The ever wonderful Erin over at Lylium.org has taken this wonderful photo of her friend Teal dressed as Princess Leia. Now, believe it or not that R2D2 is actually a post box! I do love our iconic red pillarboxes we have over here, but sometimes I wish we could do something as cool as this.



Check out the blog entry "Damsel in Distress" as well as the rest of Erin's fabulous blog. It is completely different to mine, but she is a funny, cool person and she takes some amazing photographs. The picture has spread across the net like wildfire and now she and Teal are hoping to use it to help raise some money for Teal's Scholarship Fund in an effort to secure her the place she gained at Cambridge.

I know this isn't a bitchy, witty entry but sometimes you just have to give a girl her due and say wow. The fact that she is a foxy redhead certainly helps, us gays love our fiery haired minxes.

So, recent reports reveal that Keira Knightley has decided to give up acting. Personally, I am not sure she ever began. But hey, who am I to questions good news.

I have nothing against her personally, except the fact that she seems a little self-inflated (ego wise, I could hardly be talking about anything else in her case) and the fact that she seems to have achieved her movie roles purely on the premise that she is skinny and vaguely attractive. That's Hollywood I guess.

A friend of mine saw her in some dire period piece and reported that she was so wooden on screen that it was like watching an ironing board in a frock. So basically she is flat as a pancake and stands in the corner and is hardly used. Bah.

It annoys me that there are so many talented actors in our country and the only ones that seem to get work abroad are the dull, skinny pretty ones and the truly talented ones have to wait until middle age whereupon they will get a slew of 'character' roles and then inevitably play some royal in an oscar grabbing portrayal. Don't get me wrong I ADORE La Dench and Dame Helen, but even they get pigeon-holed so much of the time and rarely REALLY get to use their formidable acting skills unless it is on stage (and anyone who has seen them treading the boards will know what I mean).

I know it is almost anathema for me to say it, but are some things more important that having a fabulous Oscar dress and wearing it well. Oh man, that sentence actually hurt to type. Am I a bad gay man to want some talent to go along with my glamour? Is that SO wrong?

Of course I couldn't give a fig about the men as long as they are pretty and spend a good deal of the film shirtless. This is why I may be one of the few people on the planet that is looking forward to Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer. Sure, the trailers look good, but I can't quite wash the stink of the first film from my brain yet. What it DOES have going for it is the hope that Chris Evans (Below) will spend a good portion of the film burning his clothes off again.

Marry me Christopher. sigh

I just received a lovely email from Richard in Canada (that is not him in the pic, that's Jordan and Peter Andre) who reads my blog with his husband and two dogs and it got me to thinking on the topic of Gay Marriage. Several of my friends have got married over this last year and it seems to be a wonderful thing for them, even though I know it is not for me. I think it is great that people in stable, loving relationships now have that extra level of security and (shudder) commitment that only brings them closer together and, I think, gives them that next level that can often stabilize a relationship and help it last.


But BY god I thought that having lots of gay friends would mean that I wouldn't have to spend a good part of my post 30 years shelling out for wedding presents, how wrong I was. It is not just any wedding presents either, with gays it is wedding LISTS! Wedding lists from places like John Lewis, Harrods and Fortnum and Masons. That old adage of gays having taste is only partly true, gays have expensive taste. Now, I want you to stretch your imaginations here and envision the possibility that I would ever want to settle down (This is obviously after they legalise 3 day marriages and multi-partner relationships) my wedding list would more than likely be at a place like the local comic shop, a choclatiers and somewhere that sold porn.

I am a man of simple tastes. I like my men simple and I like my life simple, unless the complications are dramatic and I can go on and on about it to anyone who will listen of course.
I would probably have the ceremony in a park, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and the reception at a nearby bar. Instead of spending money on cards and dressing up nicely, everyone can buy me a drink. Presents of course would be mandatory but given my choices of shop, also pretty cheap.

No, sorry, I can't go on. That's what I would like to do, but in reality I would bankrupt myself to have some kind of spectacular ceremony just so I can rub people's faces in my happiness and then spend the next ten years forcing the photo's of the event upon anyone that came calling. After all, isn't that the whole reason for marriage?

Pinkies

Thing 1 and I coined a new word today.

It is a habit of the press in the UK to coin acronyms for different social classes, I am not sure how widespread this habit is, or whether is is just a British thing but in the past few decades we had YUPPIES (Young Urban Professional), YUMMY (Young Upwardly Mobile Mum) and then DINKIES (Double Income No Kids). Now I am surprised nobody has come up with this before, but after some thorough research (5 minutes on google) we decided that we were the first people to use the word PINKIE in reference to outr neighbours. Not because they are some kind of communist household, but rather that they are a well established gay couple with a decent income and their own house. PINKIE stands for Pink Income No Kids.

We hear a lot of tales in the gay community of how strong the Pink Pound is and how lucrative a target market we are and I think it is true. I mean seriously, did they really think it was kids that kept Steps at the top of the charts for so long? Would Dolly Parton have been wealthy enough to build the kingdom of camp that is Dollywood if not for those Cowboys in rhinestones that *ahem* admire Tom of Finland so much? And KD Lang's Ingenue album certainly did not chart so high through her dress sense.

Our Gaybours (also a new word copyright Thing 1 and Gaymo) are constantly upgrading their house. Almost each month there is a new bathroom being added or a new super wide, flatscreen tv appearing in another room/hall/toilet/cupboard. It is quite heartwarming to think that whilst our wonderful heterosexual brothers and sisters often do not get to spend their money on themselves until the kids have been thrown into the real world by the scruff of their necks, we only have ourselves and occasional cats and dogs to spend out hard earned money on.

Of course I am certainly not there yet, still being a hedonistic singleton who spends his hard earned cash on Pink Converse and impressing boys. Thankfully, here is where the gaycosystem REALLY starts to work. What do those PINKIES do with all the 6 month old electronics, furniture, gadgets and porn that is now so horrendously out of date? Why they donate it to us younger, less upwardly mobile (more horizontally stationary) homos!! This is why our living room sports two newish trendy sofas and a fabulous new Television. It is Nurture over nature at its best.

Thing 1 has just informed me that PINKIES should really be reserved for gay men, our sapphic sisters apparently should henceforth be referred to as LICKERS (Lesbian Income, Cat, Kids, Exes, Renovations, Strap-ons)

Go forth my minons and work hard to ensure that these are in the Oxford English Dictionary as soon as possible. Fly my pretties, FLY!

Oh my god I have been SO utterly bored. I would have updated my blog in the last three weeks, but sadly I have been off work with a slipped disc, so the most interesting thing I have seen is the four walls of my (admittedly fabulous) remarkably tidy room.

Before I get a flood of comments asking whether I did it during some kinky sex games, the answer is sadly not. It was even gayer that that. I was happily ensconced at my desk at work when a colleague decided it would be funny to poke me in the ribs. Now, as with everything I do, when I jump I go the whole hog and I must have levitated about six inches from my chair and twisted my spine in an awkward manner. So yes, it did involve another gay, six inches and poking, but alas not in the fun way.


Now I wont bore you with details of the pain involved in a slipped disc, but what I do want to say is how utterly FABULOUS the drugs they give you are. I have been on a cocktail of strong painkillers, anti-inflammatory pills and muscle relaxants (which just happen to be the divine Diazepam). Now, I don't know what my housemates found funniest, the sight of me hobbling around or the fact that I had less of an attentions span than a homosexual with Freddie Ljungberg on one side of the road and Kylie on the other. Simple anecdotes would take an age to finish as I wondered off on various tangents that had little to do with the original subject matter...

So you see, that is why I waited until I was off the bulk of the pills before creating a blog entry and only have a picture of my recent New York trip to illustrate it with. Other wise you would have had 1000 words talking about how great daytime tv is and what I would have worn to the oscars, but also did you know what I had for dinner and isn't Daniel Radcliffe HOT these days (out of my mind you see).

So, back to regular broadcast schedule with a more coherent, more focused...

Oh look, America's Next Top Model is on, must dash....

I spotted this little chap on my way to work and It got me thinking...Is life so stressful in London that it even forces the pigeons to turn to alcohol and cigarettes? It has been a funny few weeks and today kind of capped it for me, my day was dull and little difficult and ended with me saying farewell to a lovely girl who is emigrating and I shall miss terribly, but two of my close friends had absolutely awful evenings, one unfortunate and one positively appalling. I wont go into detail about either as they are rather personal and I am not one to divulge personal details of friends lives unless there is some comic value in the retelling, but both of these were linked in some way, I believe, to city living. Being a part of that huge, anonymous, gray urban sprawl.

In a way it has been a bit of a kick in the pants for me. I realised that for the past few months I have been coasting along letting life happen to me, Just sitting back and sinking into that amorphous mass that is the inhabitants of any city in the world. Where has my drive gone? My enthusiasm and creativity? I haven't been unhappy per se, but I HAVE been incredibly passive (and SO not in the good way dammit) falling into a routine that was comfortable but static.

I think that I need to really work on getting myself out of this rut I have made for myself (mmm rut) and start concentrating on moving my life forward again. I will focus more on my writing, spend some time looking for another job and maybe do a course in something or other. I have been toying with the idea of expanding my practical skills in some way and maybe Project Runway/Catwalk will inspire me to do fashion design. Something I toyed with at college but never really threw myself into. Who knows what the future will hold if only I put my mind to it. It is about time I stopped advising other people and listened to what I am saying myself.

Wish me luck and pour me an Apple Martini, I may be home late tonight...

It's interesting how one is sometimes forced to re examine priorities in life. I have always said how I don't WANT a relationship and I am happy on my own but recently I have discovered that is wrong. I DO want a boyfriend, it's just that I don't think I would be very good at keeping one. It's similar to my unfulfilled childhood ambition of being an Astronaut. I know I would love to do it, I can imagine myself at launch pad, taking off and floating weightless inside the space station but at the same time I am fully aware that I don't have the dedication, intelligence or physicality to actually do the job. The same thing is true of a monogamous relationship. I know the idea appeals to me, but I just don't think I am wired that way. Ah well ces't la vie.

Oh and in a hilarious attempt at misdirection to try and stop you all asking why I haven't posted in months here is a picture of me in 1940'2 army uniform complete with REAL moustache for my works Christmas Party. Enjoy...

Ahh, I love the onset of Winter, really I do. There is something so fresh and clean about it, that crisp, clear tang in the air. The turning on of the heating so that you feel toasty inside and exhilerated when outside. I always think of the onset of Winter as a clean slate, the promise of snow coming to make everything white and fresh and new.

This last week has been very good for me indeed. I am over my heartbreak enough to get on with things and genuinely wish the two guys well together. I have met so many great men over the last few weeks in my dating overload and even managed to reconnect with the Sexy Dr Dick that some of you may remember from earlier this year. Although he is now in a relationship so incredible sexual tension aside it will all stay strictly above the waist....

So yes. The weight is continuing to fall off, I lost a full half a stone last week and people keep commenting how good I look. Of course this makes me feel super confident and hence the high success rate on my recent dates. Mmmmmmm dates. Oh and come monday it will be a whole month since I quit smoking! Go team Gaymo, bring on the male cheerleaders....

This week was a particularly fruitful one. I lost 4lbs (total lost so far 11) and it is now 2 weeks since I was a smoker. If you could see through this computer screen, you would see what I like to call, my smug face. It's a face I enjoy using I should really take a picture soon...

My mother has also been inspired by me to start a diet too, I wish her the best of luck, but I worry about some of the funny ideas she seems to have about calorie control. Here are some of my mothers beliefs about calories....

1) If it is stolen from someone else's plate, the calories do not count.

2) If it is eaten whilst cooking, the calories do not count.

3) If you leave a forkful of food on a plate, then you have consumed only half the calories originally on that plate.

4) Free food is free from calories.

5) Chocolate consumed whilst walking to the shops contains no calories at all.

6) Being drunk burns off calories and therefore negates any that were in the alcohol.

Ah well, it could be worse, my father doesn't even believe calories exist. All 26 stone of him.

In the meantime people have started to notice my weight loss and this has helped make me less attractive by the broadening of the smug face. Funnily enough I seem to be a bit swamped by boys at the moment too, but I think that is a whole other entry in itself (fnar) ........

I have not been blogging for long enough, or regular enough for this to be something I would get nominated in, but check out the Gay Bloggies Awards and think of me or my dear friends The Pirate King and Glitterforbrains.

Of course, if you did vote for me in any of the categories, I would love you forever!

So, it is day 4 of GaymosexualXP. That is 4 days of not smoking (WOO-YAY), 4 days of dieting and 4 days of exercise. Unfortunately, it is 1 day of dirty, stinking, rotten cold which left me with 1/2 hrs sleep last night and all the energy of a dissected frog and a slight fever.

Now, I don't know whether it was fever, nicotine withdrawal or hunger related psychosis, but at 10pm this evening I decided it would be a good idea to go for a jog. I haven't jogged since I was 13. That was in the eighties. To further complicate the matter, I decided on a gentle 10 minute jog to start me off, but got horrendously lost and 35 minutes later wheezed myself back into the house and shower and collapsed upon the bed. I may wait until the cold has gone before attempting this again and stick to my trusty rowing machine where I can work-out to the sensual encouragement of America's Next Top Model.

But yes, apart from the cold I am doing surprisingly well. My calorie intake today was 1250 and I don't feel hungry, I am not craving ciggies and my MA remains P.

Insomnia is a bitch isn't it? When it reaches 5:16 am and one is still wide awake and having got up again after a pointless 4 hours of lying abed trying to sleep is it proper practice to simply write the night off and get on with your day? Is a few hours of bad sleep better than no sleep at all? Or is it like jet-lag and should you push through in the hope of a better nights sleep the next evening? Will I be able to flirt effectively at the important party I am due to attend in 15 hours?

So many questions and yet, so much time on my hands!

Recently I have found a distinct lack of awareness amongst my fellow homosexuals on a particularly important matter. To remedy this, I have decided to bring to your attention some information on this topic.

Ahem.

Bring it on has a sequel.
It is called Bring it on Again.

This sequel has now spurned a further film entitled Bring it on Again:All or Nothing

Thankyou for your time.

A Gaymosexual's Guide to Dating. Lesson 2

Ok, this it a brief section on tips and tricks for that phase in between the first meeting and the first date. You have ordered your food, so to speak, and this lesson is the breadsticks and olives you nibble on before the meal.

1) This is especially for my friend Miss CASSt. Never EVER state how you feel towards someone in a text message, an email or most importantly a letter. Flirting is fine, casual questions and arrangements are fine, information and banter is fine. But I cannot stress enough how much of a misjudgment it is to even write an innocuous statement such as "I really like you". One can never gauge the tone of a written statement accurately, no matter how well you write it, also, you never know the mood of that person when they receive it and this can change their perception of it hugely. SO NO, Put that pen DOWN girl.

2) Seed your communications with interesting facts about yourself, but never elaborate too much. For example "It was SO busy at work today, its a good job I used to dance or I would NEVER have made it through the crowds" When he asks, "what dance did you do?" Or "You must be flexible then?" you did, say "Oh, I will tell you all about it when I see you, it's too much to go into now"

Obviously, you can put any activity or hobby in there, but this tip works on two different levels. A) It makes you intriguing and he will be thinking about you and what you are going to tell him, thus keeping him at the forefront of your mind and B) Saving up important conversation points for the date, thus leading to....

3) Think of 10 questions that you can ask your beau during the evening to spur the conversation on. Sometimes on a first date the conversation can flow and it will get to 1am and you will wonder where the time/your knickers have gone. Other times, there can be a perfectly enjoyable evening with a lovely man, but those awkward moments where you are very aware that one of you needs to think of something to talk about QUICKLY!

So, have in your head some questions that relate to him in some way another. Think of what you DO know about him Work, job, hobbies, friends in common etc and save them up for any potentially dry moments in the evening. Dry is NOT what we are aiming for here people. Try and avoid any of the usual "What is your favorite band/movie/ice-cream" and go for something that will spark off a story. If you are on a date with a man and he finds that at the end of the evening he has talked about himself for the whole night, I guarantee you that he will want that second date and come away thinking he had a brilliant evening...

Next.... The hours BEFORE the date.

A Gaymosexual's Guide to Dating. Lesson 1

I suppose I have known you all long enough now to trust you with a few secrets of mine. A word of advice or a piece of helpful encouragement to all you guys and gals out there that want help and, naturally, come to me to get it. It's ok, don't be shy, we can treat this as a learning experience. You scratch my back and I will, well, do pretty much anything you want for a bag or marbles and a slice of cheese on toast.

I have decided to start a series of advice posts in this blog to share with you all my particular area of expertise....Dating. I consider myself something of an expert at dating, its something, like abusing prescription medication, that I have done enough of to have developed a certain knack for. I think it is only fair that I share this knowledge with YOU my pretties. Please use it well...

A Gaymosexual's Guide to Dating. Lesson 1

Ok, the first piece of advice I am going to share with you is something useful in the pick-up stage. That first meeting in a bar, theatre or park late at night that can signify the beginning of a beautiful relationship. It's a technique that has served me well over the past *mumble* years and one I now bequeath to you. It is called the 3 look rule and it goes something like this...

Stage 1.

Stage one of the 3 look rule is the easiest to implement and the most difficult to follow through on. It simply involves the making of eye contact with a chosen hunk and holding it for approximately 3 seconds. If the eye contact is reciprocated proceed to stage 2 and if not repeat stage 1 with another hunk of choice. It is important to remember not to make any kind of facial expression during stage one, other than the locking of eyes.

Stage 2.

After successful completion of stage one a short break must be undertaken of no less than 10 seconds and no more than 3 minutes for maximum effect. Consider your movements and body posture carefully during this break, if you are drinking an embarrassing alcopop, slide it surreptitiously across the table so that it appears that someone else is drinking it. Suck in your gut and casually arrange your hair/clothes to maximize your attractiveness. When ready re-establish eye contact with Mr Gorgeous and hold for approximately 5-10 seconds. During stage 2 you may allow a faint smile to appear round your mouth and a slight raising of one eyebrow is also permitted, but PLEASE make sure that both of these movements are very subtle indeed. Once this task is complete proceed to stage 3.

Stage 3.

This is the most important and delicate phase of the whole operation and must only be undertaken when you are satisfied that the first two stages are complete and the object of your affection is suitably intrigued. It is important that you are looking up at your subject, so unless you have hobbit heritage like myself it may be best to be seated during this exercise. If the subject of your lust is a midget or in a wheelchair then I would advise squatting casually by a wall as if rummaging though a bag. After a break of at least 1 minute and no more than 5 you must again make eye contact with your victim, remember you MUST be looking slightly UP at him for this to be failsafe. This time you must maintain eye-contact for as long as you see fit but just before you break away I want you to smile shyly at your future husband, briefly look down and quickly regain contact. Brighten that smile and look away again.

This is all you need to do now and I will guarantee that you have hooked your man. Do not make eye contact again with him until HE approaches you, which he now has no choice but to do. If you have followed all these procedures correctly and he has not come over you are permitted to go to the bar/toilet/bush and ever so gently brush past him, but this is generally unnecessary.

Good luck my lovelies and part 2 will come soon where I will impart some handy hints as to how to behave when you are actually ON a date, so that man just can't get enough of you. .

Taken from B3ta and originally posted by Admiral Drew Peacock

I swear tonsillitis not only makes one feel absolutely horrible, but it prevents me from doing several of my favorite things as well. Namely: eating, talking and kissing boys. (the obvious sex life implications glossed over for I am still a gentleman who insists on tongue to tongue before tongue to anywhere else). Anyway, yes. I am feeling utterly sorry for myself in a way that only the homosexual male can do. Thank the gods that tonsils are not required to type and I can still seek sympathy lamely on the interweb.

It is a good job I am not back in work until Tuesday, this gives me plenty of time to recover, but on the other hand, I can't really go out either. I AM SO BORED! It didn't help that the bin men woke me up this morning by being particularly loud. Usually I am not one to complain when a bunch of burly men clamor outside my bedroom window, in fact it is positively welcome under normal circumstances. SO, maybe expect more regular updates of a particularly self pitying Bent over the next few days. I know you will all love that.

Oh, and before any smart alecs out there get any ideas. It is definitely tonsillitis and not bruising, if only I were so lucky. Although the still unhealed carpet burns on my knees are another matter entirely...

I had lunch this evening with a millionaire porn baron. No, really I did. He's a good friend of mine who has recently given up the reigns of his porn empire to focus his attentions on more pressing matters such as masturbation and sleeping until noon. Bastard. I am sure if I ran such an empire I would be bounding into work with more energy than Gary Glitter at a cub scout camp. But I suppose even the greater things in life loose their charms after repeat exposure. One only has to think of 'Friends', 'Desperate Housewives' and S Club 7 to remember how something shiny and wonderful soon turns into something faded, dull and so annoying that you have to lock it in the attic (But you still can't quite bring yourself to throw away).

It always motivates me when I am surrounded by rich, successful, good-looking people. I always find myself either reaching for the knife, or reaching towards my diary in a vein hope of filling my life more usefully. I know that most of you consider boys, glamour and the attention of celebrities a worthwhile pursuit, but I can't help feeling that there is something more to it all. That there is something I can give back...

So, I have been working on a top secret project that you will hear about very soon.....

We have Thing 1 and Thing 2's mother here for a few days, always lovely to see her as I get treated as the sons he never had, she even brings us pink iced buns, a sure fire way to get in my good books. Anyway, as Thing 1 is in Canada at the Gay Games with her girlfriend I took the opportunity to find out as many embarrassing stories about Thing 2 as possible.

Completely in keeping with her character I found out that her first word was 'Bugger'. Still a favorite of hers today. It is interesting to find out what people's first word was and to note whether it bore any relation to their characters in later life. Mine was either 'flower' or 'banana' so either gay or food obsessed would work perfectly for me. Another friend of mine's first word was 'car' and they are now a taxi driver. What was your first word and did it bear any relation to who you are now? Obviously we can discount mum or dad unless you have turned out to have particularly incestuous tendencies, in which case it could be a funny story. For us anyway...

I implore you all to go to iTunes or your nearest music store and purchase a copy of Betcha Bottom Dollar by the Puppini Sisters. They are the fabulous act that I saw at Duckie the other week and are well worth a listen to. Campy, quirky and clever they are a modern swing group consisting of 3 gorgeous girls and a hunk-filled band. As well as classic swing tunes such as Mr Sandman and Jeepers Creepers, they also do perfectly harmonised versions of camp modern classics such as I Will Survive, Heart of Glass and Wuthering Heights and a sublime version of Panic by the Smiths....

It's all well worth a listen to. Go on, feel smug and discover them before they hit the big time!