Transformers,
Girls toys in disguise...
So, last night The Boyf and I, plus OurBestMates, went to a preview showing of Transformers at the new O2 Vue cinema at the Dome, where we mingled with rather alot of bears who were in the vicinty for the Scissor Sisters concert. I was once mistaken for BabyDaddy you know. It was in a bar in Birmingham (as unlikely as that is), and everyone seemed to be treating me very oddly. There was lots of whispering and furtive glances, and finally one of the barmen asked The Boyf whether I'd mind being pestered for my autograph. I've never gone out again in that red satin jumpsuit. In any case, it was a bit of a nightmare to accessorise with, and I couldn't wear underwear with it cause of the VPL, so going to the toilet when drunk was always a dangerous operation, what with that zipper.
So, Transformers then. I really rather liked it. Sure, I couldn't really discern any particular plot rather than goodie vs baddie (there was something about a Cube but it was never explored in too much detail lest it get in the way of the kick-ass action). Basically it boiled down to; Decepticons get Cube = Bad, Autobots get Cube = Good. Who cares about anything else, let the CGI begin!
Speaking of which, the CGI was very good. The robots seemed to have real weight to their movements and seemless integration into the shots, unlike Spiderman who always looks like he's been superimposed. Badly.
What else can I tell you? Well, it's actually quite funny in places, much more so than I would have imagined, some of the shakey camera work, although not a new idea, was surprisingly gritty and reminded me of "Children of Men", and the action is pretty relentless, as befits something with a flimsy plot and no real character development. But hey, we're not here to see "Notes On A Scandal". We want explosions, and we get them.
On the downside it's too long, as seems to be the way with everything this year. In particular the final action piece should have been cut down some, good though it is. Also, someone please tell me why the military, whilst being chased by the Decepticons, would decide to stage the final battle in the middle of a densely populated city, rather than staying in the desert? Oh yeah, it's because there's more chance for kick-ass CGI. Silly me.
All in all, I loved it. If you love Boys Toys, lots of explosions and don't feel like using your brain I thoroughly recommend it. OBM#2 and I are going to see it again, and that doesn't happen very often.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Double Standards
My weekends right now are rather quiet. We've been doing a fair bit in the gym recently, and staying in to save a few pennies, in preparation for LazyBear. I know the implication is that the bears with be lazy, but from experience I know this not to be the complete story. There's just as much preening and muscle-bear attitude as at a Leather Megawoof.
Or Miss World.
Of course, we got a little stir-crazy on Saturday night so ended up at XXL once more. We're still not sure why we go there, but it's close to home and there's always plenty of people we know to chat to. Last Saturday was no exception; I finally plucked up the courage to talk to one of the more beautiful men in London and his equally lovely partner, and finally found out where his exotic looks come from - he hails from Iraq. So we had an unusual discussion on the dancefloor revolving around Saddam and gay culture in the Middle East, during which he kept pulling me to him to make himself heard, causing little shivers up my spine with every touch. Sigh.
Now, I don't "do" darkrooms. I just prefer being able to see what's going in my mouth. Before you question my double-standards, I don't really "do" The Hoist either, I just go because I can stand at the bar and chat whilst certain people go a-roaming. Sure I join in from time to time, but I have to be in the right mood. Anyway, The Boyf had noticed a rather lovely fellow going in and out of the XXL darkroom, apparently unable to find someone to his requirements. So with a cry of "Start exercising your mouth" The Boyf grabbed me and dragged me in after him. Unfortunately we were too late; a friend of ours - Tattoo - had grabbed the lovely man and was pawing at him. The Boyf, not to be disuaded, leaned in and said to Tattoo "Your boyfriend's looking for you".
"Shit! Really? He can't find me in here!", said Tattoo and bolted for the door.
Mr Lovely turned to The Boyf and thanked him for interrupting - he'd not been too keen on Tattoo, as it turned out - and with that locked lips with The Boyf, paying me and my limbered up mouth no attention at all.
During this time a small Greek tried to force himself upon me, and I was just deciding whether to let him have his way when Mr Lovely suddenly came up for air, looked round, realised I was there too and with a "Hmmmm. Yum!" pushed me back against a wall and snogged my face off. Sometime later I ended up on my knees (as ever) and then the man came. After a bit more snogging he bid me farewell and left.
The Boyf was stood close by.
OMO: "Where were you?"
The Boyf: "I didn't get a look in. You were locked together. I had to make do with a small Greek chap..."
As we walked out of the darkroom we bumped into Mr Lovely getting his coat.
OMO: "Fancy coming back to ours for some more?"
Mr Lovely: "Sorry, I need to get home and get some sleep. I'm going to see Barbra Streisand tomorrow".
And with that he left.
"You know," I said to The Boyf, "he's just completely ruined my illusion. Although of course I'd like to see Barbra too. Anyway, that trick with Tattoo was rather mean".
"Yeah, especially since his boyfriend is down the end of the darkroom getting fucked by all and sundry".
Ah, double standards...
Or Miss World.
Of course, we got a little stir-crazy on Saturday night so ended up at XXL once more. We're still not sure why we go there, but it's close to home and there's always plenty of people we know to chat to. Last Saturday was no exception; I finally plucked up the courage to talk to one of the more beautiful men in London and his equally lovely partner, and finally found out where his exotic looks come from - he hails from Iraq. So we had an unusual discussion on the dancefloor revolving around Saddam and gay culture in the Middle East, during which he kept pulling me to him to make himself heard, causing little shivers up my spine with every touch. Sigh.
Now, I don't "do" darkrooms. I just prefer being able to see what's going in my mouth. Before you question my double-standards, I don't really "do" The Hoist either, I just go because I can stand at the bar and chat whilst certain people go a-roaming. Sure I join in from time to time, but I have to be in the right mood. Anyway, The Boyf had noticed a rather lovely fellow going in and out of the XXL darkroom, apparently unable to find someone to his requirements. So with a cry of "Start exercising your mouth" The Boyf grabbed me and dragged me in after him. Unfortunately we were too late; a friend of ours - Tattoo - had grabbed the lovely man and was pawing at him. The Boyf, not to be disuaded, leaned in and said to Tattoo "Your boyfriend's looking for you".
"Shit! Really? He can't find me in here!", said Tattoo and bolted for the door.
Mr Lovely turned to The Boyf and thanked him for interrupting - he'd not been too keen on Tattoo, as it turned out - and with that locked lips with The Boyf, paying me and my limbered up mouth no attention at all.
During this time a small Greek tried to force himself upon me, and I was just deciding whether to let him have his way when Mr Lovely suddenly came up for air, looked round, realised I was there too and with a "Hmmmm. Yum!" pushed me back against a wall and snogged my face off. Sometime later I ended up on my knees (as ever) and then the man came. After a bit more snogging he bid me farewell and left.
The Boyf was stood close by.
OMO: "Where were you?"
The Boyf: "I didn't get a look in. You were locked together. I had to make do with a small Greek chap..."
As we walked out of the darkroom we bumped into Mr Lovely getting his coat.
OMO: "Fancy coming back to ours for some more?"
Mr Lovely: "Sorry, I need to get home and get some sleep. I'm going to see Barbra Streisand tomorrow".
And with that he left.
"You know," I said to The Boyf, "he's just completely ruined my illusion. Although of course I'd like to see Barbra too. Anyway, that trick with Tattoo was rather mean".
"Yeah, especially since his boyfriend is down the end of the darkroom getting fucked by all and sundry".
Ah, double standards...
Thursday, July 19, 2007
A Night At The Beach
Friday night we went to the beach. I wasn't really dressed for it as I was still in my work clothes i.e. a suit.
You see, there's a fake beach in The O2 (which is what we're now supposed to call The Millenium Dome) made from 1,000 tons of sand and some fake palm trees. We'd gone over with a party of The Boyf's work colleagues, ostensibly to have a drink and a look around. However, as is usually the case with the girls from his work, they esconced themselves in the first bar they came to, rapidly got paraletic and refused to move. Hence after a couple of hours I was bored and managed to coax The Boyf away for a wander.
The O2 now houses a number of bars and restaurants, along with an 11 screen digital cinema and two concert venues. Quite how they've fitted it all in is beyond me, but I had a good look and it does indeed seem to all be in there.
Here's a picture of the inside of the entrance, complete with illuminated balls. Not sure why, but they're pretty so who cares.
And here's a (blurry, sorry (bloody camera phone)) picture of the beach, which we discovered on our travels and phoned The Drag Queen to come and have a look at. We then spent the next few hours drinking cocktails, building sandcastles, doing silly dances, and generally behaving like children whilst a DJ span the latest hip tunes from the hit-parade. Well, ok, he played "Umbrella".
After that we spent a short while laying on the floor in the chill-out lounge - a sort of blow-up igloo with mood lighting where you can plug headphones into sockets located in the floor and listen to relaxing music whilst you look at the changing colours on the walls. Or, as in my case, you get blasted with Gloria Estefan and leave in a hurry. Well, she'd urged me to get on my feet...
After this we found the karaoke machine and The Drag Queen managed to cajole a friend of hers in for a rendition of the suitably camp "I Will Survive", before we all dragged our carcasses out into the night and home, worn out from all the fun and laughter.
Just in case you're interested there are various activities available at the beach including volleyball and exercise classes. And twice a week they're going to show a classic movie on a big screen so you can lay on the sand with a drink and watch it. All good fun. It's only open til the end of August however, after which it'll make way for an ice rink which opens throughout the winter.
You see, there's a fake beach in The O2 (which is what we're now supposed to call The Millenium Dome) made from 1,000 tons of sand and some fake palm trees. We'd gone over with a party of The Boyf's work colleagues, ostensibly to have a drink and a look around. However, as is usually the case with the girls from his work, they esconced themselves in the first bar they came to, rapidly got paraletic and refused to move. Hence after a couple of hours I was bored and managed to coax The Boyf away for a wander.
The O2 now houses a number of bars and restaurants, along with an 11 screen digital cinema and two concert venues. Quite how they've fitted it all in is beyond me, but I had a good look and it does indeed seem to all be in there.
Here's a picture of the inside of the entrance, complete with illuminated balls. Not sure why, but they're pretty so who cares.
And here's a (blurry, sorry (bloody camera phone)) picture of the beach, which we discovered on our travels and phoned The Drag Queen to come and have a look at. We then spent the next few hours drinking cocktails, building sandcastles, doing silly dances, and generally behaving like children whilst a DJ span the latest hip tunes from the hit-parade. Well, ok, he played "Umbrella".
After that we spent a short while laying on the floor in the chill-out lounge - a sort of blow-up igloo with mood lighting where you can plug headphones into sockets located in the floor and listen to relaxing music whilst you look at the changing colours on the walls. Or, as in my case, you get blasted with Gloria Estefan and leave in a hurry. Well, she'd urged me to get on my feet...
After this we found the karaoke machine and The Drag Queen managed to cajole a friend of hers in for a rendition of the suitably camp "I Will Survive", before we all dragged our carcasses out into the night and home, worn out from all the fun and laughter.
Just in case you're interested there are various activities available at the beach including volleyball and exercise classes. And twice a week they're going to show a classic movie on a big screen so you can lay on the sand with a drink and watch it. All good fun. It's only open til the end of August however, after which it'll make way for an ice rink which opens throughout the winter.
Monday, July 16, 2007
The Monday Morning BlogBite - Science Exam
Good morning!
As is usually the case with me I'm going to steal someone else's good idea. But never let it be said that I don't give credit where it's due, so today I'm doffing my hat to The Farmboyz (once again) and bringing you an 8th Grade Science Test.
Obviously I wouldn't have said anything had I failed, but rather surprisingly I got an 80, which is a B-, so I thought I'd make a song and dance about it. Now all I need to do is find out how old 8th Grade equates to. If it turns out to be under 10 years old I may not feel so clever and this post will mysteriously disappear.
Have a go by clicking on the banner, above. Go on, knock yourself out...
As is usually the case with me I'm going to steal someone else's good idea. But never let it be said that I don't give credit where it's due, so today I'm doffing my hat to The Farmboyz (once again) and bringing you an 8th Grade Science Test.
Obviously I wouldn't have said anything had I failed, but rather surprisingly I got an 80, which is a B-, so I thought I'd make a song and dance about it. Now all I need to do is find out how old 8th Grade equates to. If it turns out to be under 10 years old I may not feel so clever and this post will mysteriously disappear.
Have a go by clicking on the banner, above. Go on, knock yourself out...
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
My Blog's Birthday
Today my Blog is 1 year old. As is usual with a toddler's birthday it seems more intent on playing with the box rather than the toy that was in it. I don't know why I bothered buying it a present at all - it's not been a particularly good Blog this year. Oh well, whatever, it's going to have a few friends round later and I've baked a cake.
You might have noticed that my Blog has been reasonably quiet of late. Quite frankly it needs to stay home long enough to actually write anything, the dirty trollop. Also, it's getting rather excited about the impending holiday to San Francisco, now that the hotel has been booked (finally).
So, Dear Reader, a big THANK YOU for reading this past year. I hope you've had as good a year as I have...
You might have noticed that my Blog has been reasonably quiet of late. Quite frankly it needs to stay home long enough to actually write anything, the dirty trollop. Also, it's getting rather excited about the impending holiday to San Francisco, now that the hotel has been booked (finally).
So, Dear Reader, a big THANK YOU for reading this past year. I hope you've had as good a year as I have...
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
London Pride...
... was a bit wet. In fact it was a lot wet. Having spent rather longer out drinking on Friday night than we wanted (til 4:30 am) we got up late, drank our traditional Pride bottle of champagne, and headed out into town somewhat later than we'd wanted to. It was lovely to see Trafalgar Square so busy considering the weather, and we spent time watching a couple of the acts and mingling with the very enthusiastic crowd.
One of the guests was Freema Agyeman, currently the Doctor's companion in "Dr Who", and we were lucky enough to be standing by the exit she used next to the stage. Needless to say The Boyf got very excited and grabbed her for a photo and she was as pleasant and charming as we'd been led to believe. Of course, I didn't want him hogging the limelight so moved in for my own photo.
Here is a photo of the strange juxtaposition of The Sheilas (from the Sheila's Wheels advert) alongside Nelson's Column. I'm sure Nelson would have approved of their rendition of "It's Raining Men" and then the song from their car insurance advert (!).
After that we toddled off to Old Compton Street to have a look around the street party and chat to a few friends, at which point the heavens opened sending everyone scurrying for cover. We decided to run up to The King's Arms and found it pleasantly busy, but with the rain still falling heavily we made up our minds to go home to watch the season finale of Dr Who rather than watching it on the big screen in Trafalgar Square. And good job we did too, as there was some sort of problem and it wasn't shown to the assembled throng.
All in all we had a good afternoon out, but it was a shame that the rain decided to spoil the party even though the threat of bombs hadn't.
Speaking of the bombs; we found out whilst there from a policeman we know that the second car bomb, which had been found in a police compound after being towed away from it's original parking place, was originally right outside "Halfway to Heaven", a popular gay bar just off Trafalgar Square. The police had decided not to release it's exact location for fear of spoiling Pride.
And that's it for our Prides this year as we're not going to any of the others around the country. The one we love the most - Brighton - is whilst we're in San Francisco. Did I tell you we're going to San Francisco...?
One of the guests was Freema Agyeman, currently the Doctor's companion in "Dr Who", and we were lucky enough to be standing by the exit she used next to the stage. Needless to say The Boyf got very excited and grabbed her for a photo and she was as pleasant and charming as we'd been led to believe. Of course, I didn't want him hogging the limelight so moved in for my own photo.
Here is a photo of the strange juxtaposition of The Sheilas (from the Sheila's Wheels advert) alongside Nelson's Column. I'm sure Nelson would have approved of their rendition of "It's Raining Men" and then the song from their car insurance advert (!).
After that we toddled off to Old Compton Street to have a look around the street party and chat to a few friends, at which point the heavens opened sending everyone scurrying for cover. We decided to run up to The King's Arms and found it pleasantly busy, but with the rain still falling heavily we made up our minds to go home to watch the season finale of Dr Who rather than watching it on the big screen in Trafalgar Square. And good job we did too, as there was some sort of problem and it wasn't shown to the assembled throng.
All in all we had a good afternoon out, but it was a shame that the rain decided to spoil the party even though the threat of bombs hadn't.
Speaking of the bombs; we found out whilst there from a policeman we know that the second car bomb, which had been found in a police compound after being towed away from it's original parking place, was originally right outside "Halfway to Heaven", a popular gay bar just off Trafalgar Square. The police had decided not to release it's exact location for fear of spoiling Pride.
And that's it for our Prides this year as we're not going to any of the others around the country. The one we love the most - Brighton - is whilst we're in San Francisco. Did I tell you we're going to San Francisco...?
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