I'm very aware that I'm being totally crap with writing my blog at the moment, and I do apologise.
I have quite a little list of things to tell you about too. Let me see, there's...
1. San Francisco
2. How I hurt my arm
3. A Christening
4. A Wedding
5. London Zoo
Whilst I'm trying to compose the above topics into something readable, let me tell you about something little that happened last week.
We were doing a weekly shop the other day in a supermarket we don't often visit. On the way out a motorcycle courier was walking towards us in his leathers. Six feet tall, shaved head, goatee, sexy as fuck. The Boyf and I exchanged a glance, and as the guy walked past our eyes met, albeit briefly. We turned to check out his ass - like you do - and very nice it was too. He didn't turn round. No interest shown.
The next evening I was trawling the internet when I received a message on one of the better known bear chat sights. Yes, it was the courier asking whether it was me he'd passed in the supermarket, and telling me he had a package he'd like to deliver to me. Wink, wink.
And a very large package it was too...
I love this city.
Monday, September 17, 2007
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...
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!
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!
Friday, July 27, 2007
OMO At The Movies: "Transformers"
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.
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.
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...?
Friday, June 29, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
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"
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".
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
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...
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...
Monday, June 25, 2007
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.
Friday, June 22, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
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!
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!
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, June 18, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, June 11, 2007
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.
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.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
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)...
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)
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