Merry This, Happy That. Plus Cake.

I know it's a bit late but Happy New Year from OMO Towers, Dear Reader(s)! This is pretty much the first time since Christmas Eve that I can actually keep my hands still long enough to type sensibly. No, not Parkinson's, just too much alcohol and stuff (cake, mainly).

Anyway, did you have a nice Christmas and New Year? Really? Well, that's all very interesting but let's talk about me for a bit shall we?

I have to say that our Christmas was wonderful. We spent 48 hours in the company of OBM#1 and #2, and what a great two days it was. Lots of lovely food (turkey, ham, all the trimmings) and drink, and plenty of giggling. It turns out that OBM#2 (he with the lovely grey beard and blue eyes, and the same first name as me) and I have exactly the same taste buds, i.e. we like sweet stuff, whilst The Boyf and OBM#1 (who also share the same first name) go for savouries. Imagine our reluctance to share an enormous Christmas cake between only the two of us! And then start on the chocolates, mince pies, etc.

Christmas actually started early for us aswell, in the shape of a Greek who found his way into our bed on the Friday night before Christmas. We'd met him on the Thursday, but due to some reason involving a dog and a rubbish bin we couldn't have our fill of him until the next night. And as hot as he was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans it was still a shock to find out just how incredible he was unclothed. My tongue had to be reeled back into my mouth. Christianity hasn't managed to destroy all the Greek Gods, apparently.

Anyway, we finally left OBM's late on Boxing night so that we could wake up in our own bed together and have a lovely day to ourselves.

Two evenings later we staged the return leg of Christmas at our house for OBM's and The Drag Queen, which involved all of us eating another huge turkey and ham, more cake, chocolate, mince pies etc, and then talking complete rubbish til 4am. Needless to say I phoned in work sick the next morning.

The next evening (now Friday before New Year), The Boyf and I, plus The Drag Queen, headed north for another Christmas meal with The Boyf's ex and his partner, which involved eating another turkey, more ham, cake, chocolates, mince pies etc. Can you see a pattern emerging?

Saturday afternoon it was back to London and then drinks at BarCodeV, followed by The Hoist for the Recon party, to work off some of the Christmas excesses. And work it off I did, with a rather dishy policeman and his truncheon, who seemed to be able to cum every few minutes without having to take a breath inbetween. Kinda humbling, but I wasn't complaining.

New Years Eve involved the dreaded XXL with OBM's, which was as bad as we'd feared. I mean, a danced-up version of Billie Jean, in this day and age. What were they thinking? So we showed our faces and then headed to Fire for the 23 hour "Juicy" marathon. With a new room freshly opened (we didn't need poppers, the stink of paint kept us high as kites) with LED lights across the ceiling and two walls it really has to be seen to be believed. We christened it the "Justin Timberlake Room" as it looked like one of his videos, and every time we set foot in there we ended up acting like we were indeed in a JT video, complete with odd robotic dance moves. We were drunk and high on fumes, remember. The God put in a rather lovely appearance, and we all went home on Monday afternoon with smiles on our faces, even though we were shaking so much our vision was blurred.

So, there you go. Much food, lots of drink, gorgeous men, great presents, and most of all the best friends I could possibly ask for. I've never had a better Christmas and New Year.