Meanwhile...

Arts and Craft

2008-02-02T09:56:00.001-08:00

I just realised the last blog was written during London Fashion Week in September and today we are 2 weeks away from LFW A/W 08. I stopped writing here, as it had become impossible to be honest about my feelings about certain people and situations without there being some unpleasant repercussions. I suppose I should heed the advice of Josh and Josh and try to avoid using it as an online personal journal. That is a bit frustrating as that is exactly what I wanted this to be. Hmmm.

The other thing is pretty much everyone I know has deserted MySpace for the joys of Facebook. I am not a total convert. I don't like the way Facebook notifies everyone on your friends list of your every move, but because you can only access profiles of people who are actually your friends you can't do the snooping and eavesdropping that makes MySpace so much fun.

I finally brought a cd lazer cleaner which seems to have fixed the tempermental stereo system, and it is playing cds again first time. The cleaner cost 6 quid and so I think I have saved about £194 as it was getting to the stage where I was going to chuck it out and buy a new one. You may also be intersted to know that I broke the leg on the coffee table. I have ordered a new one, which will be sent to me in....May!! I tried using selotape to stick the old one on, but it hasn't worked, so 4 paper backs are standing in for the moment. Fortunately you can onky see them if you are on the balcony and I doubt anyone will be out there before May, so keep quiet! I also picked up a new ironing board cover, but the clip for the strings was missing so I have knotted them and hopefully it will stay in place.

Performance wise I have been a bit lazy. In January I was lucky enough to see The Feeling play through the new album in front of a live audience for the first time. It was at Porchester Hall and the accoustics are not brilliant but the guys put on a good show and I can't wait to get hold of the album this month. I also managed to catch the London run of Mary Poppins before it goes on tour. It is a fantastic show. A wonderful feel good musical, great performances, fun songs and spectacular sets and effects. I was only sad I hadn't seen it earlier in the run because I would have dragged everyone to see it. If you get the chance do try and catch the tour, although how they are going to achieve some of the effects in regional theatres is beyond me.

My friend Baylen took me to see a show that formed part of the London Mime Festival. A Korean company had reworked Woyzeck, the story of a German soldier, who becomes mentally disturbed as a result of his treatment in the army and kills his lover. Something nice and light for a Saturday afternoon! The company use only their own bodies and wooden chairs to create the scenery. They conjure up a graveyard, a medical torture chamber, a bustling market, a crowded and rowdy bar in the most surprising ways. The ability to tell such a complex and dark story without words astounded me. I loved it.

Last night I was at Sadlers Wells for La La La Human Steps performance of Amjad. The Quebec based company are renowned for their athleticism, and at times the performance was hair raising. The press release summarises the show thus: Amjad draws on the most famous of romantic ballets, Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty. On stage a quartet of piano, cello and violins play a score by Gavin Bryars, who adapts and rearranges Tchaikovsky's original score with gorgeous results. Against a projected film montage of forests and pearls, nine dancers perform with impressive precision, demonstrating graceful, classical movement - but at twice the normal speed.

I think to really enjoy this piece it helps to be familiar with the classical versions of Swan Lake and Sleeping Beauty . The choreographer Lock plays with the traditional form and produces some devastating results. However at 1 hour 45 minutes wth no interval and no linear form to speak of I did think it was a little too long. The opening Pas De Deux was possibly my favourite and one of the most spectacular, you could sense the audience really sitting up and thinking, "what is this?" There is also a PDD with both the boy and girl en pointe. I was really struck by the effect pointe shoes have on a dancer's proportions. I am used to seeing ballerinas with long limbs, but to see a man in trousers with distended legs was a bit of a shock. The dancer was still very masculine, but his body seemed so much shorter in proportion to his legs. Interesting.

Earlier in the week I saw Tom Baxter play The Shepherd's Bush Empire. Tom is really hard to define. I suppose it's a sort of Folk/Rock. He reminds me of Jeff Buckley. His band consists of drums, keyboards, guitar, three violins, a cello and a double bass and the sound was brilliant. If you get the chance do go and see him, I think he is going to be huge.

Waiting for 7.15

2007-10-02T10:30:00.000-07:00

I have a date. I saw him at Duckie on Saturday night. He waited to let me past at the toilet. We smiled at each other. I saw him a little later as I was being dragged off to Rebel Rebel. There was something about him so I wrote my number down and slipped it to him as I left. He texted me his number and we had a flurry of messages on Sunday. I spoke to him on Monday and we have arranged to go for a drink tonight. I do not have a good date outfit on. I was in a rush this morning and when I put on my planned shirt and jean combination it looked all wrong. I didn't have time to rethink and iron, so it's a sweater and jeans. Hmmm. He works till 7pm and so I have to wait behind at work and get to the bar for 7.30.

We had drinks for Grumpy's birthday, but I was good and passed on the booze as I don't want to rock up 2 drinks ahead of him. The gang here have all gone to an opening of a new luxury pet store, with Stanley in tow. Yes, we will turn up to anything!

Busy week

2007-09-24T05:29:00.000-07:00

This week has been London Fashion Week. There are only a handful of shows showing menswear, and so it's been a time for us to catch up on updating portfolios, cards and online material. I went along to 2 parties on Tuesday evening; the launch of Volt magazine which was in a shop off Carnaby Street. Volt magazine is a new large format tome, the launch was for Issue 2. It's beautifully printed and the menswear shoot by Dominic Cooper is fantastic. Of course, it's new so they don't pay anything. The party was pretty busy, I was with Greg and Soraya from the Women's desk, we only recognised a couple of people and the music was too loud to talk over so we left and headed over to the iD/Kickers party at Marylebone Library. Various designers had been asked to come up with their interpretation of the classic Kickers boot. Each design had been given it's own shelving area within the library. On the second floor there was a dance floor and a screening room, but as we were fairly early it was still quite empty. We grabbed a couple of Mojito's and had a look at the shoes:

Wednesday evening was the opening night of the new Christopher Wheeldon Company, Morphoses. There has been much buzz about this project. Chris has gathered the cream of the crop of classical dancers from London and New York and the programme sounded exciting, with both new works and old favourites. The first piece from which the company draws it's name, Morphoses is set to a string quartet by Gyorgy Ligeti. It's one of those modern pieces that you either love or hate and I would not have listened to before I moved in with Flattie. Two pairs of dancers weave complex patterns and unusual lifts, sometimes as a four sometimes as duos. The dancers were incredible and I loved it. However the next section was very disappointing. Vicissitude by Edwaard Liang, just showed what an inventive choreographer Wheeldon is. It seemed incomplete and uninspired. Next up was Slingerland pas de deux an old William Forsythe ballet. It served to demonstrate the source of some of Wheeldon's inspiration but the costumes are a real distraction. The boy looks like an oven chip and the girl is wearing a Pringle as a tutu. Finally the Prokofiev pas de deux, again choreography by Wheeldon, danced by superstars Alina Cojocaru and Johan Kobborg. This combination, composer, choreography and dancers should have been breathtaking, but it just failed to ignite and seemed rather pedestrian. I was really disappointed. The third section proved a redemption, After The Rain was a return to choreographic form by Wheeldon and beautifully danced by the six men and women. I had expected to leave feeling elated, but honestly was a little disappointed.

Friday was due to see Fiona and Bex, but Fiona had to cry off so we ended up in Strada with the Johns and Iain Mac. Bex was on top form and we had a great evening. I taught her how to wear her McQueen scarf properly. Some of us ended up in The Sewers. Messy.

Saturday I slept in late and then rushed into town to pick up Paul White's birthday present. (The new novel by Julian Clary and the new Hed Kandi Summer Compilation CD) Town was horribly busy, so kept it to a minimum although did treat myself to a couple of CD bargains. A Kruder and Dorfmeister, An Ibiza Compilation and a Master Cuts bar compilation. All would be brilliant to play in the office but of course I broke the CD player and so we are stuck with the radio. In the evening the Johns had the unveiling of the work they had done on their house. It's taken about 4 months but the result is amazing ! the entire downstairs has been reworked and it looks incredible. A huge living space, internal courtyard and new kitchen dining area. Paul White, Amir, Flattie Iain Mac and I are all totally jealous. We had a brilliant evening and didn't leave until the early hours.

Pictures

2007-09-20T02:34:00.000-07:00

As you can see below I haven't quite experimented enough with inserting pictures and writing text, but it gives you an idea of some of the things we did/saw last weekend.

the rest of the weekend

2007-09-18T03:12:00.001-07:00

On Saturday evening Flattie and I went to Barcode to meet Rob, Tan, Carlo and the GB. There were another couple of Rob's friends there who I didn't recognise but Flattie later revealed that one of them had declared love for him at a BBQ earlier in the Summer. We had a couple of drinks and then headed over to Duckie. We were treated to 3 performances, a terrible punk pop duo. A boy and girl in pants and duct-taped nipples shouting terrible lyrics. Then a trio of burlesque girls and finally a brilliant singer-songwriter from New York. Flattie was still singing her, "Don't rape me! Don't rape me!" refrain on Sunday morning. We danced the rest of the night away and at 2am I returned home and the boys went onto Crash for Queer Nation.

On Sunday we had thought about maybe doing Gay Zoo, I was having one of those mornings in bed with a book and nice coffee from the new machine and so when Flattie texted me from his room next door (How lazy?) we decided to give it a miss but maybe head down to the Thames Festival in the afternoon. By now we had dragged ourselves from our respective beds. Flattie was hobbling around. He had been doing a spectacular version of the opening dance sequence from West Side Story and misjudged a jump. He landed badly and now had two very swollen and purple toes. FYI: Flattie has no formal dance training and the music at Queer Nation does not include movie soundtracks.

Accordionist Ian called from the Festival and told us to avoid it at all costs. Apparently it was really overcrowded and there were just a few stalls selling tie dye hammocks and incense. It was so busy people were using prams and wheelchairs as battering rams. Urgh! We stayed on the sofa's and found ourselves sucked into a TV show called "Come Dine With Me". We loved the dipso business woman who found love on the last dinner date. We headed off to Gay Bingo at around 6.30pm and negotiated our way through the crowds of skinny jeaned East End trendies. They were filming for Eurotrash and we spotted Antoine de Caunes, who still looks totally hot. As a warm up for the first game Johnny Woo came out in a fat suit and red lycra bikini and lip-synched to a Euro disco hit. It was about the same level as Britney's VMA appearance last week. He gave up half way through. The cutest boy in the room won the first game. The couple on our table fell out over who was marking the card.
"You do it"
"No, you do it"
"I can't do it, it's too fucking fast."
"Come on, you can do it"
"I can't fucking do it, and you're not even trying. You haven't even crossed anything off."

They left after the first game.

Rob and GB arrived, Johnny Woo did a number from Les Mis (he knew all the words!) and we played another round. Ma Butcher and Jon Sizzle had a new look for each game too. The cutest boy in the room was having felt tip pen tattoos drawn on his bum by the rest of his table. The GB spotted his latest crush, who he had just discovered was a sex addict hooker. Nice. Accordionist Ian arrived. Johnny Woo came out with a gorilla's head on and a huge strap on dildo and did a number from Cabaret. we played another game and I was one number away from a full house. Grrr. Another performance another game and then we were in a taxi down to Horsemeat Disco. Quite a few of the people at Bingo had done the same thing, sadly not the cutest guy in the room.

Flattie was putting in ground work with a guy on holiday from Amsterdam. Tony Fletcher was DJ-ing. Then Luke Howard came on and I was throwing shapes on the dance floor to Diana Ross, "No One Gets The Prize/The Boss". We departed.

and then...

2007-09-15T06:38:00.000-07:00

I had just finished typing the last entry and my flatmate comes home and tells me that he has some bad news about my lovely ex Rob. He's been having some problems with his stomach for a while, we thought it was possibly an ulcer. However it is considerably worse, he has been diagnosed with cancer of the stomach and oesophagus. He starts chemo next week. He's having a final blowout tonight. Shit.

2007-09-15T06:11:00.000-07:00

Much of Friday was spent oohing and ahhing over two new things in the office. Hannah brought in her puppy Stanley and Julien showed off his new iPod Nano that Pablo had brought him from NY. I want them both!

Last night I went to The Box Bar straight after work. We (Johns, Flattie, DC and me) were there to surprise Leicester Lee. His BF James had brought him to London for the weekend for his birthday. John explained to me that the idea was a surprise and so we would have to be there before Lee and James arrived, and not pitch up an hour later, as is my usual trick. Drinking from 6.30 on an empty stomach is not to be recommended, but hey, it was a special occasion. Lee was really surprised and pleased to see us. I was delighted to have a fresh audience for my "Dinner with Joan Rivers" story. We had a couple at The Box, went over to The Green Carnation and staggered into Profile for "just one more." I left James, Lee and Black John there and went in search of chips. V.bad.

This week should be a busy one. There are always lots of things going on during fashion week. It's Gay London Zoo day tomorrow and then Gay Bingo in the evening, althought there is an event at Holland Park at 8pm which sounded really interesting. On Monday I am going to see Bobby's band, then on Tuesday there are a couple of Fashion Week launches, A Kickers/Id party and a magine launch. Wednesday it's Wheeldon at Sadlers Wells and Friday is Emanuelle's Club Sandwich. Pass me the Berocca!

Back again

2007-09-14T07:13:00.000-07:00

Hannah brought Stan into the office for the first time today. He is her Welsh terrier puppy and has behaved beautifully all day. He is so cute, he is going to be our office dog.

Last weekend was much fun. I cycled into the office on Saturday to nip into the gym and pick up some bits and pieces. On the way home I stopped off on the South Bank to watch some of the boats racing along the Thames. They had a huge sound system set up just in front of the Festival Hall and were pumping out tunes to help the rowers on their way. I had to scoot on home as Flattie had fufilled a lifetime ambition of mine and secured me a ticket to The Last Night of the Proms. It was an incredible evening, I had a great view of all the barmey Promers and the whole orchestra. One of the guest artists was the Russian soprano Anna Nebtrenko. She has the most beautiful voice and you could tell she really loved the whole prom set up. In the second half she started cantering around the stage and draped herself all over Flattie and started playing his cello in a most provocative manner! I don't think I've ever seen him look so mortified, but secretly chuffed!

This week we've been to a couple of parties. Jack Wills had drinks to celebrate the opening of their new store on Floral Street. We've had quite a few guys do their advertising and so went along. They've tried to be a bit of a British Abercrombie/Ralph Lauren. the booze was free flowing and Flo who used to work with us turned up so we went onto Profile Bar and had a good old catch up. The next evening it was Fire Trap. Their store is next door to Jack Wills on Floral Street. We had all the guys in their campaign this season and most of the look book. The invite promised a 20% discount goody bag, and you know what a bunch of cheap-skates we are here, so there was a full turnout. Several glasses of champagne later, Sandi and Ryan were waiting at the checkout with new shirts. Katy, Alice and I were more restrained. Katy and I had a quick one in the Green Carnation (Our new favourite bar) and then home to bed.

Sunday is back to Gay Bingo. Should be a train wreck.

We go East

2006-08-01T03:15:00.000-07:00

Friday was Jamie's birthday. He works for Take 2 now and there office is in London's trendy east End so we went to the Commercial Inn. Everyone looked pretty.

How much money would make you get on a plane?

2006-01-31T06:32:00.000-08:00

More than slightly annoyed today as I had a phone call at 11pm last night telling me that a certain model,

"IS CANCELLING THE JOB TOMORROW. HE IS PHYSICALLY EXHAUSTED. UNDER NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES, IT WOULD NOT BE AN ISSUE, BUT HE HAS BEEN ON AND OFF PLANES FOR A WEEK WITH ILLNESS AND NO SLEEP."

That is his job. That is why he gets paid a fortune.!!All he had to do was fly in from New York today. There would be a car waiting for him at the airport to drive him to his posh hotel. He could sleep overnight and a car would collect him in the morning take him to the studio, where he would sit around all day looking gorgeous and then be driven back to the airport to get his flight back to NY. Frankly, after arranging all this I am exhausted and I tend not to sleep if someone rings me late at night and says they are making me cancel a job that is due to start the following morning, but then that is MY job. Sorry, but I needed to rant.

Tunisian tales

2005-11-26T18:08:00.000-08:00

I’m back at home after the Tunisian Mini Break. White John and I had planned this trip as a battery recharge before the Christmas Season. Originally we were going to find a little spa somewhere in the English countryside but after a little research we discovered that it was actually cheaper to fly south for three hours and stay half board in a four star hotel. We checked online and the reviews of the hotel were favourable. We booked. Everyone said they were very jealous and wished they were coming too. Everyone, apart from Rob Clark, who gasped in horror and said that his Tunisian holiday had been the worst ever, “ Darlings, you may be on the coast of North of North Africa, but it will be freezing cold, and most likely raining. Do not, whatever you do go on the organised trip. I booked a tour because the weather had been so bad I was the youngest person on the bus by about 20 years. We arrived at the great ruins, the largest amphitheatre outside Rome. It has been carved from enormous slabs of marble. As I said it had been raining and no sooner had the elders disembarked a scream was heard. Marjory had walked to the edge of the stairs leading down into the arena. Her Dr Scholls had little grip, she slipped on the wet marble and plummeted down the steep incline. Forty Five minutes later she was being stretchered from the arena and into the back of a waiting ambulance. We all reboarded the bus and headed for the vast salt flats. They are huge; the great, dry lakes stretch as far as the eye can see in every direction. The salt formations are amazing, and soon everyone had piled off the bus again and was examining the crystalline structures at close quarters. Apart from Marjory’s friend Vera. She was sitting in the minibus grumbling that the trip had not been abandoned after the Coliseum incident. We tried to get her to come and see for herself, but Vera was adamant. The rest of the party were fascinated by the salt forms, but were distracted by the bellowing of a distant horn. We looked at the horizon and could just about make out a desert train in the distance. A desert train is basically a huge juggernaut pulling three or four more containers. They rumble across the sand flats carrying supplies to distant outposts. They are huge. The horn sounded again and the lorry rumbled closer, and closer. We watched as the gigantic vehicle approached the place where our minibus was parked. It was at this very moment that Vera underwent a change of heart and decided that she would come and join us on the salt flats. She opened the door of the bus and stepped down right into the path of the desert van. Completely obliterated. The tour guide accompanied Vera’s husband to the morgue and everyone else got back on the coach. The final part of the tour was to supposed to be a camel ride. No one was much in the mood for it, but then one of the old ladies piped up and said they shouldn’t wallow, and that a camel ride would raise everyone spirits.” Rob rolled his eyes, and sighed, “I should have known better. We got to the camel station and I got on first. While the handler was helping the others to climb on, my camel saw a chance for freedom and made a run for it. Camels can reach speeds of upto 40 miles and hour and all I could do was hold on as this thing set off across the Sahara. 2 hours later it had reached and oasis and there I sat for a further four hours until they finally found me. No, Tunisia I do not recommend.”

Sent off...

2005-11-26T12:45:00.000-08:00

So poor old George Best finally got the red card. The BBC had been prepared for weeks and instantly screened an obituary show. I was cooking some food and half-watching, I have no interest in football, especially since the shorts got so long. However seeing the old footage of him in the 70’s reminded me how in playground discussions I used to cite George Best as my favourite player. I realise with retrospect it probably was probably based more on his looks and the fact that he was dating Miss World, Mary Stavin than his football skills. He was really sexy and no amount of nylon shirting could detract from that.

Plymouth

2005-11-19T10:09:00.000-08:00

My father collected me from the station in what is by far the swishiest car our family has owned. It’s what I guess, you would call champagne coloured and has a computer that tells you if your seat belt is undone, the temperature outside and inside, a camera to show you the view when reversing and a soothing lady’s voice that tells you where to turn off for Mutley Plain. I am not sure it’s my favourite family car. I loved being able to ride in the boot of the orange estate car, imagining myself to be some kind of pedigree dog and I always felt super cool in the sporty two door turquoise number with black interior. Incidentally growing up I never had a problem being in the back seat of a two door car but as I have matured (Who snickered?) I have become increasingly claustrophobic, and now spend journeys worrying about being able to escape through the small rear windows in the event the car should be involved in an accident.

My mother greeted me at the front door with the words, “Terry, his hair has grown, he looks like Jesus.” I took this to be a complement as my mother always has some comment to make on my appearance, and I know in her books Jesus isn’t half bad. I think she is still reliving the time I came home with a nose stud and a chin piercing. That time she opened the door and gasped, ushering me quickly into the house with the words, “Did the neighbours see you? What have you done to yourself?” I managed to string them along for an hour before removing the magnetic studs, they were not as amused as I had anticipated.

Since both my parents have retired the diner conversation no longer is peppered with anecdotes about the boat building industry or the demise of Plymouth’s fashion retail industry. Certainly on my first night it seemed to be a catalogue of their friends’ ailments and treatments. As we ingested our Four Cheese Ravioli I listened politely to the discussion of Dennis’ triple bypass operation, Jan’s grandson’s cleft palate operation, and Davy’s lung cancer diagnosis. However, I had to stop Pat when she began to go into details about her hairdresser’s husband’s problems. He had cancer of the penis and because the surgery was so complicated he had to be taken up to Bristol hospital where there was a specialist. There had been complications, and not only had the surgeon been forced to remove half his penis, but he had to remove lymph glands resulting in a loss of feeling from thigh to waist and a build up of fluid. However he felt the aftercare in Bristol was so poor, he had discharged himself and had returned to Plymouth. By now I was starting to gag, I am not used to my mother use the word penis quite so liberally, and the cheese sauce was starting to feel thick and gloopy in my mouth. However, the tale was not finished and Pat began to describe how the two consultants the poor man had been seeing argued over the merits of childhood circumcision. One had said that he had never treated a circumcised man for that form of cancer the other (apparently the wife of the first consultant) said that was “poppycock!” My mother explained that it was fortunate in this case that the man had not been cut a t birth because the clever surgeon had been able to use part of the foresk… “Stop, stop, stop!” I exclaimed, by now I was not only about to vomit at the table but my mothers sudden liberal ease at discussing male genitalia had caused my father and I to flush bright red. “Please, can we not discuss this any further at the dinner table?”
My mother looked shocked, “Well, I never knew you were so sensitive about things.”
I explained “How would you feel it we suddenly started talking about labia at the table?”
“If it was in context, I wouldn’t mind.”
My father coughed quietly. I don’t think he had ever imagined he would have to be confronted by foreskin and labia at his own dining table.

The following day, the weather was beautiful and so we walked along the coastal footpath, watching the ships and yachts sail in and out of Plymouth harbour. It was as calm as a millpond and we all recollected on the times I had spent hurtling around in a Mirror dinghy with little control of direction or speed. We laughed about the time I managed to get caught in a tidal current and got stuck behind the harbour wall for an hour and a half and had to be towed back by our instructor ( in a canoe). Then there was the occasion where we had being doing capsize drill in the harbour and I had managed to right the boat but because of the weight of water in my clothes, my plump teenage build and the awkward life jacket I was unable to climb back aboard and had to swim back to shore towing the dinghy. No one talked about genitals the whole day.

The journey home

2005-11-18T17:49:00.000-08:00

I went to see the physical theatre company DV8 last night. Their shows are always visually stunning, and this latest one, “Just For Show” was amazing. Without a real plot, the show tells a series of short stories. My highlights were; the boy dancing with his hazy reflection in a full length mirror, then stepping through the apparently solid mirror accompanied by a collective audience gasp. The elegant, real-life mannequin, manipulated by suited dancers, while she extended greetings in several languages to the audience. I loved the shadowy gay club, where the lone illuminated dancer was partnered both in dance and sexual acts by shadowy forms, whilst an ever-changing web of colour morphed across the front of the stage. It was once again a performance that had everyone chatting animatedly as they left the theatre, discussing exactly what they had just seen. There is a documentary on television this evening about the former boyband Take That, by coincidence I found myself standing next to Jason Orange during the interval. For once I can report that time has been kind!

I am on the train en route from London to Plymouth. I managed to catch the fast train which takes about three hours. However we have been delayed so far by a swan on the line at Newbury and by a defunct level crossing at Corsham. I love the way that they can stop a train to escort a swan of the tracks but still plough through a woman and child. I don’t really feel cynical as it’s a beautiful day and the journey takes you through such gorgeous countryside, and although I have missed the best of the autumnal colours, it has been so mild that there is still much to admire.

Weird Saturday

2005-11-14T18:25:00.000-08:00

It’s always the same. You have a couple of days off work and you get sick. Fortunately it’s just a head cold, but it has meant I have not been on the best form.

I really should write about Saturday night because it was all rather dramatic, but then again some of the people involved read this and it might start everything off again. The Johns had been talking about having a games night for a couple of weeks. On Saturday evening we all went round to Mac’s for an evening of Trivial Pursuit 20th Anniversary issue. There were 8 of us, Me, Flattie, Bex, The Johns, Big Word Will, Fox and Mac. I may have got a few hackles raised by my request to watch the results of the vote for The X Factor. (Maria was robbed; can you believe that The Conway Sisters are still in the competition?) I also made them sit through the 5 minute DVD of I Just Want to F**king Dance. Then we all got down and started the game. Triv always causes a few heated debates, whether it is about the scoring, the teams or who gets to ask the final question. We were paired up, I was teamed with Bex. The new version has very strange questions, for example; in the Art and Literature category, we were asked,” What would you be buying if the bar code started 649?” The answer was a book. After about an hour of half hearted playing and general whinging from everyone about the standard of questions things started to get tense. Briefly, JW said that he was going home because we weren’t playing properly. JC followed him and brought him back o the room. JW said if we didn’t want to play we should just stop and although the rest of us were prepared to carry on, we decided to stop. I can’t really remember what happened next, I started packing the game away, and JC started getting really aggressive. I didn’t really understand what the problem was, but it seemed like he didn’t like the way I packed the game away. It then all kicked off as I made a comment about the game being made by The Daily Mail. JC went mental, saying that it was my entire fault the evening was a disaster. Bex tried to diffuse the tension, by saying that it wasn’t my entire fault and that JC should apologise. JC looked directly at Bex and said he was sorry. I had moved across the room and pointed at myself, indicating that I think the idea was that the apology be directed at me. JC freaked out, said some mean things and stormed out, with JW in tow. Everyone looked at each other not exactly sure what on earth was going on. Big Word Will thought it might be something to do with them buying the game, Bex thought there might be something going on between the two of them, and Iain thought he had missed something while he was in the kitchen. Flattie and Fox thought that they might have fuelled the flames with some of their remarks. We stayed at Iain’s for a while longer, each choosing a song from his vast CD collection. I chose Mary J Blige, “No More Drama”.

I texted the Johns on Sunday to ask what I had done to make them so cross but it’s Monday and they still haven’t replied. It’s a bit tricky as it’s JW’s birthday this week which means he will be celebrating on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I will not be in town for Thursday, but if we don’t patch things up, should I go on Friday and Saturday? I am also supposed to be going away with JC next week for a bit of a detox in Tunisia! Sharing a room with someone who is not speaking to you? That could be interesting.

Sunday: Cold had kicked in and although it was a beautiful autumn day I didn’t feel like doing much. I spent most of the day in bed. However I managed to make it out to the Tea Rooms on Liverpool Street for Gay Bingo. It was a riot, absolute carnage! I won for the first time, a lovely wand and crown set, called Princes Lucy. We decided not to open it up but to save it for Fox’s friend, Lucy. Johnny Woo did a live action version of Madonna’s new video; he looks great in a leotard. I must admit I do find Johnny really sexy. Eeek! I am top of me. I now have a nice friction burn and a whopper bruise on my arm. Much fun though!

It's karma

2005-11-05T17:44:00.000-08:00

I am feeling well pleased with myself as I have managed to configure my flatmates computer to work with our broadband provider, which means he can download porn or cruise Gaydar on his own PC rather than having to borrow my laptop. I also fixed his iPod which seemed to have given up the will to live. Now he owes me, big time!

In the romance stakes I am once again making a total mess of things. I have been on a couple of dates with a new guy. He is a friend of a friend and had a brief fling with one of my very good friends earlier this year. See, already I feel there is too much baggage, but we do get on well and there has always been this simmering thing between us. Anyway, I took him to see Sufjan Stevens (AMAZING!) on Monday and was supposed to see him on Wednesday, which I bailed on because I had to work really late and then on Friday, which I also bailed on, because, and I am really ashamed to admit it, I had a huge zit on the end of my nose. I don't really get them anymore, but this one came up like I was auditioning to be Coco the Clown. The receptionist at our office smiled as I walked past and said cheerily, "You must have been saying really bad things about someone to get a zit that size on your nose!".
I ran into the loos and examined my face in the mirror, it had indeed doubled in size and intensity in the time it had taken to get from Stockwell to Covent Garden.

At lunch I went out to get some food, as I was waiting to cross the road, the office manager walked up to me, "Hi Mark, have you just been into Farmacia (the local drugstore, which happens to be next to the zebra crossing) to get something for that spot?"

I felt like putting a bag over my head for the rest of the day. Anyway, when I called him to say I wasn't coming out that night, he started to get all paranoid and then I was too embarassed to say that actually I was just being childish and vain and worrying about a stupid spot. I sent him an SMS today to apologise and also to fess up. He hasn't replied. He thinks I am a freak.

However do not feel sorry for me, I do deserve it. I have sort of set myself up on a date on Sunday night. It's a guy from Friendster, who miraculously is not from San Francisco and has a very funny line in emails. We are going for a beer. By tomorrow I should be spot free. Knowing my luck as I type this he will be getting a coldsore!

Hope you are having more luck!

XM

An extra hour...

2005-10-30T10:48:00.000-08:00

Well it sounds like a warzone outside which means it must nearly be November 5th and Guy Fawkes Night. I forgot the clocks went back today which means I am an hour ahead of myself. I have used the extra time very constructively. I cleaned my room ( This actually took half of Saturday too, I am such a slut.)

I have also burned a CD for the hold music at work. I thought I'd do a compilation of cheesey model/looks related songs:

1. James Blunt -Your Beautiful

2. Xtina-Beautiful

3. Scissor Sisters-Filthy Gorgeous

4.Kratwerk-The Model

5.Rupaul-Supermodel

It then gets a bit random:

6. Dreamgirls (from the show) Well the models are a bit like "dream girls"

7. Olivia Newton John-Xanadu. I chose this because sometimes people are a bit cross about waiting on hold and this always seems to make people smile and sing slong.

8. Mary J Blige-No More Drama. I sometimes feel that our models/clients/bookers should listen to this and think about their actions.

9.Julie Andrews-My Favourite Things. I have no idea why I thought this would be funny.

10. Lisa Stansfield - All Woman. Because our girls are!!!

11. Kid Creole-I'm A Wonderful Thing, Baby. Male model anthem methinks!

12. Judy Garland-Over The Rainbow. It's camp, it's about following your dreams.

13. Irene Cara- Fame. "Because fame costs and right here is where you start paying"

Yes, I know. I should get out more

Simon Hobart

2005-10-24T02:30:00.000-07:00

I received an email this morning with the news that Simon Hobart died at the weekend. Simon was an early crush of mine and also the man behind the Indie gay scene in London. His nights have been the source of much fun, snogs, bad dancing, hangovers and even a relationship or two!

He will be greatly missed.

http://www.pinknews.co.uk/news/articles/2005-138.html

Surely they can do better

2005-10-21T18:32:00.000-07:00

Friday night: I am meeting Aussie Sharon Stone, Miss Dior and Neurotic Olly. They have decided to try a new bar. Some bright spark has come up with a classy and amusing name: Free Willy. *sighs* It's in the former Buddha Bar, which looks like a railway carriage and never managed to attract the punters. Still, it will be good to see the boys as it seems to have been ages.

Flattie has a new mobile. It's the Sony Ericksson with camera/memory stick/music player. Someone is jealous.

Should I be worried about Bird Flu? The newspapers are talking about it endlessly. I mean, we humans have pharmacies stocked with Lemsip, Vicks and Olbas Oil. These things are not available to chickens, no wonder they feel poorly.

Weekend...

2005-10-17T09:08:00.000-07:00

On Friday I went to see Texas with Cosgrove and Fox. We missed the first half hour, but what we saw was brilliant. Sharleen was on fiesty form. She sang all our favourites and we all sang along. I didn't realise how popular they were with The Lesbians. There were loads of gurlz in the crowd and Sharleen flirted outrageously. Through Fox's connections we ended up having aftershow drinks. Sharleen Spitieri comes up to my nipple level, very tiny. They all were quite little. We got a taxi down to The Brewers and saw Tan, Mac, Rob Kent, Twin Paul and Flattie's latest conquest, Simon. Simon proceeded to tell me that there was some sexual chemistry going on between Rob Kent and I, and that we should stop larking around and get it on. I think Rob was a bit shocked, especially as he has been going on dates with Iain Mac. Potentially very messy.

Saturday: New cushions to match the gay wallpaper. New landline phone. Flat starting to look less like a squat. Johns come round. We drink lots of wine.

Sunday: Laundry. Sexy Roger is in town for three weeks. We meet for drinks and food. I try not to dribble when I talk to him. He tells me dirty stories. I almost choke on my drink when he declares that my farts smell of lube. (I can assure you reader, they do not.) We are all disturbed by the news that someone was gay bashed and murdered on Clapham Common on Friday night. Horrible.

F**king typical

2005-10-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

Story of my life...This was the guy I arranged a date with at the weekend,
( we snogged at a bar on Sunday) I asked him to send a picture (to make sure I
recognised him) He did. He was Ok, but not amazing, but I thought what the heck, I sent him one of me and....

-----Original Message-----
From: Jon G
Sent: 06 October 2005 14:55
To: Mark E
Subject: Oops...

...I thought that you were someone else from Sunday. I was quite drunk.
I'm very sorry and have enjoyed chatting with you but I met someone
earlier and thought that you were he.

Biggest apologies but thought I'd let you know now rather than wait
until Saturday and then come up with some excuse.

Sorry again and hope that you don't think I'm a complete bastard it was
an honest mistake,

Jon x

Technophobia

2005-10-03T00:34:00.000-07:00

I know there is an eclipse today, it seems to have been playing tricks with technology all weekend. I tried to get the iMac to work on saturday but the connection wasn't working so I assumed that my broadband had been set up. Out came the Wanadoo box and I followed the set up instructions only to get half way through and discover that my account has not actually been activated. Still, the new modem looks pretty.

I lost my mobile phone. I think it fell out of my pocket in the cab on the way home. I took out insurance so it's not a total disaster, but I had hoped to swop my Nokia for a flashy new Sony Ericsson. Unfortunately it doesn't work like that and I have to stick with the Nokia. Looks like tomorrow will be spent typing in numbers!

It's not really news..

2005-09-28T13:48:00.000-07:00

I went to NY for the shows. I had hoped to see Dan and Bradford but ended up looking after Matt who was rushed into hospital with suspected apendicitis. He's better now. I bumped into an old friend Brad, I haven't seen him for about 5 years and it was so nice to catch up.

I walked through Bryant Park and along 14tb Street and smiled alot.

Back to the UK for our shows, most of the British designers who show menswear do so in Milan or Paris and so it's not a particularly exciting time for the guys, however we had all three guys in Julien Macdonald and a healthy smattering of boys in the rest of the shows. I went to the Top Man party, because they are usually excellent fun. It was pretty good. I missed the launch party for GQ Style, but apparently it was a bit dry. The magazine is a bit of a disappointment, clunky design and uninspiring articles, but then I guess it's not aimed at me.

We have new sofa's in the flat!! Finally I can stretch out and my feet don't dangle off the end!

Bradford has been busy!!

2005-09-06T08:09:00.000-07:00

The Blogmeister has a new website:

http://www.queerty.com/

It's worth a visit!

I shall miss this place

2005-08-25T14:12:00.000-07:00

I just read that Big Cup is closing down at the end of August. I used to really enjoy going there and reading the gaypers with a bran muffin and a big latte. I felt like a proper New Yorker. It always felt like a "local" rather than the corporate coffee shops that are springing up everywhere.

V Festival

2005-08-22T10:03:00.000-07:00

Day 1. Weather hot. Top Bands: Goldfrapp, Franz Ferdinand, Scissor Sisters

Day 2. Weather even hotter. Lots of bad singing, most of these sounded like bad karaoke: Maroon 5, Embrace, Athlete, Zutons, Tom Vek. However Morning Runners, Kaiser Chiefs, Magic Numbers and Polyphonic Spree were excellent.

Scouted 2or 3 really good guys and 2 really pretty girls. Did not snog anyone famous. Did not actually snog anyone.

Very excited, but don't have wellies!

2005-08-18T09:28:00.000-07:00

I have just recieved my VIP tickets for this weekends V Festival Last year my friends that went were all hanging out with Jake and Ana from Scissor Sisters. Naturally as I am going along this year we will not catch a glimse of anyone remotely cool and it will rain and I don't have wellies.

I'm not sure it works

2005-08-17T15:59:00.000-07:00

I tried to put together that preppy summer look today. Seersucker shorts, lilac button down oxford over white t shirt polo tie as belt, white havaianas. It has divided the office. The girls like it, the gays hated it. I think it would work if I didn't have Jack Osborne hair, but I am being stubborn and refusing to have it cut like the rest of gay London.

I now have MSN Messenger at work. I suspect this may be a bad thing!

More telly, sorry

2005-08-11T18:00:00.000-07:00

I don't want this to be a telly blog, but the first two episodes of Lost were screened last night and Flattie and I were glued to the sofa's. The first 10 minutes were compelling and the show looks really promising. Really cute cast, two ex Models, Ian Somerhalder (doesn't really count as he was always about 5'9 and too short to be serious model) and Josh Holloway ( taller proper model) but surely the hottest is Matthew Fox. Totally hot! Flattie liked it so much he stayed up and watched episode three on E4. I bet he tells me key stuff before next Wednesday. Grrr.

I have been avoiding this year's Big Brother, but they managed to sandwich an eviction between the two Losts. The annoying Craig was evicted. Nelly as hell, obsessed with the straight lad with the fit body, he still can't bring himself to say the word gay. Davina asked him if he had come to terms with his sexuality, he said he had and that everyone knew what he was, but he just couldn't say the word. Why not? You seem able to sound off about everything else! Grrr x 2. I really shouldn't watch the show.

It's really hot in London this week. The Johns are having a drinks in their Tardis sized garden on Saturday night. The perky/pesky weather woman Carol said on the BBC this morning that it would rain on Saturday. I wonder if they have made contingency plans? I don't want to mention it as Black John is already stressing about the whole thing.

Elephant, the furniture store on Tottenham Court Road is closing down. It has slashed the prices of it's stock and there is a really brilliant sideboard that I have my eye on. I am off home to measure up and hope that no one will get there before me tomorrow!

Who are they? (And a bit about telly!)

2005-08-10T10:16:00.000-07:00

In case you were wondering who Miss Dior and Sharon Stone were.

Did anyone watch that TV programme "Sad To Be Gay"? It was about a 39 year old gay man from the UK who decides to be part of the Love In Action program in order to stop himself from being attracted to men, and to ultimately help him marry a woman, have children and become a family unit. I can't believe that his friends hadn't suggested to him he might go and see a therapist in the UK to discuss his feelings about his adoption, his parents, the abuse he suffered in a childrens home and his subsequent relationships with other gay men. They seemed all for the idea of sending him off to a bunch of brainwashing Christian fundamentalists. Nice mates. Fortunately he was smart enough to realise that Love In Action seems to primarily be a money making scam and had really "cured" anyone of being homosexual, but I was saddened that he had to go all the way to Memphis to find someone to talk through his issues.

The repeatable parts of Brighton

2005-08-09T15:55:00.000-07:00

Note to self: If you are planning to get up early, do your chores and catch a 13.30 train to Brighton for Pride, do not listen to Flattie when he is attempting to convince you that a, "cheeky last one in The Sewers" is a good idea. You will have more than one and it won't be cheeky. You will sleep in and not be anywhere near ready to get on a train at 1.30pm. Or 2.30.

My hangover was slightly alleviated by the joy of a clean bathroom/living room/kitchen! Magda the Cleaner came for the first time on Saturday morning and while I slept she worked her magic with scourers and Jif foam. The place glistened and smelled fresh! She is worth every penny.

Newly inspired, I packed an overnight back and headed off to Victoria to catch the train to Brighton. Everyone else had caught earlier trains so I had an hour alone with my iPod and the British Countryside. rather charming. I arrived and took a cab over to the hotel, The Lansdowne Place. Quick bag drop off in the room and then onto the park to meet the rest of the gang. The weather was good and the park was packed. Brighton Pride seems to lack the attitude of it's London counterpart, people are there to have a good time and not to snip or bitch. Before long and after several text messages I had found Grumpy and Mac, and soon we were sipping lagers outside the Wild Fruit Dance Tent. Miss Dior appeared dressed in sparkly white, which I thought perhaps inappropriate for a Festival in a field, but he carried it off. Mac and Grumpy were not feeling it and so they decided to head back to London, I went off to find Sharon Stone and his posse. They were by the cabaret tent where Dame Edna was belting out the tunes.

As the sun set we left the park and walked back into town for the party in Charles Street. Everyone else had the same idea, and the place was packed. We were by the Candy Bar sound system and were soon shaking it all out. I saw quite a few people from London as the crowds moved up and down the street.

We left at 11pm and head over to a club, unfortunately they wouldn't let Sonia in as it was a Man Only Bar, but we managed to pile into The Revenge Bar, just around the corner which was friendly and not too crowded.

There are tales to tell about what happened next, but they are not really my stories to share. Sharon let slip on Sunday morning in and Miss Dior could not restrain him from giving us TOO MUCH DETAIL!!

Sofa so good

2005-08-05T16:09:00.000-07:00

After 2 years I have finally got round to buying new sofa's for my living room. Flattie and I have put up with the small yellowy-gold ones that came with the apartment but we both hate them so much, something had to be done. They were two seaters and at 6'1 my legs dangle over the end and Flattie complained that he and his gentleman caller could not get comfortable and intimate. I am slightly worried that having purchased two three seater whoppers I might now have more furniture than room. The Johns were with me to ensure I didn't do my usual trick of buying something impractical and glittery, and they assure me the new ones are stylish and comfortable. I can't link to a picture of them just yet, but if you can wait till around September 20th they should be in situ!

I am definitely reaching a new level of maturity, I went sofa shopping instead of going to the AXM summer party. Greg went, this morning he reported that it was a bit flat and the paparazzi kept shooting people he didn't recognise. (Probably Big Brother rejects!) Greg also went to see London's latest West End flop, "The Man in the Iron Mask". He says the critics were right and it is possibly the worst show he has ever seen. To have the leading man encased in a full face mask for much of the show does seem a bit of a production flaw, all his vocals were muffled and distorted. Apparently it closes on the 20th. I am going to try and see it before the end!!

After the sofa debacle I met up with Iain Mac, Mau Mau, Fox, Adrian, Tan and a couple of others. Tan was in an advanced state of drunkenness and dropped his pint which smashed and drenched me. Mmm, nice beery smelling Jeans and Converse combo! Mau Mau is a make up artist for films and normally has some juicy gossip, but she was a bit down and therefore light on stories. We went onto The Sewers, where it was packed with crew and cast members of Channel 5 soap Family Affairs. They were partying as the show has been axed and they all lose their jobs on Friday. It was Karaoke. Last time Fox backed out when they called him to the stage but buoyed by alcohol he said he would definitely sing if I agreed to join him on stage. Hmmm. Fox chose the Texas hit, "Say What You Want". FYI: Texas is not a big crowd pleaser karaoke-wise. We did our best, Fox doing the lead and me sort of double tracking on the bits I knew. Apparently we sounded quite good, and a couple of people danced, but I would have been happier with my tried and tested, "Love Is In the Air"

Tomorrow is Brighton Pride. Hopefully it will be bright and sunny as I am going down with the kids. Seaside shenanigans!!

Mykonos Donut Riders

2005-08-03T08:24:00.000-07:00

Are you ready?

such a civilised evening...

2005-08-02T04:52:00.000-07:00

In January when I booked tickets for Fox, Cosgrove and I to see Will Young at the open air concert at Kenwood I had assumed the weather would be good in August. Fortunately I had booked luxury deckchairs and so although there was a torrential downpour at 6pm we were not subjected to a Glastonbury style mud bath. Kenwood is the house where Julia Roberts is filming her period drama and Hugh Grant comes to visit her on set in the movie Notting Hill. It's posh. The people that go to the concerts there take picnics and hampers and wine and champagne. It should be really civilised. Will Young seems to have a lot of women fans in their mid to late forties. These women like to stand up and wave their arms when he sings. This tends to block the view of the people behind. The people with restricted views adopt various tactics, the people behind us threw food, the people to the right of us shouted and swore, "If you don't sit down I'll f**king put you down". I tried to ask the 46 year old with a vest top, bingo wings and combat trousers to sit down politely. I explained we could not see. She grumbled but eventually sat down. Will played "Light My Fire" and up she got. Fine, "Light My Fire" is fairly up tempo and she can jiggle around all she likes. I looked at her back, the droopy flesh wobbling at the back of her arms and waited for the song to finish. It did, but she stayed put, right in the aisle, blocking the view. everyone else that had been standing sat down, she did not. Cosgrove and Fox could sense my rage building. I got up walked down the aisle and placed my 6'1 frame squarely in front of her 5'4 one.
Bingo Wings: Oi, don't be mean. I can't see.
Me: Precisely, and neither can I if you stand there.
BW: Well why don't you stand up.
Me: I am, and I will make sure I stand in front of you until you do the same as everyone else and sit down.
BW: You are horrible.
Me: Yes, I am.
The crowd has now started telling us to "Shhh" and yelling Sit down.
BW's daughter tells her mum to come and sit down. BW goes back to her chair, I turn and go back to mine the audience applaud and the man sat behind me tells his wife that, " That young man was very clever in getting her to sit without being physical." The woman in front of me turns around and says thank you. I blush. Fox and Cosgrove are doubled over trying to contain their laughter.

The actual gig was a bit dull. Will is not the most scintillating live performer, but he can hold a tune and he was on the other side of a small lake so it is tricky to develop a rapport with the crowd.

As we were leaving BW kicked off again. I was a little in front of the boys, but she was next to them and started saying she was going to f**king have me. The boys tried to placate her but she just ranted some more using a ripe selection of expletives. Fox reprimanded her for her vocabulary and then she started going on about she wasn't going to be told to sit down by, "some 20 year old, who should be showing me some respect." I over heard this last comment and was delighted, she thought I was 20!!!! OK it had got quite dark, but still. The boys had caught up with me and BW was just behind us. She would not let it lie. "I'm 46, you should be giving me respect. Where is your mother? I bet she 's not a Will Young concert. Yeah, I'm 46 and I've still got it." Unfortunately this just made us laugh even more. I was itching to turn round and explain that respect is something that needs to be earned and a 46 year old dressing and behaving like a 14 year old just doesn't qualify in my book, but I decided that it was best just to let her witter on as her failure to get a rise from me seemed to be annoying her more!

Lucky, lucky..

2005-07-22T13:39:00.000-07:00

What a morning!

I was running a bit late as I had a late night with the kids, we had been to the theatre and then out to dinner at The Ivy. Tra la la!

Anyway, this morning I caught the tube at 8.45 which was supposed to go via Charing Cross. It was diverted at Kenning ton and so most of the passengers got off and crossed the platform to wait for the next Charing Cross train. The platform was really busy but everyone was cheery. The train arrived and we all piled on. The doors closed and we started to move , then the train jolted to a halt. The driver told us that we would be held at the station for a while, but not to panic. Then police officers and rail staff rushed onto the platform. The doors were opened and we were asked to evacuate the tube calmly. As we walked towards the exit we were instructed to keep moving and turn left as soon as we left the station. The street outside the station was cordoned off and we were urged to keep moving. The traffic was at a standstill. One guy was trying to walk back towards the tube entrance, he was wearing a rucksack and police manhandled him in the opposite direction, telling him if he didn't move out of the area he would be arrested. I called the office, explained what was going on and walked back towards my flat in Stockwell.

I got to Stockwell at about 9.50 and saw that the tube station was open and so was debating whether or not to try and get the Victoria Line to Oxford Circus or walk back to the flat and pick up my bike. As I walked towards the ticket barriers a guy hurtled past me and vaulted the barrier. People began shouting, "He's got a gun, he's got a gun!" and then there were another five people all running into the station entrance. Now people were shouting, "Get out, get out!" So I ran out of the station and around the corner.

A lady walking towards the tube asked me what was going on, and who were the men with guns. I told her I had no idea, but I didn't think it was worth trying to get the tube. I called the office again to let them know the latest update and walked around the corner to my flat and switched on the news. There was nothing about Stockwell, and so I imagined it must have been a false alarm. I changed into some shorts pumped up the tyres on Flying Sue and headed out planning to cycle to the office. By now the roads in the area were at a standstill, a helicopter was circling over head and a Police Dog Handlers van was trying to get through. I cycled onto Vauxhall.

The whole of Vauxhall roundabout was cordoned off. Traffic was at a standstill. The roads were all taped off. People were standing beside their cars chatting on mobile phones. There were even army officers in camouflage gear. I texted the office and considered just calling it a day. Then a builder who was working on St George's Wharf announced that he would walk anyone that wanted to follow him through the building site and along to the riverside road on the other side of the police blockade. About 100 of us followed him along the path everyone commenting on the lovely views the flats had of the river and how much they would cost! Then someone said that a man had been shot at Stockwell station and I thought, "Hmmm..."

I got back on Flying Sue and cycled along the Embankment trying not to run over the Japanese tourists who were busy photographing Big Ben. Flattie called to check I was OK and he confirmed that someone had been shot at Stockwell!

Sometimes it is good to be a dawdler and not to rush!

Made me stop and think...

2005-07-21T18:02:00.000-07:00

I was at home with my parents this weekend. It was my Godmother’s 70th birtday and I was the surprise guest. I am sure she would have preferred someone like Michael Buble, but I was available and considerably cheaper! Our house in Devon is at the top of a long steep hill. I think the gradient is something like 1 in 3, cars and lorries often misjudge the incline and in icy weather they slide all over the place. However, it was a beautiful summer’s day and I was sitting with my parents enjoying a coffee after lunch on the balcony over looking the garden. My mother noticed the guy in the electric wheelchair coming up the hill, “He looks like he is struggling up there”
We all turned to see the red motorised hill come to a stop about 20 yards for from the top of the hill. For a moment the driver of the chair seemed to lean forward to look at a panel at his feet and then he sat back up and began waving his arms around. The cars shot passed him down the hill. It looked like he was in trouble. My father and I decided to walk across to see if there was anything we could do. As we got nearer I could see the guy was about 25 and looked to be suffering from cerebral palsy. I shouted across the road that we would be with him in a second and he grinned and waved his arms.
Dad and I crossed the road and I knelt down beside the guy and asked him if he needed any help. At his feet was a keyboard with various symbols on the keys. He began to push the keys with his toes and spelled out a message on the tiny screen at the top of the keyboard, “Please can you push me up the hill.”
The chair didn’t have any obvious handles behind so Dad and I took a corner each and started to push the chair to the top of the hill. Those things are pretty heavy, and I think we were glad there were two of us. We reached the top of the slope and the ground flattened out. I went to the front of the chair again and told the guy my name and asked him what his was. He spelled out, “Adam Smithfield”
“So Adam, where do you live? Is there someone we can contact?”
Adam typed away again and gave me the number and a contact name at a residential home about two miles away. He told me to ask Stan to bring the charger or his chair. I called the number and asked to speak to Stan. The receptionist sounded a bit suspicious and so I explained that I was with Adam and that his chair had run out of power. Stan came on the line and said that he would send a car to collect Adam. I said that we would push Adam to the Garden Centre car park which was about 100 yards along the road. I relayed this to Adam and he became quite agitated. I asked him what the matter was and he said that he wanted to make his own way home. I explained that the address he had given us was another two miles away and that if his power completely failed we would be stuck and he wouldn’t be able to communicate or go any further. He seemed adamant and typed, “No, no, no”
“OK, fine. I’ll call Stan and tell him not to send the cab, but I still think it is too far to walk.”
Adam drove his chair in a small circle and then typed out, “OK. I’ll wait for the car.”
I told my Dad to go back home and said that I would sit with Adam and wait for the car. I sat on the floor next to Adam’s chair and asked him how he had ended up on the hill. He told me he liked to drive around by himself and that he had been out for about 4 hours. He thought his car could make the hill climb but he had misjudged it’s power. I told him if he was going to climb inclines like that he needed to get a turbo charged chair. He laughed. We talked some more and it became apparent that here was an incredibly bright and independent person trapped inside a body that refused to function as he wanted it to. The taxi arrived after about 15 minutes and the driver started talking to me about where we were going, as he fitted the ramps I turned to Adam who was typing on his pad. I looked to see what he had written,
“Tell him to open the door wider”
“He says you are going to have to open the door wider, oh and drive out onto the road so the incline isn’t so steep.”
The driver shrugged and pushed the door a bit wider and said if we both push I think it we can mange to get him in. I asked Adam if he was OK with us trying and he said OK and then the words “Thank you”
After a bit of manoeuvring we managed to get Adam into the back of the taxi and I walked around to the open window. Adam swung his arm in my direction and I reached into the taxi and took his hand. He squeezed my hand and smiled.
“Nice to meet you Adam. No more hill climbing unless you’ve got your charger with you!”
He laughed and the taxi pulled away.

I walked back to the house with tears stinging my eyes. I can’t begin to imagine how frustrating it must be to want to communicate and be trapped inside a body that makes it almost impossible. To be treated by others as retarded when really you are brighter than they are, to be so dependent on others when you crave some independence. I felt very humbled.

I adopted three new children on holiday

2005-07-14T19:19:00.000-07:00

On our first day by the pool in Mykonos, I noticed three exhuberant kids larking around on the sun lounger one along from ours. Frazzle had already checked them out and decided the smaller furry one was worth investigating more closely and so was pretending to listen to his mini iPod whilst actually eavesdropping on the conversations next to him. The tall one walked over and caught sight of Frazzle's reading material, "Wow, Pamela Anderson has written a book?! How fabulous!"
He was obviously Australian. There followed some small talk about the location of cashpoints in the town and whether any of us were attending the orientation meeting later that evening. They twisted my arm and so I changed and walked into town to find out from Phil, the dullest tour rep in the world, where the beaches were located on , "The Island Of Mykonos". I guessed they would be at the point where the land met the shore, and as we were on an island, that was all around us. Phil proved me right. He also then told us how to hire a quad bike (There are no hospitals on The Island Of Mykonos, so no mopeds for the Gays) and not to take pictures of the planes at the airbase. "See that island out there? That's the prison! You could be there for months!" We all thought it sounded like a cheap holiday.

Grrr, I have to leave the office as the cleaner wants to do my desk. Here are the kids....

Back in London

2005-07-13T10:48:00.000-07:00

London is getting back to normal after the events of last week. I was getting ready to hit the beach in Mykonos, Greece last Thursday when I started getting random text messages asking if I was OK. We walked into our hotel lobby and they had the BBC World News on. It was about 10am in London and we were starting to see footage of the bus that had exploded. The reporting was vague (a deliberate ploy as it subsequently turned out) with the underground problems being blamed on a power surge. I texted Grumpy at the agency and he said everyone was OK but that it was really strange. Fraser tried to call London but couldn't get through. (The authorities had jammed the London mobile network) There seemed nothing more we could do so we headed to the beach. (It was our last day after all!) As the day went on more news filtered through. It felt bizarre to be sat in the sun while in London everything was chaos and confusion.

We arrived at London Gatwick Airport on Friday afternoon and the usually frenetic atmosphere was very subdued. The only real noise was the pre-recorded security announcements, you know, those supposedly soothing upper middle class male voices telling you not to leave your luggage unattended at any time or the posh lady who tells you to keep your children behind the blue line! We all caught the Gatwick Express into Victoria and were amazed at the number of police everywhere. I'm not sure that the high visibility made me feel any more secure, and the constant sirens howling in the distance were a far cry from the gently lapping waves we had been listening to.

I feel very lucky, no one I know was physically injured. One of my colleagues was on the train that was bombed at Kings Cross, but managed to break free from her carriage and get back to the platform, she was taken to hospital and treated for smoke inhalation, but was back at her desk on Monday. She's a toughie! Another of our friends was on the train behind the one that exploded at Aldgate, he was evacuated from the station and got on a bus. His bus was directly behind the one with the bomb. Two very close shaves, he feels it just wasn't his time. Very philosophical!

The underground is much less crowded in the morning than it normally is, more people on cycles and scooters. The lady next to me on the way home got quite fraught about a suitcase at the end of our carriage. It belonged to a Japanese tourist, who seemed perplexed at her increasingly hysterical demands as to it's ownership. I guess she was just being vigilant.

Next couple of posts will be about holidays, birthdays and possibly even love in the afternoon!

Sorry for the delay!

2005-07-12T11:10:00.000-07:00

I spent a good couple of hours typing away on my cronky old iMac last night filling you all in with recent exploits, and there was almost a month's worth of stories. I pressed post and everything froze, crashed and died. Sigh. I will re-write, but I guess I am going to have to configure Lulu Laptop so that she can talk to the World Wide Web and not just store photos and iTunes.

Opening of an envelope

2005-06-09T17:51:00.000-07:00

We get invites to lots of parties at the agency, I think people hope we will bring some of our glamourous clients to make the place look pretty. The models are suckers for a goody bag of free stuff and so we can usually drag them along. Tonight is a party at the Roof Top Cafe of Harvey Nichols (very Ab Fab, darling!) for the launch of the new designer Coca Cola bottles. A bunch of people have been asked to scribble a doodle in red on a white bottle of coke. I know one of the bottles has been designed by Del Marquis of the Scissor Sisters so maybe they'll be there. Let's hope I do better than the last time we met. I thought I was dancing with a Jake Shears Look-A-Like all night and it was only the morning after Flattie told me it was the real thing! Doh! I can't remember who else is going to be there, Johnny Wilkinson and probably lots of orange people from the soaps. I will report back tomorrow!

Gael Garcia Bernal

2005-06-02T11:53:00.000-07:00

Went to see him in Blood Wedding last night. Very odd production, same director as Festen. Actors are from all over the world so it seems a bit strange, Mother Irish, son Icelandic, father in law Indian, his daughter Dutch, her mother Welsh. Fine if you want an abstract feel, but it still looked semi- Andaluscian. Anyway, Gael is beautiful, but has a large head on a tiny body. He is about the same size as Paul Hickey, but a bit chunkier. I wanted to put him on a keyring and take him home.

Lt Geo.'s party

2005-05-26T18:52:00.000-07:00

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

2005-05-20T12:42:00.000-07:00

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!

2005-05-19T17:58:00.000-07:00

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...

2005-05-18T17:04:00.000-07:00

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

2005-05-16T19:54:00.000-07:00

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

2005-05-13T08:09:00.000-07:00

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

2005-05-11T11:00:00.000-07:00

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

2005-05-05T13:09:00.000-07:00

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!

2005-05-04T17:08:00.000-07:00

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

2005-05-02T18:26:00.000-07:00

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.

Recent events

2005-04-26T13:16:00.000-07:00

Have been really busy with work and so haven't made time to sit down and update the old blogspot.

Briefly the high-lights have been, Rufus Wainwright (again) at The Sheperd's Bush Empire. A great gig, really polished. I get the feeling that Rufus is starting to get a bit tired of touring, he has been on the road for ages promoting the Want albums. His voice was great, the band was really tight, but it felt just a little bit slick and perhaps not quite as spontaneous as past gigs. The boy needs a holiday!

That was followed on Sunday by Gay Bingo, The Tea Building, 56 Shoreditch High St E1. It's hosted by Santanica Pandamonia with John Sizzle on the decks playing the kitschiest classics between games. We didn't win anything, which is a damn shame as the prizes are all gay porn! Santanica was working a Space theme, although how that realtes to him ending up naked and covered in blue paint, I have no idea. It finishes at 9.30 and so we decided to stop off on the way home at Big Jim's Sunday club, Horse Meat Disco. There is always a great mix of people there, fashion students, bears, people who haven't made it home from Saturday night and the DJ's play a random selection of music. I eneded up talking to a tall skinny young thing from Hackney. To save him the long journey home on his bike I offered to let him stay the night. He accepted.

On Monday I went to Dinner at the W'Sens with a couple of agents from New York. It's another Philippe Starck style interior, and the food is delicious but the portions are tiny. I was not as sparkly as the interior and spent much of the evening stifling yawns and trying not to let on I'd rather be at home in bed to catch up on sleep I had missed the night before. (Ahem)

I had arranged to meet Hackney Boy on Wednesday, but he called me as I walked through the door on Tuesday evening to say that he had just become an uncle and was planning to go and see the new baby on Wednesday. I thought this was a polite brush off, but far from it. He actually wanted to meet up that evening. Flattie was eavesdropping and told me I had to summon up my energy reserves and head out for the 5th night in a row. One quick shower later and I was on my way back into town.

Now if truth be told I was a bit drunk on Sunday evening and so I could really remember much about Hackney Boy, and I had shoved him out early on Monday morning as I had to get up for work. I arrived at The Edge and saw him reading a book near the door. First impressions, he was cute, with floppy brown hair and VERY tight jeans. He looked about 23. I grabbed a beer and went over and joined him. The conversation flowed fairly easily, he is 23, a student studying in London for a MA in French Literature. He is from Sheffield was at uni in Cambridge and spent a year living in Paris. He doesn't know London very well. We walked down to Boheme Kitchen for Steak Frites and he fessed up that the new nephew thing was a ploy. He was not going to see it tomorrow, he just wanted to meet up sooner! How sweet!

After dinner we popped into Trash Palace, but it was empty and so we rounded the evening off by walking arm in arm to the river and over the Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo. Very successful!

I stayed in on Wednesday.

On Thursday it was over to the Barbican to see Julius Caesar that my friend Tom had designed. It's directed by Deborah Warner and stars Ralph Fiennes (Not very good) Fiona Shaw (amazing) Simon Russell Beale (vg) and Anton Lesser (also vg). The set was vintage Tom: glass walls, empty spaces, video projections and for the second act he interprets images from the conflict in Afghanistan. Very powerful. I was all hyper afterwards. Probably should have blogged about it when I got home!

We went for usual post work drinks at the Box on Friday, but I wimped out early and went home with a bag of chips! So tired.

On Saturday I cleaned the flat, tidied my room, did laundry, mucked around with Lulu Laptop and cooked a huge pot of Moroccan stew. Went to meet Hackney Boy at the cinema. We went to see the Korean version of Dangerous Liaisons because his current essay is all about the novel. It's a beautiful film, but it's quite long. We missed last orders by the time it finished and so I made my way back to Clapham and met up with the gang who were just heading off to Duckie. Duckie sober is a strange experience. Got home at 2.00 and flattie and I sat up and watched Hedwig and the Angry Inch, till Flattie fell asleep.

Sunday I slept in late and then got up and did constructive chores like de-scaling the kettle and buying a new clothes dryer from the pound shop. So glamorous! We were supposed to be at Martin's Tapas birthday dinner at 5pm on Sunday, but I couldn't find the instructions to my camera and so Michael went on ahead and I slammed doors and drawers. I still can't find the manual.

Dinner was fun, although we waited for over an hour for Paul, Amir and Fox to join us. Very bad form! We had clubbed together and brought Martin a mini iPod, which he was thrilled with. (Yea! Good friends!) We ate loads, some people drank many martinis, some drank wine. Everyone teased Grumpy David about his Thomas Dolby hair. ( He has since shaved his head!) We left the restaurant and wandered along to the Kazbar, met Fox and Cosgove and Cosgrove's new boyfriend Tim. (see previous posting about Duckie Triumph) I spoke to Tim for the first time properly. He seems really nice, but he was very indiscreet about a mutual friend of ours. V flattering for me tho!

Hackney Boy was bored with his essay and so had cycled to Horse Meat. He wanted me to come over and meet him and so suddenly we were all in taxi's on our way to Vauxhall. The gang all like Hackney Boy, but do feel that it will all end in tears! He said they all seemed very friendly. He stayed over and of course I felt like rubbish all day on Monday!

Tonight I have a presentation at GQ, they are talking to me about their new magazine GQ Style.

Ha ha! Have just had internal email: X Tv show are ...are filming at the agency on Friday.

So please have a tidy up, make the place look as professional as possible, put your best TV friendly clothes on (no 'screen clash' patterns) and remember 'blusher is our friend'!

The mischievous Men's Division have all decided to come to work in fancy dress!

Old Maid

2005-04-13T12:22:00.000-07:00

I went on a date last night. It was a guy I met last weekend at a bar. He seemed quite nice, but I wasn't sure if it was a romance date or a work thing as he is a journalist. (Well he writes for a sort UK version of the Enquirer, which I do not count as journalism, in fact I think it's quite revolting, but hey, a date is a date and I haven't had one for a while!) Anyway, we got round to coming out stories and I was explaining how I came out to my parents when I was 30 and I could see by his expression I had said something surprising. He asked me how long ago that was and I realised that perhaps in the dim light of the bar I had appeared slightly younger than I was. I explained it was 6 years ago and he did one of those cartoonish eye popping gulps, "You mean you are 36? Really?"
"Erm, yes. How old did you think I was?"
"Oh, I had you as about 28"
Part of me was triumphant, part of me crestfallen. I had to ask, "How old are you then?"
"Guess!"
Anyone that says "Guess" when asked there age is obviously very young or very proud of the work they've had done. I looked hard and realised there had been no work, that wrinkle free skin had not been peeled or pulled. "You about 23 aren't you?"
"Oh, you guessed!"
"OK, now that we know how old we both are, do you mind if I ask if this was a work date or a romance date?"
"I thought it was a romance date."
"And now you know I am ancient, is it still a romance thing?"
He smiled and said he hoped so. We kissed a bit and I ignored the voices in my head that said, "Nooooo, noooo, nooo!"
He's gone off to dig up the dirt on some footballer's wife for a few days and so I can sit and stew about if I should take this further. I never expected to become a daddy figure, but I guess it was inevitable.

Royal Wedding

2005-04-11T14:25:00.000-07:00

So Camilla was so laid back about the whole thing she turned up at the church wearing her dressing gown! I think she was also making a point about not being officially being called Queen by wearing a crown of twigs and not a proper diamond tiara.

I picked up the wrong coffee on the way into work. When I got to the office I noticed that I was holding a watery concoction and not my usual soya latte. I walked back round to Cafe Nero and the Ukrainian Trainee Barrista laughed and said, "Ah, so you are the spare Soya Latte!" Oh, crikey I have started blogging about what type of coffee I drink. This is bad.

I am going to see the film adaption of JT Leroy's, "The Heart Is Deceitful Above All Things" tonight with Fox and Flattie. JT will be having a Q and A after the screening. I didn't actually believe JT was a real person, a bit like the young author in Armistead Maupin's book The Night Listener, but if he is there in person I stand corrected.

My back still hurts. Mark+drink+stairs is such a bad idea. I am going to try and eliminate at least one of the factors in future.

Flattie has an audition to day for the orchestra at The Royal Opera House. He has been practising hard all week and he has been forced to play bits of Swan Lake and The Nutcracker, much to my delight! I hope he gets it, discount tickets! Huzzah!

Right better get back to trying to find accommodation for two cute French boys arriving tomorrow!

Ouch!

2005-04-10T17:15:00.000-07:00

I am very sore. It's the kind of pain that even two Nurofen Extra doesn't seem to have made a difference to. I slipped on the steps at Duckie last night and landed with a resounding thwack on my back. My ribs hit the corner of one of the stairs and seemed to take most of the impact. I was winded and so staggered outside gasping and wincing. The nice securtiy ladies came over to check I was OK. One even went inside and retrieved my glasses which miraculously had survived in one piece. I don't want to sound like a hypochondriac but I think I might have cracked a rib. When I woke up this morning and yelped as I rolled over I realised that I had done some damage!

Apart from the spectacular finale the evening had been fun. I met the Johns at Balans for dinner. They had been to see Dorian Blue at the Film Festival and had enjoyed it as much a I had the week before. We had a corner table and so could ogle the comings and goings and marvel at the turnover at the place. They must be making a fortune. After dinner we walked over to the Retro Bar, where one of my Friendster's Sean was having his birthday party. Sean is mates with Chris who I had a brief thing with and who I still have a soft spot for and was trying his hand at being the DJ. His mixing skills need to be worked on but he played some great tunes and soon the packed bar upstairs was swaying. Sean was dressed as if he was about to take a cruise on a liner, all blue and white stripey jacket and YSL shorts. He was having a bit of trouble with his Miu Miu belt, (a birthday present from Chris) but helped him fix it in the toilet, as you do. Wendy (my drama teacher when I was 15) runs the pub and rolled her eyes when I arrived, "You two know each other? I might have guessed!" she said, before scooting off to collect glasses and organise the buffet. Fox was already there and shortly after us Cosgrove arrived with Little Tim. They may be an item. I saw someone who I recognised but couldn't figure out where from and then I realised it was Kiki (Of Kiki and Herb fame) but in what I would imagine you would call daywear. I always thought that the front part of Kiki's hair was real, but Justin has very short hair and so it must all be wig. Fox had taken a shine to the assistant DJ, who of course was straight and I liked this slightly swarthy looking guy, who explained was there with his girlfriend. Sigh.

Liscencing Laws being what they are in the UK last orders were called at 10.45 and a plan was hatched for everyone to move onto Shinky Shonky. The Johns are not big fans of the Indie gay scene and so they headed off to Bar Code, where the men are beefy and wouldn't be seen dead wearing a jaunty silk scarf. Little Tim said he was tired and so he and Cosgrove went home, which left Fox and I to party on. We arrived at Shinky Shonky ahead of the throng and just as we got to the bar they announced that there would be no draft beers. Grrr. The lights above the dancefloor had also fused and so it was looking too good. Still the DJ is good and soon I was leaping around to the B52s or something similar. Unfortunately there was a guy standing behind me with a full pint ( i think he had the last one before the pumps failed) and I knocked his elbownd of course emptied the full pint all down his front. Whoops! I apologised profusely and brought him another beer and he was very civil about the whole thing. Phew! Fox of course found this all highly amusing. However the no draft beer and poor lighting situation was starting to wind me up so I dragged Fox out and we caught a cab down to Duckie, where they do have draft beer and the lights work. Fox did good work with a Liverpuddlian, who unfortunately actually lives in Liverpool, and you know of course that I fell over. I did find a business card in my jeans pocket this morning. Someone called Leon gave it to me. I wonder who he is.

Film, Dance, Art! So cultured!

2005-04-04T01:23:00.000-07:00

I seem to have fitted quite a lot in this weekend. I met up with Mike who was over from DC and we saw the dreadful film Sugar at the Lesbian and Gay Film Festival. Based on stories by Bruce Labruce, it was one of those innocent boy falls in love with crack head hustler, who abuses him and then dies leaving the innocent a wiser man films. The strongest character was the innocently young sister. A wise cracking Ritalin dosing 10 year old. After the film we headed to Trash Palace and then went onto Popstarz. I think I must be getting old as the crowd at Popstarz seems incredibly young, still I had a good time.

On Saturday I went to Tate Modern where they have a really eerie sound installation: http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/nauman/ As you walk down the length of the Turbine Hall you hears all these voices and sounds. Well worth a trip and it's free! We also went to see the Joseph Beuys exhibit http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/beuys/ which is pretty disappointing. The Pack is the best thing in the show, but I wouldn't spend £8.00.

In the evening I went to the Opera House to see the Royal Ballet in a Mixed Bill. I brought the ticket ages ago as they were supposed to be premiering a new work by Chris Wheeldon. I really love his work, and a friend, Jean Marc was designing the piece. Unfortunately Chris had been ill with a virus and had not been able to complete the work so they had two other Pas de Deux, an old Wheeldon and a Balanchine. The casting was brilliant, with all the big names, but I just felt the evening was a bit flat, I didn't really like any of the work. I left the theatre and met the Johns for pizza. They had been to see a film at the South Bank, Summer Sun, a German film which sounded much better than Friday's offering. Flattie had been filling in at Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and so we went over to Trash Palace to meet him, Matt the Violinist, Tim the Writer and Iain Mac who was there with Andy. TP was busy and they were doing glam rock make overs again, we resisted! David Corby was there with his cute Aussie mate Ian and he put me down on the guest list for Wig Out at Ghetto. Mike and Jason turned up too and so we stayed at Tp for a few more drinks and then Flattie and I headed over to Wig Out.

It was their birthday party. Badges and Laughing Gas. Hmmm. We jumped around a lot. I thought there was a remote chance that I might get a snog off Cute Aussie Ian, but unfortunately just as I geared up to move in he slumped in a drunken heap at the side of the dancefloor. My timing sucks. Flattie and I scooted home.

On Sunday I was meeting the Breeders for lunch. Lou and Ian are over from DC for a week with the kids and had organised for Simon, Alison, New Baby, Spencer and I to come over for lunch. They are house sitting for some friends in a huge place in Tooting. I misread the address and the taxi pulled up outside a rather grotty looking council house. Realising there must be some mistake I reread the text and noticed that I was supposed to be at Streathbourne Road, not Streatham Road. I was only half an hour late, which for me is pretty good on a Sunday! The food and wine was delicious. It was a lovely relaxed afternoon. We have almost come to a decision about New Baby's name. It could be Tom or Theo or Caspar. However, it could all change. Alison can't decide and Simon doesn't want to be the one who chooses because he feels in 6 months time he will be blamed if the name is wrong!

We all left at 10 and I nipped into the Kazbar on the way home, the boys had said they would be there. Iain Mac was at the bar chatting up Tim the Writer, whilst the Johns, fraser, Fox and Martin looked on! Ed the Tennis Player came over and was being very flirtatious. I don't think he is interested, but he is very witty and has such twinkly eyes, so I really don't mind the flirting!

Some good, some not so good...

2005-03-27T18:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a bit of a roller coaster. I met Jules, Bex and the Johns for lunch. We were supposed to be meeting at Christophers in Covent Garden, but the bar was closed and the restaurant is a bit starchy, so we nipped up the road to Zizzi, the Italian opposite The Royal Opera House. We were all slightly hungover after the previous nights unplanned extravaganza at Iain Mac’s flat. We had been at The Railway for a couple of drinks and then Iain was inviting everyone back to his place which is just around the corner. I think there were about ten of us, so we all put in a fiver and Iain went to the offie and stocked up on wine and vodka. Rather a lot of wine and vodka. Iain has the best cd collection and as soon as the first round of drinks had been poured we were putting on a selection of reliable sing-a-long tunes. My favourites were our rendition of Substitute by Clout, Bex’s vindictive”Your So Vain” and Jules wearing the afro wig and channelling Miss Diana Ross. Black John and Flattie did an inpromptu Strictly Ballroom routine complete with lifts, meanwhile one of Iain’s cushions that was next to the candles in the fireplace caught fire and Jules had to run through the room with the blazing cushion while all around her others twirled and chorused. We left at 3.30am.

The food at Zizzi and a restorative bottle of wine soon had the hangovers in retreat and we headed over to Drury Lane to see The Producers. I think this is one of the best musicals I have ever seen. It’s such a spectacular show with great set pieces and a really funny book. The cast are all brilliant apart from Lee Evans who overacts and hams it up, but even he couldn’t spoil it. I won’t go into details because I would hate to spoil it for anyone, but the “Spring Time For Hitler” number had me in tears! We left the theatre and were all tapping our way through Covent Garden. Black John and I left the others and walked to Liberty’s to get Easter Eggs. John was getting one for Jules and I was going to get an egg for Flattie. Unfortunately Liberty had sold out and all that was left were a few broken eggs and ducks with missing heads. :-( Oh, well I’ll get Flattie a cheap and nasty one from Woolworths.

In the evening it was Fox’s, “Come as a Tube Station” party. I don’t know why, but I had a bad feeling about this one. Flattie was dismissive, “Fox has invited over 175 people and everyone is making a real effort with costumes.” Flattie had hired a wimple form the fancy dress shop and was going as Nunhead, which isn’t actually a tube station but he wanted to wear a wimple and that was that. I had planned to go as Barbican. I was going to have a Barbie and a can of coke on a chain. However when I told Flattie he explained that Iain Mac was already doing that. I then thought I would get a bit creative and go as a NY Subway Station, like Spring Street, but again Flattie was dismissive, “It has to be a London Underground Station” I decided not to mention about Nunhead again. Black John was pinning a square of greaseproof paper to his t shirt ( Russell Square) and had said I should just burn a hole in my t shirt. (Holborn) I should explain that no one wanted too complex a costume as there was talk about going on somewhere after and so your outfit had to be “day to night” as it were. We met Big Word Will in the pub. He had two outfits, a hat and a wooden cross (Hatton Cross) and also a necklace made out of wire coat hangers. ( Hanger Lane) Fox greeted us at the door wearing a Posh Spice mask and fake boobs (Victoria). We through walked into the kitchen and I laughed as I saw two packets of Pringles. (see yesterday’s entry) Fox's brother was wearing a red cape and a crown and had drawn on a frown. (Kings Cross) Our gang seemed to be out in the garden smoking. White John had a tinsel halo and a dildo down his trousers (St John’s Wood) Paul White also had a halo (Angel) Amir had a big curly wig (High Barnet) David Convy had a cross in a bag (New Cross) Bex had a dog collar(Barking) Daniel arrived in a wimple (what is it with whimples?) and six balloons with faces and whimples (Seven Sisters) The was a Golders Green, a Holloway, a Tooting or two,another Kings Cross and a couple of others I can’t remember. However there was not 175 people. I think there were about 20 people max. Poor Fox. Flattie had promised me there would be cute, available men. I thought they were probably at another pub and would show up later. At this point I am in the garden re enacting The Producers when I hear someone say, “Hey, it’s Sue!” I turn round to see that it is indeed Sue and she has brought along the guy I had been chatting up last week. Dan, the one I had made extra special effort with, who had asked for my number and then never returned my SMS messages. Grrrr! Flattie sniggered as he saw my face freeze in a fake fixed grin. I kissed Sue, ignored Dan and ran into the kitchen to make a couple of jugs of cocktails. I thought if I kept people’s drinks topped up the mood might brighten. I couldn’t do much about the music as the sound system was actually a tiny stereo and Daniel and Amir were fighting over which Spice Girls track they wanted next. Sue’s Dan came into the kitchen and I offered him a drink. “I’m sorry I didn’t text back but my mobile phone doesn’t have SMS facility”
“Does it have call facility?”
“I’m sorry, I should have called but...”
“You didn’t” I move around him wielding my cocktail jugs.

That was about it. People commented how hostly I was being as I poured and chatted and refilled all the while wishing I had stayed in the flat with a Thai Green Curry and a DVD. Some people decided to go to Queer Nation, but as the clocks went forward it was already 2am and I couldn’t face the club for the third week in a row. I walked back into the kitchen and saw Dan and Daniel snogging. Grrrrr. I walked upstairs and chatted a bit with Fox who was feeling a bit low as the party hadn’t really been a huge hit. He got a bit teary and I gave him a hug. It really was time to leave.

It’s now Sunday afternoon and there is no sign of Flattie. I suspect he went to Queer Nation and then onto the after hours club Beyond. I guess he will surface around 6

FYI...

2005-03-25T12:17:00.000-08:00

Hello there!

I planned to tell you all about the cute boys in The Box last night and how I left early and ended up watching “Broadway-The History of the American Musical Part Four 1980-2005” and feeling disappointed that I had missed Part Three which was all about West Side Story, Follies, A Chorus Line and Dreamgirls. Oh well. The commentators have gone crazy since yesterday and I have two questions from the floor today and so I will address those in manner of genial host.

Toddy lives on the other side of the world. I know because I looked up where Portland is in the World Atlas we keep at the agency to let models who come from Eastern Europe use to point out where their jumble of vowels and constanant villages are. I was looking for Portland near Boston, I thought it was some quaint seaside town on the East Coast. Imagine my surprise...Anyway the location of Portland means that Toddy and i are in completely different time zones and even though he left a message for me at 11am his time I didn’t receive it till this morning which is probably about the time the party is winding up and no one will be wanting to try a new vodka based cocktail. Hopefully if you did attempt to make them you didn’t use butter or shrimp, Toddy. I don’t know what the exact ingredients were, after all I was a guest at this illustrious event and unusually for me I did not take home a cater waiter. The lemony mixture they were adding to the champagne was a cloudy yellow colour and so i think it was a mixture of freshly squeezed lemon juice a little sugar syrup and a glugg of citron vodka. For those of you planning a party on a budget I think you could replace the champagne with Cava and no one would really notice.

I am not a big Sci Fi fan, but there are people out there who find that kind of thing fascinating and spend weekends at conference centres dressing up as overweight Captain Kirks and Lt Uhuru’s. Hell, I know people who dress up as Cher! I don’t judge. One of my readers (Oh, I can’t tell you how good it feels to write that!) has been asking about Dr Who. The has been a great deal of media interest in the new series. This is partly because anyone over the age of 25 spent their formative years watching the show from behind a sofa or under a cushion. This was scary stuff and we were too stupid to realise all you had to do to escape the Daleks was to run up a flight of stairs. Apparently in the new series the Darleks can hover and don’t have to trundle along like demented shopping trolleys. Remember these were the years before CGI and movies like Alien. We were a generation who had not been brought up on incredible special effects and so a quarry in Cornwall served nicely as the planet Zarg or whatever. The other reason the press are excited is that in this series The Doctor’s assistant is played by Billie Piper. Billie was a bit like a British version of Britney. She had her first hit age 16, by 18 she had gone from cute teen to sexy adolescent and shocked the nation by marrying multi millionaire media mogul (how’s that for alliteration, I should work for the tabloids) Chris Evans. Chris is not very attractive and is old enough to be her father. I wonder what she saw in him? Anyway they have recently split up and now she is relaunching herself as an actress. If previous assistants are anything to go by all she will have to do is keep running in the wrong direction, getting caught alot and screaming. Tough gig. Anyway if you go to www.bbc.co.uk and type Dr Who into the search engine on the site it will guide you to all kinds of stuff about the Dr. Incidentally, in his latest incarnation the Time Lord is played by Christopher Ecclestone who is actually quite hot in sticky out ears kind of way.

The other things the British Press are interested in this week are the state of the food being served to children as school dinners. Annoying Mockney chef Jamie Oliver has just finished a series where he tried to get the dinner ladies in one London borough to change the menu from chicken nuggets and chips to healthy freshly cooked food. Jamie Oliver really does wind me up, with his stupid “pukka” catch phrases, his whiney wife and his million pound contract with supermarket Sainsbury’s for their TV ads.While I appreciate he is trying really hard to do some good, please remember that the dinner ladies were working overtime for no money, while Mr Oliver can afford to buy Whiney Jules a gorgeous retro sports car as a surprise birthday present and jet off to Germany for a “gruelling” book tour.

The other thing the papers have been having a field day with is the British version of America’s Next Top Model. Make Me a Supermodel has been slated by every newspaper. It was offered to our agency but we turned it down as the producers explained they wanted to make a really confrontational show. They ended up going with Select Agency, and the show has been renamed Give Me An Eating Disorder. It is so nasty and vindictive. The three judges are dreadful. The Tyra Banks role has been handed over to Rachel Hunter. An ex-shag of Rod Stewart and no stranger to the cheeseburger herself, she is supposed to be the friendly mentor. Next up is the director of the Men’s Division of Select ( I guess the womens bookers were too ashamed to take part?) who comes across as barely literate and fashion photographer Perou, who is just a total tosser. I can’t help myself, I have to watch the poor girls being forced to strip naked, engage in lesbian role play and have their clothes thrown in the incinerator. Car crash TV!

Right time to go out and make the most of this day off!

I have a slight headache...

2005-03-24T18:01:00.000-08:00

I thought today would be quiet. People closing down for the Easter holiday but it seems to have gone a bit mental and so I have not had chance to write a lengthy account of H&M's party. Here is a mini version. I had some work to finish off and so I arrived a little later than the rest of the crew. My name was not on the list. Humiliation, especially as the girl on the door was standing next to the ranks of Paps. Needless to say no one took a picture and I did my hair special! I think the guest list girl realised I had spent a bit of time on my hair because she smiled and let me in. (It was the opening of a shop after all!) It was 25% off everything, which at H&M means that they are practically paying you to take the stuff away. The champagne and lemon vodka cocktails slipped down a treat, the champagne and vanilla ones were not as pleasant, but there was plenty of them. I found our lot, clutching armfuls of stock in a buying frenzy. David and Greg were doing the jumpers, Clare was trying to convince herself that her bum would look nice in a pair of white jeans and Sandi was adding to her collection of handbags. (I believe we are in triple figures!) The New Faces boys were looking gorgeous and knocking back the cocktails like fruit juice. This may have explained why they ended up wearing Superman pants over their trousers and cowboy hats, playing hide and seek.

I bumped in to Luke from Attitude, whose hair is quite Farah Fawcett. I also saw Alan Gelati and Andrew Borthwick, the bookers from Storm, Nicola from Dazed, Jonathan the promoter who is doing Tart at Substation tonight, Richard Arnold from GMTV ( I think you should be buying a larger size sir!) Jimmy Carr (the comedian) and a bunch of other fashion types. Erin O'Connor arrived with her booker Tori late and so we all piled out and nipped down the road for more drinks and a gossip at The Grapes. Fraser (Junior booker on the women's division) was sat next to Erin doing an impression of a goldfish. I think he was a little star struck. Erin teased me about how disappointed her sister was when she discovered I batted for the other team, and no, before you evils say anything Erin's sister is not deaf and blind!

I got home just before midnight and may have eaten some chips. Eeek! Lovely flatmate had taped Desperate Housewives and Make Me An Anorexic Depressive, sorry Supermodel.

The goody bag was actually a chocolate Easter Egg containing a diamante cross. I brought some socks anyway!

Happy Easter.

According to the stupid rules...

2005-03-23T18:44:00.000-08:00

if the guy I gave my number to on Sunday night was interested he would have called or texted me by now. All that crap about new hope in the World of Gay, well it must have been two glasses of red doing the talking. Still I am not the only one suffering, and if I feel down I can always run over to http://hot-toddy.blogspot.com which I would have written as a cool hyperlink but I can't figure out how to do it! He seems to be having as much trouble as me and at least mine don't bother getting in touch rather than leaving grouchy comments for all to read!

Anyway, there is an exclusive fashion party tonight and I am on the guest list!! Tra la la! It was mentioned as the event of the week on Vogue.com! OK, OK, I know it's just a shop opening, but they can be glamourous. Alright, so it's the opening of the new H&M Flagship store in London, but just think of the goody bag! Pair of socks, anyone?

Good Stuff somtimes happens

2005-03-21T12:39:00.000-08:00

So I went to the pub tonight because I had to make sure Iain was not too cross that I had told Jamie he makes Iain miserable. Flattie had gone off to see nieces or nephews (or so I thought) and I was almost ready to settle down with QVC. Iain had told me he was having drinks with Sue and Andy. As I have renounced my membership to World Of Gay I was just going along to have a glass of wine and bit of conversation. I did not expect Sue to have such a cute boyfriend. I did not expect to discover that said boyfriend was actually just a gay mate. I did not expect to leave the pub once again an optimistic member of World Of Gay, with a sense that something good might just happen.

He's here!

2005-03-18T10:30:00.000-08:00

Very briefly: Al and Simon have a baby boy. I'm going to meet him tonight. It was all a bit traumatic. Al is tiny, (4'11) and he was too big! He got stuck and so they had to do an emergency caesarian. When he finally emerged he looked like a Cone Head, but Al assures me he has returned to humanoid form! Al has to stay in hospital for a couple of days so I am nipping in tonight after work with emergency supplies, Vogue, Heat and Hello! I might sneak in a copy of Mother and Baby Magazine too.

Last night I celebrated at Rollerdisco at Bagleys Warehouse. Three rooms, old school quad skates and great music. I went with five people from work as a reccy for a big night out. It surpassed all expectations and everyone, even Grumpy, was whizzing around with a smile on his face. A team outing is being planned!

Baby Love....

2005-03-16T20:28:00.000-08:00

was cracking open a bottle of red when Flattie walked into the kitchen,
F: Hard day at work?
M: Al’s in labour!
F: Hmmm, I always had her down for a Daily Mail reading Tory.
M: No, no! It’s baby alert time.
So now we wait.....

Al is my best girlfriend. We have been incredibly close since we met in the Constitutional and Admin lecture during our first year of our Law Degree. I could write an epic about our adventures since then but if I tell you both her mother and her husband (Simon) came over on the day of her wedding and said that she should be marrying me, it should give you some idea of our relationship. When I found out she was pregnant, I felt very strange. I was delighted for them but this was tempered with a sadness and perhaps even a bit of jealousy. It’s just a reminder that the chances of me becoming a parent are neglible, and as an only child, I’m not even a real uncle to anyone. Enough of the self pity! I am a Nearly Uncle to my cousins kids and my other uni friends Lou and Ian have three boys I adore and have been lucky enough to be part of their growing up. Now I shall be a Nearly uncle again, and this time I’ve even been privvy to the naming debate. We’ll see how much imput I’ve had later. Anyway, when I last spoke to her the contractions felt like waves of constipation, uncomfortable, but not unbearable. I have never experienced waves of constipation, without going into too much detail, actually I am not going into any detail about my bowel movements here, it is not that kind of blog.

Good luck Al and Simon.

So much to tell., so little time..

2005-03-09T05:16:00.000-08:00

I have at least four good blog stories but I just can't seem to find the time to sit down and write them. I keep hearing ringing in my ears and then when that stops I hear voices in my head. Don't worry too much, it's just that I am at work and it's the telephones. However because we are busy, I can't write properly about Lulu, or Iain Mac's dating disaster or Fox's evil text trickery or the vermin who got inside last night or the two fights I had at work yesterday or the junk fountain.

Tonight I have the dentist and then dinner (should be funny to watch me trying to eat spaghetti with a numb mouth!) with the soon to be parents. Tomorrow is JC's birthday dinner! Perhaps I can update this at the weekend? Sorry. Must try harder!

And I got two comments!! People actually stopped by and read this. Hurrah!

A slack update

2005-03-04T04:46:00.000-08:00

Rufus was a strange concert. It was at a very small venue and was a bit of a showcase for the UK release of Want Two. I was lucky enough to get sent a copy last year and so I know the album pretty well but there were lots of people there expecting him to play more from his back catalogue. He only had half his band with him too, no backing singers:-( However he sounded great and interspersed the gig with witty stories, I think everyone went home happy.

Last night I went to see the revival of Matthew Bourne's Highland Fling. I love Matthew's work: http://www.matthewbourne.org/ and Highland Fling was his first full length ballet. His attention to detail is great, each dancer has a very specific character. The first act was set in a Glasgow club and then a flat in a housing project and was really funny and well observed but the second act fell a bit flat. The hero has fallen from the window and lands in a forest of Sylphs. They seduce him and then he tries to leave with the lady sylph who he saw in act one. He ends up cutting off her wings and she dies and he is attacked by the other sylphs and then becomes one himself. Last night's lead was Will Kemp, http://www.willkemp.org/news who is gorgeous. I've tried to persuade him to be a "Special Booking" for us on many occasions but he did the Gap ads and that is it. He wants to be taken seriously as an actor. I think he is going to find it hard because he has a bit of a stammer. Oh well.

After the show I met a couple of friends in the pub. One of my Flatmate's best friends was having a 30 year old crisis. Not satisfied with his job, partner. You know the thing. He has a lovely boyfriend, really nice job, cute dog and an amazing house, but it's still not enough. We had a few drinks and ended up in a bar we lovingly refer to as The Sewers. It has a late liscence and that is the only reason anyone goes there. I was starting to feel the effects of the wine I had been drinking and perhaps didn't quite show the restraint expected of me when I was introduced to the guy from the gym that IO have a bit of a crush on. I think telling him I had a crush on him was a mistake, especially as he was trying to get off with my friend John. Whoops. I left a bunch of them there and my flatmate texted me this morning to let me know he had spent the night with the brother of a Big Brother Contestant. Fortunately the paparazzi were not staking out the flat when I left this morning, but they may have heard about it by the time I get home tonight. They love a D list celeb relation story!

I have just brought a laptop. A girl at work was selling it to fund a trip to Thailand. It is a Sony something and is so cute. I have a clunky IMac at home but this one can go anywhere. Perhaps this will be the incentive to start my novel/play or to make more use of my camera. We'll see. I have decided to call it Lulu. I figure I will sound less dorky if I tell people I am spending the night in with Lulu, rather than I am playing with my lap top.

Another Duckie Triumph

2005-02-27T19:32:00.000-08:00

I don’t know what it is about Duckie www.duckie.co.uk Perhaps they pump some kind of laughing gas through the air conditioning, but that can’t be the case because the venue is so dilapidated they certainly don’t have anything as sophisticated as air-con. Maybe it just the combination of beer, bizarre cabaret, eclectic music and uncontrolled dancing that makes the nights there such fun.

Last night I went with Flattie, Fox and Cosgrove. We met for a warm up drink at the Railway. Fox and Cosgrove had been shopping that afternoon and had interspersed the spending of wages on appareil with the spending of wages on booze. They were in high spirits and as soon as Fox walked into the pub he demanded to know where the fairly burly guy sitting on the table next to ours had got his shirt, because he had brought the same one that day. He then demanded to know how much the guy had paid for it and I could see a fight brewing. However the moment passed and the burly crew stayed put and we complimented Fox on his current choice of shirt.( Green with a pirate on the front and “Pirates Arrrrr Cool”) It would seem that the pair of them had cleared out the stock at Urban Outfitters and there had been a bit of a squabble over a military coat at Reiss. Fox has it and Cosgrove is jealous.

We left the pub at 10.15 and got a cab to Duckie as it was freezing and we wanted to beat the queue.It was already busy when we got there, and I spotted the burly crew from the table next to us. Flattie had been correct, he had said that they were just a bunch of burly gays, as opposed to burly guys. Fox of course decided he would make the one who had his shirt the target for the night. Beered up we walked over to where they were standing and I bumped into Tom, who was there with a group of his friends including the new boyfriend, who is just as Tom described him, small and blond. I asked Tom what Small and Blond was called:
T: His name is Mark
M: Oh that’s easy for me to remember
T: No, wait you are called Mark, he’s called....er...Anthony. No, no I keep calling him Anthony but thats not his name, it’s er....Alan, yes Alan. God, how m I going to remember his name?
M: I shall think of him as a small and useful thing like an Allen key and then I will remember. Who else are you here with?
T: (indicates a couple of people, one of whom is talking to Fox and has slept with someone I know very well.)
M: I know him he’s slept with three of my friends.
T: (Laughs and turns to boy who I think is called Tim) Mark says you’ve (I grab Tom’s arm and pinch very hard. It doesn’t work) slept with three of his friends.
(Tim scowls and stomps off)
T: Oh, that didn’t go down very well.
(Fox walks over)
F: I think I’ve just met my new boyfriend. It’s that guy Tim.
M: Some how Fox I don’t think it’s going to work out. Sorry.

Then it was time for the show. It was Nathan, the guy does a Smiths Tribute Show with a ventriloquist ‘s dummy. This time he was presenting “A History Of Homosexuality from Wilde to Will with slideshow and pyrotechnics” Nathan and I have flirted a bit in the past. He used to have very long hair and he has very nice arms. I can’t really remember much of his spiel but it culminated with him saying how he had been seduced by Travis’ Calvin Klein ad and in protest he was going to strip off and burn his own Calvins. He warned us that he had a tiny penis and hoped we wouldn’t be too disappointed. The place was freezing and to strip naked was a brave thing to do, but Cosgrove and Fox were disappointed in spite of the warning, they like their strippers to be better endowed. He whipped off his Calvins and squirted lighter fuel on them and torched them. We all cheered and clapped and then got on with some proper dancing.

Flattie’s mate Guestie arrived and we drank more beers and larked around. A tall guy in a green t shirt caught my eye and we did the smiling across the room thing. I think our dancing to Grace Jones La Vie En Rose might have put him off, because when we finished I saw him having an apparently intimate conversation with a beardy man. Then they played Filthy Gorgeous and I forgot all about him. Next thing I know he’s dancing next to me and so we start chatting. He is called Stephen and is from Northern Ireland. (Not my favourite accent in the world). He asks what I do and when I tell him, he says one of his friends used to be a model. I just know what’s coming. His friend is going to be one model who despises me. I don’t what it was but we seemed to really rub each other the wrong way. I say “It’s not P is it?”
S: Yes. Wow. You know him?
M: How good a friend is he?
S: We’re pretty good mates. I know him and David (Fox’s ex, let’s not talk about it)
At this point I realise the karma police have been lurking around and as revenge for my earlier comments about Tim I am now having to pay. We exchanged numbers and I said if he wanted to go for a drink after he’d spoken to P he could give me a call.

The guy that lipsynchs to Kate Bush got up on stage and gave us his best Running Up That Hill. One non regular tried to join in and had to be dragged off. He shares the stage with no one when he is channelling Kate.

Then it was time for The Readers Wives Favourite Song Of All Time. (It changes every week and I can’t remember which one it was.) then off home.

When I woke up this morning I had a text from Cosgrove. “I seem to be in a strange mans bed. How did that happen?”
I sent one back asking who he ended up with. The reply made me laugh out loud:
“Well I think you might know him-I’ll give you a clue, he’s now slept with 4 people you know.”

This weeks dose of culture

2005-02-26T17:34:00.000-08:00

I’ve just got back from seeing First Drafts at the Opera House. My friend Vanessa is a ballerina with the Royal Ballet and she had choreographed a piece. First Drafts is an opportunity for members of the Royal Ballet to try out new works. The results can be very mixed. Vaness’s piece was last on the bill. It was called Sea Castles and was to a piece of music by Edward Elgar. I don’t know the title of the music but it sounded like a counter-tenor, I’ll ask her later. The set consisted of three white flats painted with huge pink bouquets. She had four male dancers wearing only black shorts. The movement seemed to reference Nijinsky at times, the two dimensional vase painting poses he used, but Vanessa is a genius at getting the dancers to push themselves and find new shapes, lifts and holds. It was at times very camp, with a repeated motif of the boys holding there hand to their foreheads in manner of a Victorian swoon, but there were also moments of machismo, at one point of of the boys throws himself across the stage into the arms of the other three boys and the audience let out a collective gasp. Until Vanessa’s piece the audience had been politely appreciative, but there whooped and cheered as the boys took their curtain call. I was very proud. She gets dinner and drinks next week!

Grrrr...

2005-02-23T13:10:00.000-08:00

The UK Media has reached an all time low. Even the BBC plummeted in my estimations today. It's as if the editors of Heat have taken over. A little bit of snow for two consecutive days should not really be described ARTIC CONDITIONS. The Queen is not snubbing her son's wedding because she isn't going to the registry office. She's going to the blessing and throwing a great big reception at her place for the happy couple, what more do you expect? Should David Beckham's choice of name for his child merit a whole newspaper front page? Also does the fact that Ken Livingstone referred to a journalist as behaving like a Nazi merit 5 pages of editorial and demands of apologies from the Jewish community? If he should apologise to anyone, shouldn't it be the Germans? Please can we have some real news reporting again soon?

Let it snow!

2005-02-22T13:55:00.000-08:00

I woke up this morning and looked out at a London that had been sprinkled with snow. It's only a light dusting, but of course it means that London grinds to a halt. Roads are closed, Tubes can't run and the modeling fraternity are unable to leave their homes. Luckily the shows are on in Milan and so we are pretty quiet here anyway, but the snow seems to have silenced the phones today. I've been catching up with emails and filing! The phones do ring at annoying intervals, so you can't really get involved in writing a proper blog entry.

I've just nipped out with Gemma and Fraser to grab some lunch and help choose a shirt for Gemma's boyfriend's birthday. We did a quick tour of the men's stores in Covent Garden, she wants a floral pattern but not too flowery. Our shirt of choice was in Cecil Gee, it scored points for price and pattern and so that's the one he will be getting!

On the way back we accidentally stopped into The Cornish Pasty Shop for lunch. It felt good to be walking along in the snow eating hot pasties. I am from Plymouth, which is right next to Cornwall, and so was raised on quality pasties, and hell, it was a once in a blue moon treat!

Flattie came home yesterday evening. The wedding was a big success, the subzero temperatures didn't dampen anyone's spirits and there were no huge family dramas. His sister looked amazing, he played well and no one ended up in casualty. VG!

Weekend

2005-02-21T13:15:00.000-08:00

Flattie's sister got married this weekend up North, which means I had the flat to myself. This means I mooched around in my underwear, listened to crap music and watched knock off DVD's that Clare from work had lent me. I watched Door In The Floor with Jeff Bridges and Kim Basinger, a dull film about a marriage in crisis and Dogville, the Lars Von Trier movie with Nicole Kidman. Typical of a Von Trier movie it's harrowing stuff. I wasn't convinced by Nicole's performance, I think she is too weak/vulnerable to make the ending believable, but still worth a look.

On Saturday I met Fox, Adrian, Dan and Emily. We went to Trash palace where they were doing Glam Rock Makeovers. Adrian went first and had a pink and blue Ziggy Stardust lightening flash across his face. Impressed with the results I opted for a black and glittery star over my left eye. Of course we forgot we had them done and I wondered why I was getting funny looks as we walked from TP to Wig Out.

At Wig Out things slipped in the usual drunken chaos. I saw Paul Twin, who had just got back from visiting his brother Steven Twin in Australia. It is a bit strange seeing one without the other. They were a bit of a Wig Out fixture. Fox got off with some German. He was having a bit of a German week as he had been flirting with another German on Thursday.

Flattie sent texts from his sister's wedding detailing the progress of events. It doesn't sound too much of a train wreck! I will get the full story this evening.

Cards, nil. Flowers, nil.

2005-02-15T15:38:00.000-08:00

Well the postman did bring me something yesterday! It wasn't the secretly hoped for Valentines card, merely a statement of my Nectar (store card) reward points. I have 2053. I don't know what that entitles me too as I was so disappointed I threw everything into the bin.

I ate my chocolate desert sitting on the sofa watching a TV program about a girl from Russia who had X ray vision and could see what was wrong with you. I switched off before I found out if she was a fake or really was psychic. I am guessing they proved she wasn't, these shows always do. I decided to go to bed and read a book. I started Shampoo Planet by Douglas Copeland and quickly fell asleep! Whoops.

Tonight I am going to see Kiki and Herb's anti Valentine show, Losers in Love with a bunch of other singletons. I can foresee bile and venom in abundance!

2005-02-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

At dinner last night we were talking about my job and how it affects your relationships. There is definitely something of a "booker syndrome", the majority of agents I work with are single. I think this is partly due to being surrounded by unrealistic specimens. One tends to forget the guys we see on a daily basis make up something like 0.01% of the population, and no matter how many times you tell yourself this, it does give you unreal standards, especially as part of our job is scouting new talent, so we are evaluating everyone we meet. The other thing you learn when you do this is that beautiful people go through life being treated in a completely different way to ordinary mortals. As a rule people are much nicer to them and they get away with much more, as a result they tend to expect more to be done for them. They also have to deal with getting older and losing the power they once had. My colleague was a model in the late eighties and early nineties. He is still a very handsome man. Yesterday someone brought in an old issue of Blitz magazine. He was the cover boy. Everyone thronged round and all said variations of the same thing, "Didn't you used to be handsome!" Imagine how that must hurt, you made your living from looking good and that is something that has faded away forever. Very sad.

Another reason why we are all single is that we become control freaks. We spend our days organising the schedules of all the models. Sorting out their daily schedule, planning everything from flights to hair appointments, negotiating fees and arranging their portfolios. We have to be decisive. In a partner we tend to look for someone who will take over responsibility, but as much as we say we want to relinquish control we find it very difficult to release the reins.

That isn't meant to sound like a whinge. I love my job. Former model and I have been comparing notes on designers we have shagged. This fashion week we both have 1 each on the schedule! Sluts.

Big Deal

2005-02-08T17:42:00.000-08:00

So Ellen MacArthur made it home and broke her record. I just think all her mates said they had planned to share a villa in Benidorm this year and didn't want to join her on her poxy cruise.

Sshh. He's asleep..

2005-02-06T13:52:00.000-08:00

I am writing this because I do not want to disturb Flattie, who despite many protestations about not going to Beyond this week arrived home at 10.30am this morning. I deduce that The Johns dragged him kicking and screaming from Action onto Beyond. However I could be slandering him and perhaps he met someone nice and went back to theirs for coffee and biscuits. Anyway, I don't want to crash around in my room too much as the boy will need his sleep, but having read a couple of chapters of The Da Vinci Code (I didn't realise it was such a trashy thriller, I thought it was one of those historical self helpy books.) and the review section of The Sunday Observer I am starting to get fidgetty.

Can you believe Leo Di Caprio has been given a life time acheivement award? Oh, and how about The History Boys winning Best New Play? Apparently the homophobic, paedophiliac plotlines are really rather sweet. Grrrrrrr!

Fox sent texts last night from Manchester saying it was rubbish. He didn't manage to pull, even though he had a lovley new shirt from Selfridges. Fox, not pull?!! Blimey there must have been something seriously off-kilter. I always did rather well in Manchester, I recall one particularly charming blond, rugby-playing doctor and a night at Mal Maison. Sighs...

that was no head cold

2005-02-05T11:02:00.000-08:00

So the head cold actually turned out to be flu. I had forgotten how horrible real flu is. Fever, sweating, aching everywhere, unable to breathe, unable to sleep, horrible. I called the office at 8.30 on Friday morning and told them I wouldn’t be in. The next time I looked at the bedside clock it was 2.30pm. I struggled into the living room with the duvet and collapsed on the sofa with a mug of Lemsip Blackcurrant Flu Formula. In the time since I left college daytime TV has changed beyond recognition. Now it’s packed with chat shows, garden makeovers, buy a place in the sun shows, sell your old junk at bootsales/auction houses shows and even buy stuff from boot sales in the sun and sell it at boot sales here in the UK. ( I am serious!) It’s very soothing and I am sure helped my recovery. I even got to see an episode of my ex’s old favourite, “Ready, Steady, Cook”.

I was back in bed by 10 and had a much better night . I was awoken by my mobile ringing.(It plays a dreadful version of Scissor Sisters, “Filthy Gorgeous”) It was Black John to say the model he booked for a shoot had not yet arrived, and he knew I was at home sick but no one else was answering their phone. Grrr! I called the model and of course all I got was their answering machine so i left a shitty message. Fortunately BJ had booked another guy, so he would just have to double up on the shots. Anyway I was up and out of bed and feeling so much better than I had for the past two days, so I made some toast and finished off the book I had been reading.

Flattie teaches on a Saturday and so I had the place to myself for the morning. Laundry on, a bit of low key tidying. (If Flattie reads this he will laugh because the tidying was so low key he will not have noticed it! It was clearing out of a couple drawers,actually!) I needed to buy milk, cereal and something for lunch but wasn’t sure I could make it to Sainsburys. I walked round the corner to Pikey Iceland and brought some soup and milk and took advantage of the two for one Oat So Simple offer. I also broke down in the pizza section and brought three for £4!! Listen, they are frozen and so I can have one a week as a special treat!

Flattie called to say he, Mac and White John were at Eco having lunch and did I need any medication picking up on the way home. What a sweet heart! I walked up to meet them for coffee after promising that I was no longer contagious. Mac was recovering from a drinking binge that had started on Thursday afternoon and had finished early this morning. He and Jamie are a terribly destructive combination. WJ and BJ are going to Action tonight, which means they will end up after the after hours club Beyond. I do not think that is compatible with my recovery programme and so I will give it a miss. (FYI: I loathe Action and Beyond.)

Fox is in Manchester. Look out Canal Street, beware the predatory gentleman in yellow socks!

Sneezes...

2005-02-03T05:14:00.000-08:00

Have a stinking cold. Lemsip and loo roll at hand. I am wearing pink and orange Missoni socks and brown fabric Coach logo shoes. Grumpy David said that my cold has taken an unusual twist and blocked not my nose, but my sense of pattern co ordination. When I got dressed this morning I was feeling so rough and miserable I put on things I thought would perk me up. A bit like clothes as vitamins, hence the orange socks and bright yellow watch strap and pastelly pink and blue shirt, all the colours of little pills!

Tonight I have organised for Grumpy David, Fox and Flattie to go and see Sweeney Todd, the Sondheim musical. The boys don't normally do musicals, but I explained this one was blood thirsty and cannibalistic and they were sold on the idea. We'll see what they have to say later.

His Dark Materials

2005-02-02T02:11:00.000-08:00

Went to the theatre last night to see the second part of the adaptation of Philip Pullman's trilogy: http://www.nationaltheatre.org.uk/?lid=7927&tmpl=whatsonpics It is such and amazing spectacle. For those who have not read the books the plot is incredibly complex, think Lord of The Rings/Harry Potter/An analysis of the essence of religion, but the way the animals and spirits are brought to life is brilliant.

I dreamed of monsters and daemons and polar bears last night.

Feb 1st

2005-02-01T10:47:00.000-08:00

Hi there,

I am just about recovered from Mac's impromptu after hours party on Sunday night. The gang had met up for dinner at The Railway at 8pm on Sunday. It felt a bit like a Guerilla Gay Bar event as there were about 12 of us and then another table of gayers beside us. We had spilt up on Saturday night, with Mac going to a party in Clapham, the Johns staying in and watching DVD's, Flattie and I at Duckie, Fox and Adrian at a fancy dress party, Liverpool Martin at Queer Nation and I can't recall where the others were.

Fox and Flattie had been shopping that afternoon and arrived laden with purchases just as I about to relate the tales from Duckie. I had been on moderate good behaviour because there had been work related people there and I don't like to be caught falling off stage by people I have to deal with professionally later in the week. However we had managed to find a little hottie for Flattie and things were proceeding nicely, kissing on dancefloor, etc. Unfortunately just before The Readers Wives played "Their favourite song of all time" the small cutie announced he was "too wasted" to accompany Flattie home and anyway, he was "too choosy". Hmm. Not very impressed. When we got home Flattie was still raging and threw stuff around. Fortunately our flat is sparsely furnished and most of it is unbreakable. The rest of the gays made sympathetic noises and we all agreed for the 7903 time that, "Men are bastards."

This sentiment was echoed by Mau Mau. Her married, but separated lover of the past two years announced by email (Very modern, but totally unacceptable) that he was in Argentina and sleeping with prostitutes. Difficult news for a gay man to come to terms with, for a girl as sensitive as Mau, it destroyed her. There was not much I could say to make her feel better. I guess at least he wasn't looking for another relationship, he just wanted quick anonymous sex. Men do stuff like that, men are ...(7904)

Suddenly they were calling last orders at the bar and we all piled back to Mac's flat for more drinks! I don't know how it happpened, but there was singing and dancing until the early hours. I would publish pictures but I feel there could be law suits!

I must be hungover

2004-10-21T05:22:00.000-07:00

I was emailed this link and it made me laugh this morning.

http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=5527273221

I think we've all been there!

2004-10-20T06:55:00.000-07:00

If only all my friends were so obedient

Eeek! What have I done?

2004-10-18T04:33:00.000-07:00

Having read a couple of other peoples daily rants I decided to take the plunge and try and do something myself. This is the first post and as I am at work will be suitably brief, but there will be more to come.