on the way and didn't make it.
Our new text number was very popular, and our nice friends in Australia again gave us their support by email. We're getting more and more international by the minute, darlings! ;-)
As I suspected, starting the show with Satan was not entirely comfortable: it's important to stress that Wicca and devil-worship do not, in general, cross over. But we needed an excuse to play 'Come To The Sabbat' by Black Widow, a shamefully neglected track, IMO.
After my derogatory remarks about Aleister Crowley's silly pyramid hat, I should not have been surprised later when, going through the door of my building, I realised I was being followed by a black dog.
Below, the highly elusive Mystery Borealis.
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