Thursday, August 30, 2007

LazyBear: Pt.2

The rest of the weekend was spent either gawping at beautiful men, or trying to fend off unwanted admirers. Or just being drunk, as is the English way.

Our little bit of fun was going up to very well known porn stars and pretending we didn't know who they were, then asking what they did for a living. Only one admitted to being in porn, and he then gave us a free DVD. Result! The others worked as "models", "artists" or as "realtors", which sounds so much better than "estate agent". The conversations ran something like this one...

OMO: "So, what is it you do?"

PornStar: "Er.... I'm a, er, model"

OMO: "Oh, nice. You don't look like catwalk to me so I'm thinking glamour or catalogue. Actually, you look a bit familiar. Have you done Littlewoods?"

PornStar (looking confused): "Er... no, I don't think so"

OMO: "Oh well, maybe it was Argos. Anyway, nice to meet you"

So, we hung out, we got drunk on Mudslides, I took too much sun, got really bad sunburn and felt sick, and we chatted to lovely men. Speaking of which; just about everyone we spoke to was charming and friendly, completely unlike the hot guys in London who often won't give you the time of day. How very refreshing we found that. Elsewhere, people said "Hi" in the street, and everyone we came into contact with (barmen, shopkeepers etc) were always friendly. By contrast; on our return to the UK The Boyf and I went shopping for a new suit (for him). The shop assistant managed the whole transaction without actually speaking a single word, not even telling us the price. As we walked off I gave a cheery "Thank you!". I got "Hmmm" as a reply. Someone in the US said the whole friendly bartender thing was simply for the tips. Well, I don't care whether it's false or not, it just makes things more pleasant. And certainly the guys who said Hi in the street were only doing it to be friendly.

Oh, can someone please tell me why there are so many different types of milk in the US? And why does everything come in a "Maple Flavor" variety? Or has peanuts in it? Thanks.

On the Monday after LazyBear The Boyf and I, plus the thruple, packed up our cases, threw them in the enormous SUV and drove into Guerneville to say goodbye to a few friends. The town was rapidly being evacuated by the bears, as if it had finally run out of food and beer, so by the time we got to the Triple R resort the place was almost empty. Still, the DJ was playing, and there were a handful of people chatting, so The Boyf and I, plus one of the thruple (the English one), started on the mudslides again. At about 1pm we decided to leave for SF, and on the way out of town we stopped at a rather lovely vineyard - Korbel - where we met Barbara.

Barbara is a goddess. She works in the tasting room, and confronted by 3 Englishmen who were already drunk on mudslides she was charming and helpful, offering to let us taste anything we wanted. Little did she know that we secretly had a list of all the wines produced by Korbel, which we'd consult when she wasn't looking, and then ask whether she had "a nice fruity red" or an "oaky white", knowing full well that she did. Thus we managed to try just about every wine they had. Lucky for us that the other two members of the thruple weren't drinking, as we have no recollection of the rest of the trip to SF. On waking the next morning though I found that I'd bought two bottles of red "champagne", one bottle of white "champagne", and a bottle of port, so Barbara was cleverer than we thought.

Overall then a big "Thumbs Up" for LazyBear. The Boyf and I are already talking about doing it again, possibly next year, although we'll make sure we arrive earlier next time to shake off the jet lag before the fun commences and do some touring of the local, beautiful, countryside. Oh, and to visit Korbel again. Wanna join us?

And so, on to San Francisco...

Thursday, August 23, 2007

LazyBear: Pt.1

Hello?

Anybody still here?

Well, that was a busy few weeks. Since the last time I posted I've been to London Zoo, a christening, LazyBear, San Francisco, a wedding, and Soho Pride, in that order. So, what shall I tell you about first?

I may as well do the big one first; our holiday, and for starters, LazyBear.

LazyBear was alot of fun, although we were tired from our flight for the first couple of days. On the subject of our flight, please don't ever bother flying with British Airways. We got precious little for our hard earned dosh. The cabin crew smiled like sharks at us in, shhh, economy, and the food was awful. On the plus side we didn't die. Bonus.

Also, the entertainment system didn't work for the first three hours of the flight. There was a typically terse announcement from a stewerdess who said that the system would need re-booting and would take 20 minutes. After an hour we joked that she was probably in the hold somewhere trying to reconnect loads of cables, make-up and hair still immaculate even under a welders helmet.

After dealing with the BA cabin crew even the SF Immigration seemed friendly. Oh, also, when you arrive at SF International don't use the SuperShuttle to travel into the city. It takes bloody ages and doesn't cost that much less than a cab. Our driver got out to argue with someone, seemingly at random. My rudimentary Spanish suggests that it was about Mutya's new album, a turtle breeding programme in the Bahamas, and the long-term viability of hydrogen powered family transport. I think there was also something about a monkey on a bicycle, but I may have mis-translated the whole thing.

Anyway, back to LazyBear; for those of you who don't know what this is I guess I should explain. Every year bears from all around the world decend on a small resort town in Northern California, called Guerneville. It's set in beautiful countryside in Sonoma County on the Russian River. So about 5,000 bears turn up and turn the town into a weekend orgy of fur, beer and, well, sex. As it's a resort town most days are spent dividing time up between drinking by the pool and chatting, or drinking in the pool and chatting. Or having sex. The evenings are spent drunk in a bar or in the "club", a term I use loosely, where you ending up snogging someone you wouldn't normally just because you've had too much sun and it's made you feel queer(er). Or you go to the large campfire and takes turns either being too cold or having your hair singed, as there doesn't seem to be a happy medium. Whilst there you drink too much and make eyes at people through the flames. It would be awfully romantic were you not in a group of a couple of hundred slavering guys. There is also a constant stream of people going in and out of the bushes, but I'm not sure what was in there. Possibly some sort of shop, or more likely a StarBucks, as you can't fall over in the US without ending up with a Latte.

LazyBear generally seemed far more relaxing than last time I was there, perhaps because I had a partner with me this time. Yes, even though he's like a dog with two dicks most of the time. We were sharing a house with a thruple - a voracious man-eating open thruple - which was an experience. The fact that the house was a couple of miles outside of town limited the amount of men that tramped in and out, which I counted as a blessing, otherwise it would have been a constant procession of men with those three. Ha! Listen to me and my high moral standards...

And the "Easiest Shag Ever" award goes to:
It was Friday evening and The Boyf and I had decided to stay in and sleep off our jet lag so that we'd feel fine for the rest of the weekend (we'd arrived late on Thursday evening). So we're laying in bed whilst The Thruple prepare themselves for a night out, and then a guy arrives who's going to be staying in the house for a night on the sofa-bed. He's an ex of one of The Thruple. The Boyf and I could hear everyone chatting and then there's a knock on our door and this guy pokes his head round. We're introduced. He's cute. He sits on our bed and asks us about our flight, where we come from etc and then leaves us to our peace whilst he takes a shower and gets ready to go out for the evening. Except that between the shower and dressing he pops his head round our door again to see if we're still awake. He's naked. It's a good look on him. We invite him in and there is much sex. He leaves. And we didn't even have to get out of bed!