Up close and personal

We performed on Saturday night at a big birthday bash for one of our glamorous showgirls. An afternoon of rain dashed our hopes of dancing on the outdoor decking, so we danced in her lounge instead.

It was a trifle snug for the three of us, it must be said. Old hands at this game, we set ourselves up to dance facing in three different directions, in the hope of minimising the opportunity for flesh wounds and collateral damage as three showgirl legs are kicked up and out at once or as three arms extend out smartly to the same side.

As strategies go, it wasn't entirely successful, as the Voluptuous Jules can attest having been hat-swatted by both me and the Sparkly Bra Pixie during one routine.

Initially a trifle perplexed, our audience soon warmed to us. A couple of chaps on the sofa, just inches away from the Voluptuous Jules as she leaned over, were excitedly encouraging each other to take photos. "That'll be a full-on cleavage shot, then," thought Jules as she did her showgirl thang.

Ah well, they may not recognise us by our face if they stand next to us at a bus stop, but they'll definitely have something to remember us by.

Having plied us with fish and chips; entertained us with a band and a DJ; and kept the drink flowing, our hostess then showered us with "thank you" flowers at class last night. As backstage Johnnies or patrons of the arts go, she's a class act.

Yours, filling up the viewfinder,

Burlicious x