Thursday, March 28, 2002

Well Easter is upon us, may all your Cadburys eggs be creamy.

We have a bit of a weekend ahead, if you are at Love Muscle, Trade or the RVT expect to see me in various states of disrepair.

See you all on the playing field…

Friday, March 22, 2002

I am officially in love with a known drug user. Who else thinks that Alain Baxter is the sweetest man on earth right now?

Thursday, March 21, 2002

Ho Hum I am bored…….

It’s that waiting for the new job to start, getting the old jobs loose ends tied up type of bored. And I hate it.

I have also had a pretty violent tearful Tuesday and weepy Wednesday, but that is of my own doing so can’t allow you all to feel sorry for me.

Exciting things that have happened this week so far…

My current boss Martin, of Andrew Martin commented “My God Rob, you are getting so thin, turn sideways and you would disappear.” Well the gym is working it would seem.

A real DJ and decks at the Gym last night, for a 3 hour set. I was well impressed. Only at Soho Clapham on a Wednesday though, can we please have Sean Sirrs next week.

Most of you who I have on my e-mail string have received the S.L.A.G.S Quilting Bee Spring Outing news. Yes we are off to see Taboo on Wednesday 10th (damn I will miss the DJ at Gym), my mate Sam has got us tickets for £17.50. From the Blogs, only Scally is coming so far. Come on boys.

Rite more before the weekend then…

Wednesday, March 20, 2002

Amusing e-mail recieved this morning...

There were 3 good arguments that Jesus was Black:

1. He called everyone "brother"

2. He liked Gospel

3. He couldn't get a fair trial.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Jewish:

1. He went into His Fathers business.

2. He lived at home until he was 33.

3. He was sure his Mother was a virgin and his mother was sure he was

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Italian:

1. He talked with his hands.

2. He had wine with every meal.

3. He used olive oil.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was a

1. He never cut his hair.

2. He walked around barefoot all the time.

3. He started a new religion.

But then there were 3 equally good arguments that Jesus was Irish:

1. He never got married.

2. He was always telling stories.

3. He loved green pastures.

But the most compelling evidence of all - 3 proofs that Jesus was a

1. He had to feed a crowd at a moment's notice when there was no food.

2. He kept trying to get a message across to a bunch of men who just
get it.

3. Even when he was dead, He had to get up because there was more work
for Him to do.


Monday, March 18, 2002

The weekend that was:

Friday was a quiet one, work, gym, home, bed. But with good cause because I was working on Saturday. I am one of the sicko’s that love working on a Saturday, coz it isn’t every week and always quite a social event. After work, I went home and we had a light dinner and prepared for Hope. The last few Hopes have been amazing and this one didn’t disappoint. We arrived really early to hear our mate Graham’s warm up set, it was wonderful.

We were joined by Karl and New Beau, Fireman Craig and Pete, Matthew, Richard, Andy and Alex. Also Tighe and Graham, John, Adam, Little John, The RVT’s rising singing star, Simon and Ross. It was a stonking evening and as usual we decided that it shouldn’t end there, so all rushed back to Little John’s for a chill-out, From there it was over to Adams for chill out part two and before I knew it, it was RVT time. Time flies when you hit the old cooking sherry.

Well, we couldn’t miss Marc Andrews just because we had had no sleep. Unfortunately, even though his tunes were funky, his mixing skills have gone to pot and I was quite pleased when Sean Sirrs took over. The usual crowd were in the house and the bloggers I remember are Ian, David and Marcus. Sorry to anyone else but I was not of sane mind. I was in luck though, my favourite “Prom King” Mike was on hand to support me and keep me upright(?) on the dance floor. Because he is such a big boy, nobody squeezes past him because they are scared of him and so I had an evening free of annoying people.

It all finally got to much at 11pm and we headed home, I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Feel like shit today, but it was all worth it.

Saturday, March 16, 2002

I have just read the QX and with great interest, the article about the Gay Film Festival. There is a movie about a legendry SA trannie called Granny Lee, or if you are from my generation, Mother Lee as we called her.

I first met her on my first trip to a gay venue and thought I should share the story with you…

I was in the army and had come to terms with my sexuality, all the gay boys in my platoon had taken pass at the same time and we headed up to Johannesburg (the BIG city), and I was to go to Decadance, which was the height of Gay clubbing at the time.

I remember standing in the queue in our finest 80’s new romantic outfits(oh! The shame), shitting myself coz I had no ides what to expect, did big scary older boys throw you over tables and have their way with you as an initiation? (whoops, that’s every Saturday night in London)

There was a commotion behind me and when I looked up, I was face to face with the scariest thing I had ever seen, about 100 years old, grey hair and wearing a black bin liner with holes cut out for arms, a white spangled belt, a HUGE Ascot type hat and with an entourage of very nice looking lads was Mother Lee, who said, “come with me darlink, I want to wank you off with my bum” before sweeping past me and bitching the doorman and anyone else in authority, disappeared into the club. I almost ran a mile, found a nice wife and settled down.

A very sad image that stays with me is later that night seeing Mother Lee, collapsed and crumpled in a corner, basically an old drunk.

Still! She was glamorous and part of my early gay life and I love the fact that a movie has been made to commemorate hers.

Tuesday, March 12, 2002

Big SORRY to Scally, I was in mid “brain dead” stage at the Vauxhall on Sunday when you said Hi. I am booking myself into Betty Ford right now, I won’t draw a blank again.