It's been another celebrity-packed week in Brighton. I only have to venture outside my front door and I come face to face with a popstar on a trapeze. Well, venture outside my front door and pay £25 to get into the Brighton Centre. But it was money well spent, as proved by this photo of Pink doing the mid-air splits in her underwear. She put on a visually impressive show, which is just as well because I had a group of teenage girls standing behind me who insisted on shouting the words to every song straight into my ear, meaning I couldn't actually hear most of what Pink was singing. But she looked like she was doing a good job. Although I did spend most of the evening wondering about the health and safety implications of dangling twenty feet above the stage on a pair of old curtains.

Not that Pink was alone in her efforts. She was supported (morally speaking - he wasn't holding the curtains) by a man called Mudbone, who, according to his website, gave us "a hold-on-to-your-seats, mind-blowing electrifying journey of controlled craziness through the world of funk and Fresh Mud". Personally I haven't been on a journey through mud since I last went paddling in Southend, and to be honest, I enjoyed that more. He might be a close personal friend of Dave Stewart and Jools Holland, but I can't warm to anyone who raps in a top hat.

So that was Tuesday. Wednesday, however, brought with it an altogether different class of celebrity. Lisa and I were walking through Brighton town centre when who should we see (well, who should *I* see - Lisa, as usual, was looking in the other direction and saw nothing) but Bruce Montague. Yes, Bruce Montague. Bruce Montague played Leonard the love interest in my Mum's favourite sit-com 'Butterflies'. He's barely worked since, but that doesn't matter - the man's a legend. And a Brighton resident. Much like myself. On both counts.

From there, we made our way back to the Brighton Centre for a second night running to see Scottish sensations Deacon Blue. Here's Ricky Ross announcing the official attendance for the evening...

Suffice it to say, it wasn't a sell-out. Which could explain why, four months after Lisa's Mum bought me full-price tickets as a flat-warming present, the Brighton Argus were offering two for the price of one on all Deacon Blue seats. Frankly they couldn't give them away. Which was a shame, because the show was actually very good. It's the fourth time I've seen them, but the first since the tragic death of guitarist Graeme Kelling from pancreatic cancer two years ago. They replaced him with a couple of bald blokes. It wasn't the same.

But despite that, it was an excellent gig, made even better by a support act - Roddy Hart - who was so good I bought his CD in the interval. The only downside was that having foregone my usual stroll down to the pier that afternoon in favour of going out that night, Deacon Blue came on and mentioned they'd been down there with their kids all afternoon trying out the rides. My musical heroes playing the Dolphin Derby ten minutes walk from my flat, and I missed it.