on the sly

During lunch today, instead of working, I snuck out to Junction 8 with two of my colleagues to see Sly.

There were hordes of screaming girls -- some no older than seven, I swear, they were so tiny compared to the already skinny Sly when they hurtled into his arms. I was vaguely ashamed to be there, and hung around the back, trying to look nonchalant.

Anyway, while my colleague was backstage interviewing Sly, he so sweetly got me an autograph.

The crumpled piece of notepad paper says: "To champagne parties! Thanks for your supports! Champagne parties!" and there was a scrawl beneath that.

Apparently, besides the boo-boo with the plural of "supports", he also had to ask how to spell "champagne" and check that "parties" was not spelt "partys".

But do we care? Of course not. Mousey the English teacher has already offered to give him tuition.