Lt Geo.'s party

I have been really busy again and haven't had a chance to write about Lt George's party, which was a blast. I met a kindred (evil) spirit Simon, and before too long we were rifling through George's possessions, trying on his flying suit and posing for pictures. We were just about to do a comedy series of shots with Lt George's toothbrush disappearing down Simon's underpants which we would email to Lt George the following week by which time he would have used the tainted toothbrush on numerous occasions, but George walked in and spoiled the surprise. There were a collection of handsome A Gays, a couple of very chatty American ladies and a small child. I of course spent the evening chatting to the ladies and the child! Typical! I should have been finding an A Gayer. I brought Lt George a t shirt from Duffer with the old Back To The Future logo on it which I thought would go down well at Popstarz. Lt George tried it on and Simon, Ned and I squealed at how big it made his biceps look. A couple of students from the Uni were there too. Lt George unwrapped on gift, a fluffy neon pink dog and a teddy bear and I couldn't contain my laughter, "Lt Geo, who on earth brought you that hideous dog?"
"Actually, I did." Said the student standing to my left, "It's a collectors item"
I had grabbed the gifts and was photographing them in simulated sex acts.
"I don't think you are a nice person at all." said the student.
"No, he is completely evil" said Simon winking.
Lt George ushered the student away, thanking him as only a polite American can for the delightful gift.

We all drank alot. The cute student from Texas with the pierced lip seemed to have imbibed more than most. He went through all the stages of drunk; happy, aggressive, morose, comatose (I have a couple of good pictures!) and finally he projectile vomited all over Lt Geo's ensuite. Brilliant.

Buy the Book

Last night was Big Word Will's book launch. It was at his publisher's house and there was a really eclectic mix of people. Flattie and I met at Hammersmith as Iain Mac who was supposed to be driving us was delayed at his healing session with the Psychic Natalia. We grabbed a glass of wine, gave Will a hug and walked into the living room. Flattie was on sparkling form, and had soon engaged the Andy Warhol look-a-like next to him in conversation. It turns out the Andy Warhol guy was the husband of Will's old English Teacher who passed away last year, and to whom Will has dedicated his new novel. We were almost in tears and we'd only been there five minutes. Standing next to Andy Warhol was a tall, attractive fellow who Flattie and I both recognised. After the usual exchanges we had managed to establish he was from Clapham and he knows the Johns. I asked him where he knew them from and he explained that he really only knows JC. Before I could find out more Flattie hissed in my ear, "He knows JC, you idiot!"
I grabbed my wine glass and walked through the kitchen where Dale was trying to decide if he should accept the offer of a lead in the tour of Mamma Mia. He has already been in the West End run for a year, but this would be playing a different character. I said if I was in his shoes my decision would be based on where the tour was going. I must admit, Germany, Belfast, Edinburgh and South Africa would not be on my top ten destinations. Will introduced us to his nephew, who looks like Will did when I first met him, when dinosaurs ruled the Earth. I walked into the garden and was introduced to Tom. We debated Jamie and Jules Oliver (who should have been on my list of 5 things I don't get) and then moved onto reality TV in general. Tom dates one half of The Reader's Wives and Will's ex, David who had also joined the Jules and Jamie debate had done some vocals on their new single. He played it for me on his iPod. It sounds a bit like an old Divine record, and David has added some muy caliente Spanish vocals. I expect I will be jumping around to it in the near future. By now Iain Mac was floating above the crowd as Natalia's energy channelling had kicked in and so he and Flattie dragged me out of the party to get some food. Not before I managed a sneaky kiss goodbye with the lawyer that knows JC.

We drove back to Clapham and had tapas at Rincon Latino and then popped into the Kazbar to meet Paul and Andy. I saw Florian, who as usual was looking super hot. He gave me a big hug and of course I melted like a teenager. Flo told me that Posh Jamie was in town last week and has got married to the Brazilian! I am waiting for official confirmation and have fired off an email to Singapore today.

Paul and Andy insisted I join them in The Sewers to watch Drag Idol. Amateur drag competition/car crash, highly entertaining. I wonder if Leather and Lace should enter?

Purple ears!

Today I have a purpley black left ear and a greeny purple left eye! I didn't think your ears could bruise!

Last night I went to see my mate Ness strut her stuff at the Opera House. She was one of the 6 Princesses the Prince turns down at the ball before he gets off with the evil Odile. I texted her before the show to warn her not to wear the same colour frock as the other 5 (They normally all wear the same!), she replied that she was going on nude, the Prince would not be able to resist!! Act 3, on come the Princesses and no, Ness is not nude. On comes Darcey Bussell in her little black dress and once again the Prince chooses her. It a castastrophe, lightening flashes and Odette, the Swan Princess who he vowed to marry and love forever in Act 2, beats her wings against the palace window and then jumps in the lake and drowns. The End.

Afterwards I met Ness in the pub and we decided that she is definitely nicking the little black dress for the next show, and being a bit more pushy. Princess number 6 will outwit Odette and Odile! Tra la!

Feeling a bit better, thanks...

Today I had to go to the Police Station to "Log my incident." PC Sally was really nice and sympathetic, especially when it came to the description of the two guys. I explained it all happened so quickly I didn't really get a good look at the guys. I felt a bit stupid going to the station and trying to describe people I didn't really see clearly. Sally said that even as a Police Officer if she was in a similar situation she would probably not be able to describe her attackers, so I didn't feel quite as dumb. I could remember their approximate height and that they were wearing dark clothing, so I guess that is better than nothing. Sally also explained that they may have been caught on CCTV and so if they could check the footage and see me walking down the road the chances are they would be able to see them too.

My face is not as swollen as Monday, the cut on my head is healing up, the headaches are not as bad, I only have a tiny bit of a black eye and I do feel fine. Bloody lucky. I came into work yesterday and of course everyone was super nice. I went to Rupert's Private view after work but I had a headache that was getting worse and so I went home early. At 10pm Rory sent me a text which said, "I am standing outside your front door to make sure there are no muggers, any chance of a cuppa?" I looked out the window and indeed he was! Normally I would say this was a sweet gesture, but last night all I wanted to do was get some sleep. I went downstairs and let him in. I explained I was knackered and he cycled off to Shoreditch. I went back upstairs and felt mean.

Mugged

This should have been a post about what a fantastic weekend I had.The weather was great, my mate Simon took me to the theatre on Saturday to see The Cholmondleys and The Featherstonehaughs’ 20th anniversary show. I went on to Duckie and they were all there too, a brilliant evening. On Sunday the sun shone, I pumped up the tyres on Flying Sue and rode over to The Johns. It was the first time Sue has been out all year, and I was suddenly planning cycle journeys to work this week alongside the Thames in the Spring brightness. John showed me all the planting they had done on bank holiday weekend. It’s all starting to grow in well. I am very jealous of their garden, the huge deck and the magical orchard bit at the bank. We sat on the deck and after an hour we could both feel the sun making our skin tingle.

I cycled home, showered and headed out to meet Flattie for a night of Gay Bingo. We nipped into The Poundshop because on an earlier reccy I noticed they had a small stash of bingo dobbers, the special pens that professional bingoers use, that mark a whole number with one move, essential for the speed bingo rounds. When we got to the T building it was heaving. Loads more people than last time. It was Tan’s 30th birthday, he was there with Adrian, Jeremy and a couple of others, Lt George was there too. Flattie and I shared out the dobbers and brought a bottle of the house finest! There was a vague 80’s theme to the night. But the guy who calls out the numbers first choice of costume, some elaborate Dangerous Liaisons style frock, wig and mask ensemble, was rather impractical as he couldn’t actually see the numbers. I get completely over excited by the whole thing, although I have yet to win. The Johns and Iain arrived late and because the place was so full had to wait in line outside. After half an hour the queue hadn’t moved so they went off to The George and The Dragon. I was explaining the rules of the Speed Bingo round to the girl and boy next to us Catherine and her brother Ray. Ray is deaf and had missed out on a prize in the first round because he couldn’t see the number flicker clearly. Some one attempted to sign the numbers, but he was only just learning BSL and so his signing was not upto speed. I am too rusty to sign as fast as I need to, so Roy moved down to the front and I hung out with Catherine and the boys. Adrian’s boyfriend was getting a bit out of control and had started to use his dobber to draw a huge penis on Adrian's back, and graffiti the walls. We took his dobber away and gave it to Catherine.

After a couple more rounds we got a message from the Johns to say they had all gone to Horsemeat. Feeling guilty about how much fun we had with out them we jumped in a cab and headed down to Vauxhall. By the time we got there the Johns had left but Andy was still there and Aussie David and his cute mate, and Modern David and a bunch of others. Michaels stayed for a bit and then said he was off. I was talking to the Davids and so I said I would stay for another drink. After half an hour I left the club and took a minicab home. I paid the driver and walked to our front door.

What followed happened so quickly I can’t really be sure about anything. Our main entrance door has a mechanism which means it swings shut automatically, but quite slowly. I think two guys had seen me pay the cab and followed me in through the main door. As I started up the stairs I was aware of them and the next thing I knew they were trying to grab me and telling me to give them money. I started yelling at the top of my voice hoping that someone would come out into the stairwell. I was petrified that they might have a knife. They shoved me up against the wall and I felt one of them reaching into my jeans pocket. I pushed him off and carried on yelling “Help” as they punched and kicked me. I curled up into a ball. Suddenly they stopped and ran down the stairs. Flattie had heard me yelling and had come out to see what was going on. He took me inside and called the police. I think they must have kicked me in the head when I was curled up because I had a cut on the side of my head and blood dripping down my neck. Flattie was amazing. He called the police and calmed me down. I felt so helpless. I couldn’t even describe them.

I woke up this morning with one side of my head throbbing. It was a bit swollen. Flattie knocked on my door to check if I was OK. I said I should stay home. I texted work to let them know and later Kathy called to check on me. She was so sweet on the phone, it made me teary. I was so lucky. It could have been so much worse. As people have heard they have called or sent messages, which is really kind. Anyway, it just goes to show how unpredictable life can be. You can be having the most fantastic time and then suddenly something f**ks it right up. Hopefully I will be back to fantastic tomorrow.

5 Things

Grrr! Having a tricky day at work and now Mr Renzi has tagged me in a game of Blog Meme's! I now have to write a list of 5 things that society-at-large likes, yet I don't get.
1. South African accents.
I have nothing against South Africans, I have met some very nice ones. However, even the really nice ones just sound rude. It's something about the tone of voice. I find it really grating. Actually I don't believe society-at- large really likes the South African accent, so perhaps this doesn't count.

2. Rap Music
I am not down with da kidz and most certainly do not wanna slap ma bitch up. I think I must be getting old. I like pretty tunes.

3. London Underground
It's dirty, hot and overcrowded. My very least favourite thing is when a via Bank train pulls into Kennington and there is a via Charing Cross Train on the other platform, which closes it's doors and pulls out of the station just as 150 commuters have leaped off the Bank train and belted across the platform. Grrrrr! Why couldn't you have waited 10 more seconds? The next via Charing Cross train is inevitably 13 minutes away.
4. Cooked Fruit
Eversince I was a child I have always disliked the taste and texture. No mince pies, apple pie or rhubarb crumble for me please. *Gags at thought*

5.Football (Soccer)
Another one from my school days. Possibly because my dad was not a fan and I don't have any brothers and so I never really got the hang of kicking a ball around. By the time I got to school age most boys my age knew the rules, had favourite players, a team kit and didn't flinch when a ball was kicked in their direction. I never caught up. Even watching Freddie Ljungberg running around wears a bit thin after the first 40 minutes.

6. (In case No.1 didn't count) George Bush/Tony Blair
Both voted in again. Why?

Puma/Diesel

Last night there were two fashion party invites on my desk. A box set of postcards from the lovely people at Diesel for their Noir Nuit launch at the store on the Kings Road and an email print out from someone on the women's division for the Puma Party. Diesel always throw a good bash and usually a nice gift on the way out (last season's sunnies were a particular favourite!) last night was more subdued. Great Mojitos, disappointing giftage (Black leather wallet/clutchbag) and one C list TV presenter. Still the traitors who left us to set up their own rival agency were there and it was good to catch up and have a bit of a gossip.

I was with some models and they were bored of shop talk and so we jumped in a cab and whizzed over to Paddington Street for Puma. In the taxi it was the usual model gossip. I cannot reveal which male model is allegedly humping a top male designer to boost his profile because I really don't think it's true. The story of the top photographer who offered a cute South African Surfer the chance to appear in a huge campaign if he noshed him off and then just took a couple of polaroids of the hapless boy and sent him on his way, is probably true.

Puma was in a cool space. The drinks were not as fancy, but I liked the idea of having a fake band of mannequins standing at the far end of the room with animated cartoon faces projected onto their heads, so it appeared as if they were yelling/blinking and singing. FYI it didn't work if you stood in front of one of the mannequins and closed your eyes unless the projection was the green one. I would illustrate with pictures but my camera was in my other bag. More models, more cool people. Lovely James who was just back from LA and looking very cute with his sister wearing a Jonathan Saunders. (why do I feel proud?) A guy from Friendster who I freaked a little bit by saying I recognised him from Friendster and an annoying person who writes for a website and is in love with one of my Brazilians. Oh, they had chips with ketchup too! Yum.

I left at 9.45 and headed to the tube to meet Fox who is off to NYC and give him my free cocktail card for the Dream Hotel. We met in the Kazbar which Flattie said had been heaving last week. There were four other people there when I arrived. I will have to ask Flattie what he means by heaving. Fox pitched up and we decided that everyone must be in the Brewers. They were not. It was just a Karaoke Night. FOx was going to sing a Texas song. I was going to do Love Is In The Air, but it was full of professional Karaoke types who ha already written about 30 request each. Fox then started working the Scottish thing and before I knew it he was talking to some hulk of a fella and had that twinkle in his eye. I left them to it. Walked home and watched a bit of my Kid Creole DVD that arrived in the morning. Blimey, it's a school night. I need my bed!

Frustrating

Today at 9am tickets went on sale for Antony and The Johnsons gig. The Website crashed and the phone lines were constantly engaged. After three hours I finally managed to log on and hold the last two seats, then the system crashed again. I refreshed, but it was too late. Total sell out. :-(

Oooh!

I just found out that someone I had a crush on from afar for over a year is actually gay. I have moved my screen so I can see the old cover of Time Out I reduced and stuck on my wall of shame. I have been imagining his thighs all afternoon!

Bank Holiday

The first weekend in May is always a holiday in the UK. I am not sure why, possibly heralding the start of Summer or something Pagan. However amongst my gay friends it seems to be an excuse to take as many drugs as they can get their hands on. Even the more abstemious of our little gang had tales to tell of over indulgence. It doesn’t usually bother me as I am normally tucked up in bed by the time they all get cracking (pun intended!) and we regroup when they have come down or climbed out of their K Holes. However this Sunday I thought the plan was to all meet up in the evening and go out en masse, something we haven’t done properly in ages. We all had Monday off and so we could go to the Sunday Night shindigs that are normally off limits.

I put on my going out gear and walked round to the pub. The Scot and Grumpy had been there for an hour already, but there was no sign of the rest. It being a Bank Holiday The Scot and Grumpy discussed their drug consumption, fairly low key coke and Viagra combinations. They both discussed the merits of there respective shags, a power top and a bloke with a town house and very large nipples. Grumpy’s was the one with enhanced nipples. Intrigued he asked how the bloke got them so big, before he had time to pop another pill the guy had Grumpy’s shirt off and was attaching suction cups to his chest. How very modern!

The Scot called the others but there was no reply. I called them and faired no better. It must have been a heavy night. We ate some Thai food in the pub. We had another drink. The others texted to say they would be out later, they were waiting for a pizza to be delivered. After the Thai food we walked up the road to the Kazbar. Grumpy was telling me how upset and shaken he had been witnessing a fight outside the Kazbar on Friday night. He had already told me once, but he seemed really upset by it so I let him tell me again. The crowd at The Kazbar was unattractive and had spilled onto the pavement outside. It looked like the Yumbo Centre in Gran Canaria. Another drink. Still no sign of the others. I asked Grumpy and Scot if the would come to Horsemeat Disco with me but neither wanted to go, they wanted to stay in the Kazbar. I went out side and called White John. He sounded so groggy I must have woken him up. I asked if he was coming out and he told me that Flattie had gone to bed and if I had a plan. I told him the plan had been meet in the Railway and go to Horsemeat Disco but that clearly was not going to happen, then I hung up.

I went back inside and told the others I was staying for one more drink. Grumpy said, “ Are you feeling let down?” and I told him that yes I was. He then started going on about how I shouldn’t rely on my friends, I should become more self sufficient. He then changed tack and said they hadn’t really let me down and that I should make the most of the night and go off and explore this great world by myself. I wanted to punch him. I realised I should not have picked last week to stop taking St Johns Wort. I looked around the Kazbar , it did not look wonderful. I finished my pint and walked home. As I walked through the front door my phone beeped. It was Flattie apologising for falling asleep. He hoped I had fun. I texted him back to say that no, I had not had fun, and then he started getting irate about not having actually made a plan, it was just a tentative arrangement, nothing definite. I sent back a “Whatever!” which I knew would really wind him up and went to bed.

I have decided that I will try and go away for the next Bank Holiday, or possibly just drop in and see all the boys at The Betty Ford Clinic.