Bright unclouded skies

Or Brighton Clouded Skies.
Are there any more Brighton puns left? We'll have to see.

What is Brighton like? You ask, all eager to partake of this old sage's wisdom. Well, since you ask...

It is hip, hep and happening. Full of zip, zap and flattering. Cool
cats cross paths and swords with sea dogs on the Steyne whilst old
goats in faux-fur coats make sheep's eyes at not-so-young babes.
Mutton undressed as lamb.

Babies in buggies are Fairtraded top to toe and paraded up and down the Prom by yummy mummies and Earth Mothers. Dogs and bikers wear bandannas. And hungry, pie-wanting looks. An army of beautiful people, uniform in their individuality (many of whom are studying casualness at the Uni) all scream "look at me". Very quietly.

You can buy a costly Costa coffee or cheap as fish'n'chips. Cockles and mussels and jellied eels and oysters. Chinese, Lebanese, Japanese and (of course) dirty knees.

There are beach huts kitted out in Cath Kidston and, everyhere,
EVERYWHERE, variants on the theme of "Keep Calm and..." -
Carry on.
Keep Shopping.
Get pissed.
Drink Tea.
Drink Wine.
Drink Beer.
Stay Straight.
Stay Queer.

I like it.