It seems only yesterday that the PV girls arrived with a big pot of purple paint and revolutionised Brighton's local pubbing forever. Tonight, we raised a glass, or two, or three, or four at what is now a Brighton institution.

Whether you're propping up the bar and ogling the Vicky bust with the extraordinary nipples (you have to go to know), staring wide-eyed at DJ Rascal as he pulls yet another bizarre track out of his capacious bag that you thought might have been relegated to a dim and distant past, chatting to all the locals you know either vaguely or intimately, smirting in the alley or just engaging in a little witty repartee about nothing in particular with Nicki and Gill, the PV experience really is incomparable.

Tonight was no exception. Why should it be?

Happy Birthday ladies!