Dear Varsity,

A Hallowe’en special: blood! urine! Hamburg!

I get attacked by the lesbians most Hallowe’ens. Last night, at the Berlin Alternative Porn Film Festival Afterparty (nu-urr), a conclusive defeat on my part. I got a splinter and a slight nosebleed. Last year they left me for dead at the bottom of Columbia Road. The year before I went to Ficken 3000. It was a lesbian-only club, so I had to use my woman’s intuition. Feminine wiles. Well, I pulled a scarf over my head and charmed the door whore in my butchest falsetto. I got in of course – into a darkroom maze, a sort of labyrinthine sex-dungeon. I saw things there no man should ever see. In some dark fumble the scarf was pulled from my head. There was a pregnant pause. Then five fanged lesbians gave up whatever they had been doing and moved in for the kill. I ran. They chased me a good four streets, so I pulled into a dark alleyway, turned my coat inside out, scribbled a moustache onto my upper lip... and got savagely beaten when they caught up. It was then that I realised that I was a master of disguise.

So I went to Hamburg to see some girl. We got drunk. I got lost looking for a park to piss in.

So I pissed on a car. A police car. They arrested me. I pretended to have a fit. They took me to hospital. In hospital I was thrown on the floor and stuck up like a pincushion. I love a nip of saline now and then. I had to play dead for three hours until the policemen guarding me had turned away. Then I ran: upstairs, downstairs, through a cancer ward and a triple bypass. I reached the front door but out on the street now a row of doctors and policemen had formed to catch me. So I – I ran back, took a green gown and mask from a cupboard in the basement, walked, calmly, through the cordon, and slipped away unseen.

I am good you know.

Ali