Pride Bomb?

We're just hearing the news this morning that a suspected car bomb has been found in The Haymarket, near Picadilly. Experts have dismantled it. Details seem a little sketchy at the moment but it's being described as a "big device" and a "real and substantial threat".

The Haymarket is on tomorrows London Pride parade route. I hope I'm jumping to conclusions but all the signs are pointing to a terrorist attack on our Pride. At the very least the area is now cordoned off, so the parade may have to take a different route.

Whatever happens we'll be there of course. The weather might dampen our spirits but a bomb plot won't.

UPDATE: I've just had this conversation with The Boyf...

OMO: Have you heard about the bomb?

The Boyf: Yeah, and the weather's awful.

OMO: I know. It's totally going to muck up my "do".

The Boyf: So a bomb then. We'll have to make sure we wear our best underwear, just in case.

OMO: Yeah, we want to look nice for the emergency services.


UPDATE 2: As further details emerge it looks unlikely that it was aimed at Pride. It seems that it was a Mercedes packed with gas canisters and nails and was due to go off in the early hours of this morning. For what ever reason it didn't ignite, and it was ever-vigilant ambulancemen who spotted the smoking car and alerted the authorities. I think London's very lucky not to have awoken to a tragedy this morning.

OMO's Album Review - Erasure

Now, as you may be aware from my movie reviews I don't tend to provide the most in-depth and eloquent observations, preferring to give an overall feel and thumbs up or down. So you won't be surprised to find that my album reviews are going to be largely the same. Which takes us swiftly on to...

Erasure's "Light At The End Of The World"

I love this album. In fact I cried when I first played it, more than once. I've always bought Erasure singles and albums on the day they were released, ever since "Sometimes" and "The Circus". I can remember the first time I ever became aware of their existence too; they played "Who Needs Love Like That" on Cheggars Plays Pop when it came out (which would make it 1985) and I loved it. When I started buying records in 1986 "Heavenly Action" was the 6th 12 inch I bought (from an early age I had Size Queen tendencies and wouldn't touch a 7 inch). It was in a bargain bin and I remembered liking them from seeing that tv appearance. It was quickly followed by me finally buying the singles I'd missed and then the LP "Wonderland".

Anyway, moving on; Erasure, along with Depeche Mode, became the soundtrack to my teenage years and my 20's. It helped that my first proper boyfriend (we'll call him Chippy) was a big fan too and we always went to see them live on each tour. "Cowboy" was the last album and tour we shared as a couple, and I've always felt that Erasure's albums took a turn at the same time as my life. Both seemed to go downhill.

During this time, although I still bought the Erasure albums as they came out, they didn't hold my attention. "Loveboat" in particular I felt was a bit flat. It was lacking in flair and fun, just like my life. And then came "Other People's Songs" - Erasure by numbers. In my life too I was going through the motions.

The new album was the first since "The Circus" that I didn't rush out and buy on the day of release. Instead I ordered it off the internet a week later then had to wait for it to turn up. I wasn't really expecting much. Sure, "I Could Fall In Love With You" is a good single, but one good song doesn't make a good album. "Light At The End..." is a sparkling return to form though, and as I sat and listened to it all I thought was that my old partner would love it. It reminds me so much of the Erasure albums of the 80's and 90's, of the happy times I spent driving along with Chippy on a summers day, windows down and singing our hearts out. And that's why I cried; because of all the happy memories it invoked, and because both Erasure and my life are in a happy place again.

I won't do a track by track account, needless to say that Erasure's sound never really moves on much, but this time the song writing seems back on a par with their best work. Personal favourites are "Sunday Girl" and "Storm In A Teacup".

Chips And Fish

Friday night saw the re-opening of "Chunk", which has now moved venue from South Central to Area. Apparently there was a big falling out between the promoters of Chunk and South Central over the Bar-B-Q (food - a typically "bear" thing to fall out over) which means that Fridays at SC are now called Bloke, whilst Chunk is a 5 min walk down the road. We popped into Bloke on the way but nobody was there, so we had one drink and walked to Chunk.

They say that Paris Hilton would attend the opening of a crisp packet (although recently I would imagine the only opening she's attended has been that of her cell-mate), and with bears this is also true, quite literally. Bears have never seen a buffet they don't like. So the bears had flocked to the opening of Chunk and were rewarded with big plates of chips. Very nice chips too. I didn't have any of course, I'm watching my weight. At least, I didn't have any when people were watching.

There seemed to be a large group of guys over from Atlanta, and I vaguely recognised one from chatting on the internet. Needless to say we snogged, then asked each other's name, then The Boyf cut in with a "Shouldn't we all be in bed somewhere?". So off we went to take turns biting the pillow. Good old Southern hospitality.

I don't think I'd ever tire of hearing "Go on Boy, take that big cock" in a Southern drawl.

We spent Saturday doing quiet things as we needed to be up early on Sunday for a drive to the Midlands (again) for The Boyf's Dad's birthday meal. To try to make something of the day we stopped by at Birmingham Sea-Life Centre on the way as I like me some fish. I don't know why I torture myself though. Every time I come away from such a place I berate myself for not following through with my childhood desire to be a Marine Biologist. Perhaps when I retire I can move somewhere and spend my days diving and helping the underwater environment. It's a dream at any rate...

The Monday Morning BlogBite - The Dome

After a big(ish) Friday night out The Boyf and I decided to go for a walk on Saturday afternoon to get some air, so we jumped on the Tube and made our way over to the Dome (now know at The O2) to see what it looks like now it's been turned into a concert venue and 11-screen cinema. What we didn't realise was that the world and his wife had also headed there for some sort of open day, which we didn't have tickets for.

Whatever, I was quite impressed with the Dome and North Greenwich is now my favourite Tube station, what with it's blue mosaic tiling, stainless steel and blue mood lighting. We decided to walk around the outside of the Dome, and at the half way point got caught in a torrential downpour and were soaked through, being dressed in just t-shirt and jeans. Still, it woke us up.

Just looking forward to actually going there for a concert sometime.

OMO's Gig Review - INXS

Last night The Boyf and I headed over to the Hammersmith Apollo to see one of his favourite groups, INXS. He's been a fan for 20-odd years and this was the second time we've seen them since the new lead singer, JD, joined (or I should say "was found").

I hate the way that old theatres are turned into concert venues but don't seem to be cared for. I know faded grandeur can be appealing, but in the case of the Apollo I just felt sorry for the place. It really could do with a good lick of paint, a bit of TLC. It looked sad.



The Boyf has something about him which draws people in. Some sort of magnetism. It worked last night on JD, who spotted him immediately and came over during the first song to hold his outstreached hand. After than he kept coming over and singing directly to him, or taking his beer off him to have a drink, or even at one point bringing over the bottle of champagne he was swigging from to let The Boyf drink straight from it. He largely ignored everyone else at our end of the stage, and certainly noone else got the same level of treatment. Afterwards The Boyf was all smiles and clearly his head was several hat sizes larger than on entering the building.

As for the actual music; well, this was everything that George Michael wasn't. JD has clearly grown into a credible front man and held the audience in the palm of his hand. They delivered all the major hits - Suicide Blond, Never Tear Us Apart, Devil Inside, Need You Tonight etc - with flair and precision, and were obviously enjoying themselves a great deal. And of course when the band are so obviously having fun this translates to the crowd.

If you like live music (even if, like me, you're not a big INXS fan) I can highly recommend going to see them.

Have a good weekend, Dear Reader.

Why My Friends Think I'm Weird: Pt.4

Most kids pray for something; a new bike, the ability to fly, a pass in an exam. But when I was a kid I always prayed for the same thing; that I wouldn't be over 5 feet 10 inches when I grew up.

I'd always been fascinated with cars from an early age - my first drawing wasn't Mummy and Daddy, it was a car - and I'd read that anyone over 5 feet 10 couldn't fit comfortably in a Lamborghini Countach - my favourite car since the age of 6 when my Dad bought me home a set of Supercar Top Trumps. Convinced that one day I would own one I was frightened that I'd end up too big to fit in it, hence I prayed to be a short arse every night.

Unfortunately I forgot to also pray for the Lamborghini, hence I've ended up being 5 feet 8 and driving a Honda. Bollocks!

Me? Bitter?

Apparently we're back "on clubbing", at least we were last weekend.

OBM#1 was DJing again at Juicy (at Fire) so a group of us went along to support him. The place seems a little lacking in atmosphere at the moment (after it was raided a few weeks ago), although the new "chill out" area was a big surprise, and very nice. After OBM#1 finished his set we went through to the main room to find the music uniformly dreadful. Someone had turned on a drum machine and then left in a hurry by the sound of it. Anyway, there was a big enough group of us to have a good time and we finally left at around 7am.

Sunday was the RVT, of course, and what a handsome crowd had turned out. The Most Beautiful Man In London, Possibly In The UK (TM) was there, with his boyfriend (boooo!) but as usual I couldn't get him to acknowledge my existence. I shall persist until the scales fall from his eyes, or at least until my internet order of chloroform has turned up.

Now, earlier in the week there had been a discussion about Sunday night. The Boyf and The Drag Queen both had Monday and Tuesday off work this week and had decided to go to DTPM after the RVT. The tried to encourage me to have a days holiday and join them but I figured it was better to save the day off for a better time. Little did I know that during the week the number of people deciding to take time off and go along had swelled, such that come Sunday evening I appeared to be the only one in the RVT not staying out. Still they tried to encourage me to phone in sick, but I couldn't. So at around 11pm there was a mass migration - The Boyf heading off with OBM's - leaving me and a few messy stragglers at the RVT. At that time of the evening the RVT is filled with smoke with just random people flailing their limbs around, looking lost and bewildered. Many of them resemble early life-forms swimming through a primordial soup. Needless to say I left in a hurry when a bug-eyed monster took a shine to me and started to lumber over, dribbling. I did, of course, give the Sexy Spaniard a kiss or two on the way though.

When I got home I followed the usual routine. Undress and shower, check internet for messages, turn on vacuum cleaner, get into bed, fall asleep. I think I missed something off the list between getting into bed and falling asleep but you don't need to know about that.

And that, Dear Reader, was my weekend. A quiet one this week, methinks, in preparation for London Pride the following weekend.

The Monday Morning Blogbite

They appear to be demolishing this building from the ground up (whilst leaving all the windows intact), leaving this strange hanging office space looming over the street. It never ceases to put the willies up me - and not in a way that I enjoy. Judging by the number of people who look up and then cross the street I'm not the only one who doesn't like the look of it.




As usual I don't know anything about it - what it was or what they're going to put in its place. The usual dearth of useful information you've come to expect.

Again, With Less Feeling

On Saturday The Boyf and I joined the massive George Michael fan that is The Drag Queen, plus another friend of hers, to go to the new Wembley Stadium to see the first ever concert played there - rather obviously George Michael. As you may recall we'd already been to see him last year so weren't really worried about seeing him again, but we like to support The DQ in all she does, and we were rather looking forward to seeing Wembley and being among the first inside.

So, here's what Wembley looks like now.

Quite nice, but it doesn't seem to have any real individual character, unlike the old one. It could be a sports stadium anywhere, and doesn't really seem all that modern or innovative.

But the biggest surprise was inside. It actually feels smaller than the old one even though it's alot bigger. It seems to be more circular and thus wider but shorter than before, plus it's alot taller. Also, it feels incredibly enclosed. The closable roof was open, yet only a square in the middle is open to the elements, meaning a lack of air movement. It feels like a closed space with a little hole cut in the roof. And you can't see the arch from inside 'cause it's too far over to one side.

Overall I'd say we were underwhelmed by it, although it's obviously a great improvement over the old stadium in so many ways, such as with its hospitality suites.

As for George - he underwhelmed us too. In fact, he did more than that - he managed to annoy us. He had an area in front of the stage christened the "Circle Of Faith" (rolls eyes) with limited access at £150 a pop. We were actually in the front row of the next section, so very close to the action. Anyway, at one point he walked out and addressed the "Circle"...

George (to the Circle of Faith): "So, you people are my real fans".

70,000-odd others: "Booooooooooooooooooooo!"

Apparently only paying £60 to go and see him didn't class us as fans. It's so nice that he rewarded his "true fans" by making them pay so much more.

He was in good voice, as always, although again we noted that he didn't go for one single high note, opting instead to hold the microphone out for the audience to sing them. I have no doubt that he could probably hit the notes just fine, I think he was just being lazy. All in all his performance was like something he phoned in rather than putting any effort in. He seemed bored, and as a result so were we. Oh, and where was the "Very Special Guest" exactly? And why did he perform "Freedom 90" twice - once in the second half and once as an encore, with no difference between them?

All in all we had a great day out though. The weather was nice, we made new friends in the queue, we checked out the hot security guards, and a sexy cameraman went "Woof!" when we walked past. And afterwards The Boyf and I shimmied our arses over to XXL where we grabbed the first available man, dragged him back to ours and shagged him senseless. So all's well that ends well.

The Monday Morning(ish) Blogbite - Holiday Update

The Boyf and I managed to sort out one more thing to do with our holiday - we're now fitting in LazyBear weekend during our holiday in San Francisco, courtesy of a friend of ours who's offered us the sofa-bed in his cabin for the weekend.

LazyBear actually means quite a lot to me. I've been once before a couple of years ago on my own. I'd been out of a long-term relationship for about 6 months, and was still finding my feet and some self-confidence, when I forced myself to book up for it. I figured it'd do me some good. I then spent another 6 months trying to gear myself up for it mentally. And it did me the world of good. Everyone was so friendly and welcoming, and I had such a great time, that I'd changed fundamentally by the time I returned. I didn't hide in the corner of a bar anymore. I opened up and started talking to people, and that's when I met The Boyf.

So I'm looking forward to going back and showing The Boyf, and meeting up with some friends I made last time. No doubt I'll end up chasing around trying to keep The Boyf out of trouble, but that'll be half the fun. Only 7 weeks to go and I can't wait.

Normality Reigns

We're currently "off clubbing", which means that we actually remember what we did over the weekends. We also get to see daylight. Bonus!

It was The Boyf's Nan's 100th birthday at the weekend. She's had a colourful life, that one. I can totally see where The Boyf gets his genes from. She ran away to London when she was 16 and ended up dancing at the Folies Bergere. Got pregnant out of wedlock at an early age (not the done thing at all in those days), and was sexually active up until about 6 years ago (she had an affair with a 60 year old gardener - and she was 94! Go girl!). Anyway, it meant that we travelled up to the Midlands for another weekend to go to her party, and The Boyf decided to take me to Coventry for an afternoon as I'd never been before.

Coventry was a lovely town, by all reports. Very Shakespearean. This is a photo of what the town used to look like (this is one of few original buildings still remaining)...

However, during WWII Coventry was heavily bombed (many of the ammo makers were located in this region), and afterwards the town had to be rebuilt. It now looks like this...

Unsympathetically done, I'm sure you'll agree. Apparently it used to look even worse, but it's recently been modernised. The term "modernised" seems to mean something else entirely up north.

This is the remains of Coventry Cathedral, again destroyed by bombs in the war...

And this is what they built to replace it (the looming monstrosity in the background)...

If I were God I wouldn't be best pleased. Being decidedly non-religious I always find it perplexing yet wonderful that so many people spent so long building beautiful temples to God(s) who's existence is unproven. When I visit a beautiful church or cathedral I marvel at the workmanship and dedication, all in the name of a fictitious being. I applaud their dedication whilst deriding their conviction. The new Coventry Cathedral appears to have been slapped together from pre-fabricated chunks of concrete in a couple of weeks, much in the way a new McDonald's Drive-Thru can appear over a weekend. I think it shows the state of the Christian church when something that would have taken 10's of years to lovingly craft by hand is now just cobbled together. Speaks volumes. I have to say though that some of the details were quite interesting. The sheer size of the space is amazing, but Lord knows why they bothered making the ceiling so high up. It must be a right pain when they need to give it a slap of fresh wood-stain.

My favourite bit was the stained glass wall, although more glass and less concrete would have been better.

Pretty, isn't it?

I also liked the depiction of the Devil on the wall outside. He has quite a large penis, which made us giggle. He'd do well at The Hoist.

On the way out of the Cathedral a beggar was harassing some blue-rinsed women for change, allegedly for a coffee. They refused prompting him to shout "Not very Christian are you!". He looked at me. I looked at him. He said, glumly "You're not Christian, are you", to which I replied "No. We were just inside to make fun of the devout". I looked up at the Devil and decided to give the beggar some change. Hopefully he got drunk and had a good evening. The Christians wouldn't agree of course, but bringing the Devil out always seems like so much more fun...

(PS - sorry the photos aren't great - I took them with my phone)

A Break Down

The Boyf called a little while ago to say his car has broken down. Again. He can't get it to start. I didn't remind him that he was supposed to get it fixed originally months ago, and then said he was going to get it done last week whilst school was out. I wanted to remind him, cause frankly I'm getting bored with having to rummage about under the bonnet to create a temporary solution - even though I look totally hot doing so - or having to push the car to get it started - panting behind a car isn't such a good look on me (unless I'm bent over the boot being taken roughly from behind by a trucker. But that's a whole other story).

Anyway, The Boyf sounded stressed, and was going to be late for a meeting, so I figured I'd just keep my mouth shut.

Whilst I've been writing this he's just called again to say a recovery man has turned up who doesn't seem to know where anything is under the bonnet. He's diagnosed a dodgy fuel pump when it's just a jammed starter motor, but when The Boyf told him such the guy said "Yeah, it might be but I don't know where that is". Helpful.

In other news, I've still not worked out what the tampons are for.

The Monday Morning BlogBite - "20 Questions"

Has anyone ever played 20 Questions on line? It's here, and it's as dumb as a box of hair. It hasn't managed to guess anything I've thought of within 20 questions, probably because it asks questions which it should already know the answer to.

For example, I thought of Noel Edmonds in the TV section. I told it that I was a person, so it asked whether it was rated G. Er... Then it asked whether I was a daytime TV show. No, you stupid fucking thing, I've already told you I'm a person.

Incredibly it did guess Noel after 23 questions, but then told me which answers I'd incorrectly answered. It had asked me whether I was brave (?) and I'd said "Unknown", but apparently the computer knows best and in fact Noel IS brave.

The funny thing is that it gives a list of similar objects at the end. So, what's similar to Noel Edmonds you ask? Well, apparently Sir Trevor McDonald, Jamie Lynn Spears, Teletubbies, Christina Aguilera and Bob The Builder. Now there's a porno I'd like to see!

Update: I've just tried it on San Francisco. It asked whether I was in California, then whether I was in New York, then whether I was in the Northern Hemisphere, then whether I was in Russia. Aren't the last three questions negated by my yes answer to the first one? Oh, and it later asked whether I was a State, so I said "no", but at the end it told me I was wrong cause SF is a State. Utterly infuriating.

The Drug That Likes To Say...

At the weekend I'd managed to insinuate myself on a rather chunky little hairy guy, who became more and more intent on locking his lips with mine as the evening wore on. We ended up dancing whilst locked in an embrace, our hands pawing at each other's sweaty body, our lips kissing neck and shoulders and lips, our fervour and ardour growing more intense.

That is until he started making odd moaning noises. At first I thought he was simply being vocal about his enjoyment, moaning as I gently bit his neck, but the volume increased and seemed to be joined with a gurgling noise, at which point I realised I was having to take more and more of his weight, until suddenly he slumped in my arms.

I looked over his shoulder at The Boyf, who was stood behind with a grin on his face.

The Boyf: "You thought he was in the throes of ecstasy. In fact it was a G-fit"

OMO: "Harumph"

GHB is SO not a good look. Why do people do it?