I never did tell you what I thought of New York and Ft Lauderdale did I? And I know you're terribly interested.
So, New York; in a word "repressed". Or perhaps "depressed". There's still a definite "should we really be having fun?" vibe hanging over the city, like the entire population feels guilty about something. Where are the clubs? The really banging bars?
We had the opportunity to visit a bath-house whilst in town, believe it or not for the sole purpose of having a shower (we'd been on the beach all day and didn't fancy schlepping out to Westchester to change before heading back into the city). Anyway, it was a good job we weren't feeling frisky, as we would have been put off by the "No Oral, No Anal, No Vaginal, No more than one person to a room" speech we were given, along with the various posters put up to remind us. I know it's all to satisfy local laws, but it certainly puts a dampener on the experience.
Just entering the place was an odd affair, involving having to put valuables in a safe deposit box, then putting the key to it in an envelope and having to sign for everything, in many different places. I believe the safe deposit box was then put into a safe which was lowered into a vat of boiling oil, and the whole lot suspended over a pit of poison-tipped spikes. Once we finally made it inside it was drab and quiet, like The Admiral Duncan on a week-night (but with even less sex and no opportunity to at least get drunk to spice things up). I have a feeling there was an entire floor closed off because there didn't appear to be a steam room, just rooms and showers, so perhaps our visit wasn't a good indication of the facilities, but still, it just wasn't up to English saunas (and that's coming from someone who’s not into the whole sauna thing).
There was one very sexy guy in attendance, and he was very interested, but we just weren't in the mood, so we showered and left in a hurry to find somewhere with some atmosphere. Unfortunately we happened upon The Gym Bar. Oh well, you can't win them all - the place seems totally devoid of any discernible character.
Perhaps we just need to spend some more time with some locals "going native" to get the best out of New York. I certainly like the city, in fact I like it more each time I visit, but there's this odd sanitised feeling. It's like London's younger and similarly wayward brother has found God and renounced it's sinful ways. It's lacking spunk.
Whilst we were in America the Democrat Convention was on, and we sat through Hillary and Bill Clinton, and Michelle and Barrack Obama's speeches on tv with our hosts (who got very into it). It was certainly interesting to see how intent everyone is about it in the USA. I must admit to finding much of the content of the speeches rather dumb and overly sentimental, and dare I say it laughable in places, but it seems that this is the way to win over Middle America, who don't seem to be able to make up their minds on who to vote for purely on policy. I just couldn't imagine Sarah Brown making an impassioned speech about Gordon in such a way - it just wouldn't work over here in the UK - it would be met with derision. Still, the current US election is entirely fascinating for us, much more so than at any time in the past it seems. I guess the rest of the world is waiting with baited breath praying that America does the right thing this time.
At that will be the last missive from OMO Towers concerning politics.
On a lighter note, we had to queue to get into Abercombie & Fitch!!! (Ah, back to the usual vacuous gay chatter). Yes, queue, for a whole 15 minutes. The Boyf made the comment that this would be the one and only time he'll ever queue to get into a shop, but I found it all rather amusing. In fact I find the whole A&F experience rather amusing, hence my willingness to queue. Once inside the place was dark and the music was pumping. And it wasn't anywhere near full. Apparently they make people queue to build interest. The assistants were dancing, and I mean REALLY dancing, not just jiggling. Do they really get paid to stand by clothes and dance all day in a strange half-light? Do you think A&F employees will evolve with extra joints to allow for better dancing, and with translucent skin and large eyes? Perhaps some of those light-emitting cells like deep sea fish to attract us to the polo shirts.
We tried to take a photo of them dancing but they wouldn't let us, so we surreptitiously videod them instead. We basically just ran about the shop giggling, and weren't really all that interested in the clothes, partly because we'd forgotten to take a torch with us and thus couldn't see anything, but I did see a polo shirt I quite liked, which turned out to be a completely different colour once I got it outside in the light. A&F thinks it's being fun and cool, in a totally false way, like someone's shouting at you to have a good time, and thus is unintentionally hysterical in spite of itself. I think there's irony in there somewhere…
Ah, so what else? Oh yeah, Ft Lauderdale is a bit dumb, bless it, and felt a tad provincial. It's Brighton with better weather and a prettier population, and thus has the same charms as Brighton with the added bonus of not having to wear a coat, gloves and a scarf on the beach. To own the truth I found the place slightly bland and soulless, but this was compensated by the (overly) friendly people we met. Certainly I'm going to visit again soon, but it's not somewhere I could ever envisage living. At least not until I win a lot of money and have extensive surgery. Or become an aging Jewess, which seems unlikely.
I have a feeling that this entire post disses the US, and I don't want it to. I love going to America. It's so much like home, but with those little surprise-and-delight differences. Until next year...
Monday, September 29, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Getting A Head
I had the good fortune, quite by coincidence, to meet a guy in a bar last week who was very high up in a foreign office of a well known company in the industry in which I work. And I mean VERY high up. Although he works for a different company to me we're intrinsically linked, and in fact it makes him my superior in certain respects. So meeting him in a bar was a bit of a surprise. What was more of a surprise was that he looks nothing like his photo on the internet, and now comes complete with a beard and a rather fit body. In short, he was a sexy little fucker, contrary to what I was expecting. Needless to say we hit it off and he ended up back at our house. HeHeHe. And what a dirty little bugger he turned out to be too. I shall never be able to go to one of his presentations again without blushing. Likewise he's banned me from any front rows/wearing anything slutty.
In other news, The Boyf is going away on a business trip in three weeks time, to Tucson, Arizona of all places. He's not looking forward to it. I am. He's not all that keen on flying, although he'd never let it stop him going anywhere. And obviously he's going to miss me and pine. He'll probably stop eating and his fur will fall out. Conversely I'm planning all sorts of stuff for that week. I'm having dinner parties, big club nights out, movies, museums, shopping, all sorts. It's to keep myself busy of course, otherwise I'd just sit at home in the dark with some gin. If I'm going to drink myself til I can't remember I might as well do it somewhere fabulous surrounded by beautiful people. I don't know how I'm going to cope, truly...
In other news, The Boyf is going away on a business trip in three weeks time, to Tucson, Arizona of all places. He's not looking forward to it. I am. He's not all that keen on flying, although he'd never let it stop him going anywhere. And obviously he's going to miss me and pine. He'll probably stop eating and his fur will fall out. Conversely I'm planning all sorts of stuff for that week. I'm having dinner parties, big club nights out, movies, museums, shopping, all sorts. It's to keep myself busy of course, otherwise I'd just sit at home in the dark with some gin. If I'm going to drink myself til I can't remember I might as well do it somewhere fabulous surrounded by beautiful people. I don't know how I'm going to cope, truly...
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Pink Flamingos
Sunday was "Gay Day" at London Zoo, an annual event where they force all the animals to bum each other for our enjoyment. I jest of course. It's actually an excuse to have some transvestites run about the zoo dressed as air stewardesses (no idea why) and have a gay brass band perform loads of cliched gay anthems (they were playing "Dancing Queen" as we wandered by). And of course you can't have lots of gays in one place without there being a ridiculous amount of cruising, this time in an unlikely environment such as in the reptile house or whilst watching the Pygmy Hippo have its lunch.
It turned out to be a lovely sunny day, so a little group of us (10 in all) descended on the zoo to gawp, stare and point, and to also have a look at the animals. Boom boom. It actually wasn't as gay as we thought it might be, and there was a definite lack of hotties to cruise. But who cares, the zoo gave good animal and we were thoroughly entertained by the meerkats, giant anteaters and the otters.
Afterwards, as ever, we ended up at the RVT for a dance where I was rapidly set upon by a hot Spanish tourist who was incredibly forward (which I like - but only when they're sexy, obviously) and seemed to have a thing for my fair hair and beard. I wasn't complaining. He was actually a real sweetheart and I wanted to keep him, but The Boyf wouldn't let me. He's such a kill-joy sometimes.
It turned out to be a lovely sunny day, so a little group of us (10 in all) descended on the zoo to gawp, stare and point, and to also have a look at the animals. Boom boom. It actually wasn't as gay as we thought it might be, and there was a definite lack of hotties to cruise. But who cares, the zoo gave good animal and we were thoroughly entertained by the meerkats, giant anteaters and the otters.
Afterwards, as ever, we ended up at the RVT for a dance where I was rapidly set upon by a hot Spanish tourist who was incredibly forward (which I like - but only when they're sexy, obviously) and seemed to have a thing for my fair hair and beard. I wasn't complaining. He was actually a real sweetheart and I wanted to keep him, but The Boyf wouldn't let me. He's such a kill-joy sometimes.
Friday, September 12, 2008
OMO's Gig Review - Madonna's "Sticky & Sweet" Tour
A great concert, spoilt only by the absolute shambles that was Wembley's Security and The London Underground. For a start, Security told the back of a very long queue that they could move to the gates before they bothered telling those of us that had waited for hours, thus allowing those who had literally been waiting only minutes to get to the front of the queue and thus causing a stampede from those who had been patiently waiting all day and who were now missing out.
Then London Underground saw fit to close Wembley Park Tube Station at 12:00am with at least half of the audience still trying to make their way home (after the concert had over-run). Result; tens of thousands of irate people causing a near riot to try to get to cabs and buses. And of course none of the buses actually go anywhere near Central London. We ended up walking in a completely random direction - having no idea which way was home but just wanting to get out of the crowds - and finally came across a stop for a bus which went to Oxford Circus. A 40 minute bus ride, then a £20 cab ride later and we were home - at 2:40am!
And I won't even begin to tell you about the girl in front of us at the concert who got drunk and decided to start a fight with everyone around her. She eventually got thrown out (just before Madonna took to the stage), much to our relief, but not before she'd kicked, spat and punched everyone around her - except me, who for some reason she kept away from. She even called The Boyf "fat arse", which I found rather amusing as he doesn't really have much of a backside at all. I always joke that it's been worn away but he doesn't find it funny.
Anyway, on with the show…
Madge was 35 minutes late to start, which we decided had something to do with her trying to get the last few drops of blood out of the sacrificial virgins. Either that or she was having trouble emptying her colostomy bag.
Finally a parcel trolley was wheeled onto the stage complete with Her Madgeness, hands secured behind her back to stop her clawing at the audience with her talons, and with a mask over her face to stop her biting us (and hopefully to stop her trying to sing).
OK, I made that bit up.
She actually appeared in the centre of the stage on a throne, dressed in some old bling, and over the course of 2 hours firmly made the point that at 50 she's certainly not past it.
Rather obviously she concentrated on the current album (I won't bore you here with a withering attack on it, suffice to say that I know it's already going to win my "Worst Album Of The Year" award), but actually some of the new songs worked better live than they do on record. Sprinkled in were a fair selection of older songs, all of which were re-interpreted in some way. So we had rockier versions of "Human Nature", "Into The Groove", "Hung Up" and "Borderline", and mash-ups of "Vogue/4 Minutes", "Music/Put Your Hands Up For Detroit" and "Like A Prayer/Feels Like Home", the latter by Meck, which itself blatently steals the riff from "Don't You Want My Love" by Felix. All worked very well I thought.
What also worked remarkably well was the Romanian Folk Music segment, which sounds like an abomination we could well do without but was actually one of the best parts of the show, being full of energy and excitement.
Her Madgeness ended the concert with "4 Minutes" (this time sans "Vogue") and then a seriously danced-up version of "Give It To Me", thankfully without the comedy production of the original. (I'm pretty sure Pharrell actually gave this song to a group of 5 year olds to produce in Music Class, and has been pissing himself every time he hears it since).
Ok, I need to get something off my chest about "4 Minutes". So, Timbaland and Madonna are in the studio writing this song and deciding on the concept (you just know Madonna has concepts for her songs). So the concept is "There's only 4 minutes left to save the world" and in the video there can be a timer counting down from 04:00. Brilliant! So the song's 4 minutes long? No, it's 4 minutes and 3 seconds. Er, couldn't someone just tell Justin Timberlake to shut up for 3 seconds and end the song on time? Apparently that would make too much sense.
Other points to note; Madonna can actually sing. Who knew? Whereas Kylie has a thin, whiney voice she can at least hit all her notes. With Madonna you're always perpetually nervous that she's going to go for a high note and miss, with disasterous, ear-shattering results. But not this time. Oddly, it was the low notes she was struggling with, which made "Ray Of Light" an unusual experience, with it's low drone and sudden piercing chorus. One can only assume that, clearly being a cyborg, she's had her voice synthesizer altered to help with her upper range.
There are only two negatives I can really throw at it. Firstly the sound in Wembley was awful. And I mean, REALLY awful. It's just not a good venue for concerts. Secondly, as with this type of artist we're left with an empty stage as they do a costume change, and as usual this saps the energy and kills any momentum. I thought Madonna's were worse than normal, as she rarely had much going on on stage, preferring to leave it to playing a video of her singing a song on the big screens (which apparently weren't big enough to be seen from the back of Wembley).
All in all though a great show (and I haven't even mentioned the sets, the dancers (one of whom was hot-Hot-HOT) and Britney Spears on the video screen). Madonna can rest easy in her coffin each day knowing she's thoroughly entertained us.
Update:
Apparently at last count 3,000 people had complained to Live Nation about the sound and the terrible organisation, particularly with the concert over-running and causing difficulty for people trying to get home. We've heard that some people had to sleep on the street until the Underground started up again in the morning. Shameful.
Then London Underground saw fit to close Wembley Park Tube Station at 12:00am with at least half of the audience still trying to make their way home (after the concert had over-run). Result; tens of thousands of irate people causing a near riot to try to get to cabs and buses. And of course none of the buses actually go anywhere near Central London. We ended up walking in a completely random direction - having no idea which way was home but just wanting to get out of the crowds - and finally came across a stop for a bus which went to Oxford Circus. A 40 minute bus ride, then a £20 cab ride later and we were home - at 2:40am!
And I won't even begin to tell you about the girl in front of us at the concert who got drunk and decided to start a fight with everyone around her. She eventually got thrown out (just before Madonna took to the stage), much to our relief, but not before she'd kicked, spat and punched everyone around her - except me, who for some reason she kept away from. She even called The Boyf "fat arse", which I found rather amusing as he doesn't really have much of a backside at all. I always joke that it's been worn away but he doesn't find it funny.
Anyway, on with the show…
Madge was 35 minutes late to start, which we decided had something to do with her trying to get the last few drops of blood out of the sacrificial virgins. Either that or she was having trouble emptying her colostomy bag.
Finally a parcel trolley was wheeled onto the stage complete with Her Madgeness, hands secured behind her back to stop her clawing at the audience with her talons, and with a mask over her face to stop her biting us (and hopefully to stop her trying to sing).
OK, I made that bit up.
She actually appeared in the centre of the stage on a throne, dressed in some old bling, and over the course of 2 hours firmly made the point that at 50 she's certainly not past it.
Rather obviously she concentrated on the current album (I won't bore you here with a withering attack on it, suffice to say that I know it's already going to win my "Worst Album Of The Year" award), but actually some of the new songs worked better live than they do on record. Sprinkled in were a fair selection of older songs, all of which were re-interpreted in some way. So we had rockier versions of "Human Nature", "Into The Groove", "Hung Up" and "Borderline", and mash-ups of "Vogue/4 Minutes", "Music/Put Your Hands Up For Detroit" and "Like A Prayer/Feels Like Home", the latter by Meck, which itself blatently steals the riff from "Don't You Want My Love" by Felix. All worked very well I thought.
What also worked remarkably well was the Romanian Folk Music segment, which sounds like an abomination we could well do without but was actually one of the best parts of the show, being full of energy and excitement.
Her Madgeness ended the concert with "4 Minutes" (this time sans "Vogue") and then a seriously danced-up version of "Give It To Me", thankfully without the comedy production of the original. (I'm pretty sure Pharrell actually gave this song to a group of 5 year olds to produce in Music Class, and has been pissing himself every time he hears it since).
Ok, I need to get something off my chest about "4 Minutes". So, Timbaland and Madonna are in the studio writing this song and deciding on the concept (you just know Madonna has concepts for her songs). So the concept is "There's only 4 minutes left to save the world" and in the video there can be a timer counting down from 04:00. Brilliant! So the song's 4 minutes long? No, it's 4 minutes and 3 seconds. Er, couldn't someone just tell Justin Timberlake to shut up for 3 seconds and end the song on time? Apparently that would make too much sense.
Other points to note; Madonna can actually sing. Who knew? Whereas Kylie has a thin, whiney voice she can at least hit all her notes. With Madonna you're always perpetually nervous that she's going to go for a high note and miss, with disasterous, ear-shattering results. But not this time. Oddly, it was the low notes she was struggling with, which made "Ray Of Light" an unusual experience, with it's low drone and sudden piercing chorus. One can only assume that, clearly being a cyborg, she's had her voice synthesizer altered to help with her upper range.
There are only two negatives I can really throw at it. Firstly the sound in Wembley was awful. And I mean, REALLY awful. It's just not a good venue for concerts. Secondly, as with this type of artist we're left with an empty stage as they do a costume change, and as usual this saps the energy and kills any momentum. I thought Madonna's were worse than normal, as she rarely had much going on on stage, preferring to leave it to playing a video of her singing a song on the big screens (which apparently weren't big enough to be seen from the back of Wembley).
All in all though a great show (and I haven't even mentioned the sets, the dancers (one of whom was hot-Hot-HOT) and Britney Spears on the video screen). Madonna can rest easy in her coffin each day knowing she's thoroughly entertained us.
Update:
Apparently at last count 3,000 people had complained to Live Nation about the sound and the terrible organisation, particularly with the concert over-running and causing difficulty for people trying to get home. We've heard that some people had to sleep on the street until the Underground started up again in the morning. Shameful.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A Conversation With The Boss
3.53pm. 10th September 2008. The Office
The Boss: "Where did you get that shirt?"
OMO: "In the 21st Century, unlike that jacket you're wearing"
The Boss: "You know I wouldn't wear a fitted shirt if I were you"
OMO: "It's not a fitted shirt"
The Boss: "You mean it's supposed to be baggy but you're so fat it looks tight?"
OMO: "Dammit, you win this time. But well done on your first bit of catty gay banter. At this rate you'll be out by Christmas"
The Boss: "Where did you get that shirt?"
OMO: "In the 21st Century, unlike that jacket you're wearing"
The Boss: "You know I wouldn't wear a fitted shirt if I were you"
OMO: "It's not a fitted shirt"
The Boss: "You mean it's supposed to be baggy but you're so fat it looks tight?"
OMO: "Dammit, you win this time. But well done on your first bit of catty gay banter. At this rate you'll be out by Christmas"
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Our Holiday Pt.2 - New York
We actually stayed outside of NYC itself, in Westchester with friends of ours, pretty much in the middle of nowhere. The nearest town was about 5 miles away and their house is surrounded by woods and fields. It made for a lovey, relaxing setting, and many days were spent in the hammock in the garden reading and listening to music, or wandering about trying to find wildlife/identify the different species of birds and butterflies. I know, civilised aren't we?
Obviously we ventured into the city on regular occasions, using the train into Grand Central, and did lots of the usual touristy stuff i.e. took a boat trip round Liberty Island and to see the waterfalls, walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, wandered around the Botanical Gardens, and took a trip out to Coney Island to go on the Cyclone (truly terrifying - has anyone actually checked any of it since it opened?)
We also had a day out at Sandy Hook, rather obviously a gay nudist beach, which involved a 40 minute boat ride and transfer to the beach by school bus (yay! I've been in an American school bus!). As lovely as it was (I'm still peeling, to prove how nice the weather was) the clientele left something to be desired. Where Haulover was "hottie" this was "grotty". However a couple of guys in their early 50's arrived and pitched up next to us, and were both quite lovely (and hairy), and The Boyf in particular took a shine to one of them. Unusually he came over all English and refused to start a conversation with them, and is now complaining that he'll never get to know who they were.
The English shyness stuck me too, but then it always does. On the Sunday we found ourselves in The Dugout watching the closing ceremony of the Beijing Olympics over the heads of Joe.My.God and The Farmboyz (both Father Tony and C). Now, I'm a big fan of both blogs, but obviously couldn't speak to any of the people involved because I'm terribly English and didn't want to interrupt them. Instead I was waiting until I'd had a few drinks so I could slur at them and tell them I loved them. But before it got to that stage we de-camped to the Eagle. Still I couldn't summon up the courage to speak to anyone (they'd moved to the Eagle too). And then they left and the chance was missed, although on the way out, as they passed me, C said "Yes, we're leaving", evidently knowing that I'd wanted to speak by my body language (and the fact that I was probably staring). Anyway, I can at least confirm that Joe, Tony and C do really exist and that I found at least two of them completely do-able. I'll leave you to make up your minds which two.
More about NY later.
Obviously we ventured into the city on regular occasions, using the train into Grand Central, and did lots of the usual touristy stuff i.e. took a boat trip round Liberty Island and to see the waterfalls, walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, wandered around the Botanical Gardens, and took a trip out to Coney Island to go on the Cyclone (truly terrifying - has anyone actually checked any of it since it opened?)
We also had a day out at Sandy Hook, rather obviously a gay nudist beach, which involved a 40 minute boat ride and transfer to the beach by school bus (yay! I've been in an American school bus!). As lovely as it was (I'm still peeling, to prove how nice the weather was) the clientele left something to be desired. Where Haulover was "hottie" this was "grotty". However a couple of guys in their early 50's arrived and pitched up next to us, and were both quite lovely (and hairy), and The Boyf in particular took a shine to one of them. Unusually he came over all English and refused to start a conversation with them, and is now complaining that he'll never get to know who they were.
The English shyness stuck me too, but then it always does. On the Sunday we found ourselves in The Dugout watching the closing ceremony of the Beijing Olympics over the heads of Joe.My.God and The Farmboyz (both Father Tony and C). Now, I'm a big fan of both blogs, but obviously couldn't speak to any of the people involved because I'm terribly English and didn't want to interrupt them. Instead I was waiting until I'd had a few drinks so I could slur at them and tell them I loved them. But before it got to that stage we de-camped to the Eagle. Still I couldn't summon up the courage to speak to anyone (they'd moved to the Eagle too). And then they left and the chance was missed, although on the way out, as they passed me, C said "Yes, we're leaving", evidently knowing that I'd wanted to speak by my body language (and the fact that I was probably staring). Anyway, I can at least confirm that Joe, Tony and C do really exist and that I found at least two of them completely do-able. I'll leave you to make up your minds which two.
More about NY later.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Our Holiday Pt.1 - Florida
So, on with the holiday shenanigans.
We started our hols in New York, but only for one night before moving on to Fort Lauderdale for a long weekend. Actually, we were based in Wilton Manors, which will come to no surprise to anyone that's been there. Quite why it's not been renamed Gayville is quite beyond me. Perhaps Bender Heights - it has more of a ring to it, if you'll pardon the pun.
The first thing that stuck me, almost literally, was the humidity. You can actually bite the air, although you look like a fool doing it. Imagine spending the entire day in the hothouse at Kew Gardens and you start to understand what it's like. The entire visit comprised of mad dashes between air-conditioned cars, air-conditioned shops, air-conditioned homes, air-conditioned restaurants - you get the idea. For someone with over-excitable sweat glands it's not a good look.
We had a big Friday night out on the day we arrived and got ridiculously drunk. However, I did get to spend the entire evening with a lovely and very sexy Venezuelan from Miami who I'd chatted to on the internet, and who somehow managed to politely deal with me getting more and more wankered as the evening went on, and then messaged me the next day to tell me how much he enjoyed my company. Aw!
On Saturday we went to Miami, like you do. After having a lovely Cuban meal (pork chops, natch) we ventured down to Miami Beach to have a wander about and generally sweat too much and get sunburned. I liked Miami and have decided I'm going to buy something small on Star Island. Like postage stamp size, judging by the house prices. To be truthful though it has actually crossed my mind to buy a little "condo" in Miami. What with the exchange rate and the US house market softening we could buy a little place and use it as an escape, whilst letting it out occasionally for people on holiday to help pay for it. It's an idea I'm going to be giving some thought to. I've already started putting all my coppers in a jar and reckon I'll have enough for something nice come Christmas.
On Sunday we got up early and ventured into the Everglades, where we had an airboat tour and looked for alligators. I've ALWAYS wanted to have a go in an airboat - you know, they're those things that resemble pieces of corrugated iron with a fan strapped to the back - and wasn't disappointed. I was disappointed at the distinct lack of alligator action however, as we only saw one baby. We did see turtles, a raccoon and loads of vultures though, plus a rather cute fisherman.
Afterwards we headed to Haulover beach, which is like Brighton beach only with sun, sand and attractive people. Oh, and with water you can get in which isn't so cold it makes your testicles retract back inside. Once there I spent the afternoon looking at American pee-pees (it's nudist, I wasn't just lingering in the "rest-rooms") and trying to work out the percentage of cut to uncut. My conclusion - if you have a foreskin, flaunt it. In fact, the guy on the next towel had a very big foreskin, which was being pulled on by some locals. That’s the problem you see - Americans don't know what to do with them, so they just pull on them or put their tongue in them as if they're some sort of exotic fruit. Oh well, if it keeps them quiet.
Later on Sunday we went to "Steel", which is like G.A.Y. but with more facial hair. I mean, it's trying to be a bit butch, but the big burly guys bouncing up and down to "Kung Fu Fighting" kinda spoils the image. And singing along to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" wasn't helping either. There were a couple of hotties in da houz tho - er, sorry about that - and I'd nearly managed to drag one into a dark corner to be devoured when his slightly irate boyfriend showed up to snatch him from my web. Back on the prowl I managed to corner - in my drunken stupor - a rather lovely chap with a thick beard who I was soon leaving with in his truck (result - an American with a big beard and a truck!) along with The Boyf who seemed rather perplexed at the speed of events.
Once back at Beardy's The Boyf promptly fell asleep leaving me to keep the British end up. And lots of fun it was too. He was certainly one of the sexiest guys I've ever slept with, we've kept in contact, and I shall be seeing him again someday.
On Monday the heavens opened, what with Hurricane Fay laying some way off the coast, so we spent a day shopping and mentally preparing for a flight to New York which didn't look like it was going to be pleasant. We actually had to fly through an electrical storm, which was both interesting and terrifying in equal amounts.
And so, late on Monday night, we found ourselves back in New York...
We started our hols in New York, but only for one night before moving on to Fort Lauderdale for a long weekend. Actually, we were based in Wilton Manors, which will come to no surprise to anyone that's been there. Quite why it's not been renamed Gayville is quite beyond me. Perhaps Bender Heights - it has more of a ring to it, if you'll pardon the pun.
The first thing that stuck me, almost literally, was the humidity. You can actually bite the air, although you look like a fool doing it. Imagine spending the entire day in the hothouse at Kew Gardens and you start to understand what it's like. The entire visit comprised of mad dashes between air-conditioned cars, air-conditioned shops, air-conditioned homes, air-conditioned restaurants - you get the idea. For someone with over-excitable sweat glands it's not a good look.
We had a big Friday night out on the day we arrived and got ridiculously drunk. However, I did get to spend the entire evening with a lovely and very sexy Venezuelan from Miami who I'd chatted to on the internet, and who somehow managed to politely deal with me getting more and more wankered as the evening went on, and then messaged me the next day to tell me how much he enjoyed my company. Aw!
On Saturday we went to Miami, like you do. After having a lovely Cuban meal (pork chops, natch) we ventured down to Miami Beach to have a wander about and generally sweat too much and get sunburned. I liked Miami and have decided I'm going to buy something small on Star Island. Like postage stamp size, judging by the house prices. To be truthful though it has actually crossed my mind to buy a little "condo" in Miami. What with the exchange rate and the US house market softening we could buy a little place and use it as an escape, whilst letting it out occasionally for people on holiday to help pay for it. It's an idea I'm going to be giving some thought to. I've already started putting all my coppers in a jar and reckon I'll have enough for something nice come Christmas.
On Sunday we got up early and ventured into the Everglades, where we had an airboat tour and looked for alligators. I've ALWAYS wanted to have a go in an airboat - you know, they're those things that resemble pieces of corrugated iron with a fan strapped to the back - and wasn't disappointed. I was disappointed at the distinct lack of alligator action however, as we only saw one baby. We did see turtles, a raccoon and loads of vultures though, plus a rather cute fisherman.
Afterwards we headed to Haulover beach, which is like Brighton beach only with sun, sand and attractive people. Oh, and with water you can get in which isn't so cold it makes your testicles retract back inside. Once there I spent the afternoon looking at American pee-pees (it's nudist, I wasn't just lingering in the "rest-rooms") and trying to work out the percentage of cut to uncut. My conclusion - if you have a foreskin, flaunt it. In fact, the guy on the next towel had a very big foreskin, which was being pulled on by some locals. That’s the problem you see - Americans don't know what to do with them, so they just pull on them or put their tongue in them as if they're some sort of exotic fruit. Oh well, if it keeps them quiet.
Later on Sunday we went to "Steel", which is like G.A.Y. but with more facial hair. I mean, it's trying to be a bit butch, but the big burly guys bouncing up and down to "Kung Fu Fighting" kinda spoils the image. And singing along to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" wasn't helping either. There were a couple of hotties in da houz tho - er, sorry about that - and I'd nearly managed to drag one into a dark corner to be devoured when his slightly irate boyfriend showed up to snatch him from my web. Back on the prowl I managed to corner - in my drunken stupor - a rather lovely chap with a thick beard who I was soon leaving with in his truck (result - an American with a big beard and a truck!) along with The Boyf who seemed rather perplexed at the speed of events.
Once back at Beardy's The Boyf promptly fell asleep leaving me to keep the British end up. And lots of fun it was too. He was certainly one of the sexiest guys I've ever slept with, we've kept in contact, and I shall be seeing him again someday.
On Monday the heavens opened, what with Hurricane Fay laying some way off the coast, so we spent a day shopping and mentally preparing for a flight to New York which didn't look like it was going to be pleasant. We actually had to fly through an electrical storm, which was both interesting and terrifying in equal amounts.
And so, late on Monday night, we found ourselves back in New York...
Monday, September 01, 2008
I'm Back!
Morning!
So, I'm back from my holiday and I'm feeling a little… odd. Haven't slept very well since getting back, which is partly jet-lag and partly self-inflicted (we went to Tonka when we got back on Friday, then to XXL on Saturday, then spent Sunday in bed with a trick we picked up).
I'll be filling you in on all the details of our hols over the coming week, along with my ever-insightful thoughts on the USA that we discovered on this trip. You know me, I'm always full of original information; remember I went to France and declared that the French smoke too much and drive badly. Yes, it's that level of insightfulness. Is "insightfulness" a real word?
Anyway, lots of work to be getting on with so please just chat amongst yourselves for a bit and I'll be back with something to read shortly-ish.
So, I'm back from my holiday and I'm feeling a little… odd. Haven't slept very well since getting back, which is partly jet-lag and partly self-inflicted (we went to Tonka when we got back on Friday, then to XXL on Saturday, then spent Sunday in bed with a trick we picked up).
I'll be filling you in on all the details of our hols over the coming week, along with my ever-insightful thoughts on the USA that we discovered on this trip. You know me, I'm always full of original information; remember I went to France and declared that the French smoke too much and drive badly. Yes, it's that level of insightfulness. Is "insightfulness" a real word?
Anyway, lots of work to be getting on with so please just chat amongst yourselves for a bit and I'll be back with something to read shortly-ish.
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