A very merry Christmas and a Gay new Year!

I spent all of Chrimble ill, yup sick. The pre-Christmas illness was a rather vicious headcold so I couldn't taste a thing and my vision went all funny, this taught me that chocolate isn't as nice if you can't taste it and that sprouts well they are about the same. I got some very gay shirts for Christmas, with matching socks from my mother, lilac is a hard colour to wear but I am looking forward to the challenge.

I had a brief interlude where I felt okay (which had the family shoot in it luckily) I wombled around the hills waving at pheasants and talking to rellies, it was lovely. For the evening meal I was sat on a table full of 'terribly suitably young ladies' half of whom had alice bands on. They were pleasant but rather dull, I mean dull as with out an edge at all. I had a few Great Aunts try and pair me off with a few of them and then I went home. It was nice but it seems the family are starting to get a bit worried about me...

After that I got gastric flu so I couldn't keep food down for about 3 days, this means I missed out on all the delicious variations on turkey post-Christmas and I lost a bit of weight. It was rather strange losing weight over Christmas, but I did grow a smashing beard.

I am back in London now, sans beard and typing before I go out on new years eve. I was going to stay in and watch telly in my pants (and there is still a chance I may) but S, whom I spent all of today with asked me to join her at the club she is working at.

Today was, as far as I had been told a visit to the Royal Academy of Arts (the exhibit on China) with 'the girls' - a load of very fun giggly girls who get that I am not actually gay and like the fact I can shop like at trooper etc. Anyway, it turned out to be just S and I, doing some shopping then some food then some more shopping and then some cocktails in Claridges. It felt very much like a date, which I think could be good, she is rather lovely and perhaps could change my opinion on blondes. One of her life goals is to have her bodyweight in underwear and she makes nipple tassels for a living, well more of a side-earner but what a fun one hey?

Anyway, I have decided that I am going to make Claridges one of my haunts, and now I must away to try out my new bath scent from Bliss before I get into my beautiful white linen suit with the lilac shirt + socks.

So I am going to see in 2006 dressed like a peacock and smelling a bit gay, just as things should be.

x

Today

I saw a giant mimsy because of work, some other things happened but when you see a foo-foo larger than you are everything else sort of gets forgotten.

Oh and I am going for lunch in a bit with a girl I like, and she likes me but she does have a boyfriend.

Notting Hill

Friday was a proper London adventure, by adventure I mean going to the pub with one group of people and leaving with another to go to a flat party for a chap you don't know.

I spent the whole time in a delightful drunken haze of cucumber martini's and white Russians it was like watching the evening in soft focus in the third person and the chap I was watching was having a wonderful time.

At some point much, much later on I sort of woke up from it all like diving through a wave of water. There was a girl sat on my lap and another one was sprawled across me like a sleeping cat. They were both feverishly applying make-up to my face pausing only to admire their handy work and then kiss me. On the otherside of the room I could see a chap trying to play a sad tune on a guitar with no strings. Another drink was pushed into my hand and I sipped on the vodka and tonic and looked at the debauchery happening around me. Every time I regained focus another drink was offered or another kiss, it was all rather intoxicating.

Thankfully after a while my homing instinct kicked in. I discovered that flagging down a cab while wearing lippy is a challenging affair. Clearly most cabbies are sexist bastards.

The rest of the weekend was spent in hiding trying to remove the make-up (I still have a bit of eyeliner on), followed by an extensive cleaning and cooking session. Which revealed that my cleaner appears to have stolen the frying pan, as well as the cheese grater, for what devilish motivations I just can't comprehend.

Ancient Egypt and Audrey Tautou's underwear

It was the work party last night, the head chap tried to find somewhere as kitsch as possible for our party so we ended up going to some vast tent thingy that had been decorated in the style of Ancient Egypt. It was gloriously tacky and fantastically hot, which I suppose is quite authentic but does make having a good boogie rather hard work. Still I got home at 1pm and I didn't snog anyone or anything, and I barely thought about being turned down by the party organiser as I was too busy drinking and talking to the fun girls about shoes and hair.

Today is a special day, I had some of my work printed in a magazine, only a tiny thing but it is there and that is what counts. I am going to have to stop shaving as I can call myself a troubled writer now and have interesting hair and smoke little cigars in Soho while talking about the pretences of modern life. I am also glad that my first bit of writing was about Audrey Tautou's pants.

I love Audrey, she is lovely and quirky and French. We would have lazy Saturday mornings reading the papers and feeding each other pastries, she would say something cutting about English fashion because she knows it annoys me and I would tickle her until she collapsed into giggles and relented. Then we would go for a walk along a beach with a slightly naughty dog before stopping in a tiny little tea-house for a cream tea.

Not so great news.

Well I found from one of my 'agents' (one of my vast army of female friends) that I am really not the party organiser's type, my apparent lack of mental prowess must have been just a bit too much. I must admit I had my concerns so I should have listened to them.

Still one must focus on the positives, I have truly a wonderful shirt on today and my choice of perfume is co-ordinating perfectly with the seasonal smells of mulled wine and spices.

It's gonna be a gay, gay christmas

My pre-crimbo detox is going well, last night I made a light salad of boiled winter vegatables and then splashed out on a baked potato afterwards. I must admit part of me felt a bit guilty about having a meal that didn't involve lard, wine or a dead animal.

Then I listened to christmas tunes danced around to them while doing the ironing, nights in are such a treat, especially at this time of year.

Today I need to shopping for a secret santa gift and a great big jumper so I can look like Wham did in the 'Last Christmas' video, because that is what Christmas is all about.

I fear that my 'humourous script' of that party organiser may get back to her, while sniggering at it my assistant saw it over my shoulder and demanded to see a copy. She knows the party organiser and sent it to some friends (because she thought it was funny). I still can't decide if the organiser seeing it is a good thing or not, so to be on the safe side I am going to turn my phone off and move to Uzbekistan.

Many girls in pants

Friday was great, Saturday was great, Sunday was great. It was all great.

Friday was a 'special party' for women who are happy to admit they like sex and like dressing up or something, what this means is a club full of girls in their pants, being outrageously flirty. I was sprayed gold and dressed as an angel (with two chums dressed the same) and these to things together are great. Great.

There was twister which had some marvelous moments, my friend T joined in when the board was full of supple lovelies but he found himself playing an entirely male game and his face was hovering awfully close to rather unpleasant places on other males, so he twisted his way to the edge of the board far away from them. More girls joined in at this point but apparently all the straining female flesh was a bit to much for him and he ended up slipping and dropping out of the game. Jolly good show though.

I got a lap dance for a female friend from the female lap dancer, I am still not entirely sure why. It was lovely to watch but also a little bit strange. Still the friend had delightfully Rosy cheeks by the end of it all.

We put lots of booze in our faces and the chaps talked to lots of girls, I did a bit of talking but all the new ones I talked to knew me already (but I didn't remember it from before) so I stopped doing that and just talked to female chums. The party organiser was there, looking stunning again but as she talks to me like I am a 'special needs' child I am not entirely sure how one progresses on from that to 'hey, lets get a drink'. She is marvelous though. Even if I do something ace for her (say get her a free pole dancing pole worth over £500) she treats me like a mong who just happened to find a key to save the world because it, was shiney and tasted of locks.
Sort of like this

Girl-'Oh no this nuclear station is going to explode in 30 seconds unless we can find the reprogramming unit'
Me - 'I say I just happen to have a reprogramming unit here, I picked it up earlier'
*hands unit over to girl*
Girl - 'What's that mungo? You have found something? Wow you found the unit, what are the odds of that? Oh bless you and your simple ways you must have picked it up because it was shiney.'
Me - 'Actually no, I thought there was a chance that the evil Dc McDoctor might destroy the unit as part of his plan so I took the liberty of bringing a spare'
Girl - 'Good Mongo, when we get back I will make sure you get some Jelly'
Me - 'I would much rather see you naked to be honest'
Girl - 'Yes Mongo, jelly with ice-cream'

And so on

On Saturday Scottish chap and I went to a rock pub we met up with L and did some great speed drinking. L was on form that night and after a speed-chinese we scampered onto a party for some of L's friends in Hampstead. I would like to live in Hampstead, but it would be terrible to get to work from there. Alas. Still we got jolly drunk and did silly things with wax. We all drew pictures of mustelids drinking and then talked about why girls were rubbish, with girls. I talked to a Swedish girl about differences in the sex lives of Swedish people and Britishers. Then we poored more wax on the table and broke a lighter, it was like being the bench of naughty people at the back of the physics lesson that think they are cool but are actually a bit spazzy. If we had been wearing matching ties they would have been tied in a funny way and possibly customised with tippex.

Sunday involved going to museums, learning about aliens and then drinking lots of ale in my local pub.

A brilliant weekend.

Today I went for lunch with the Scotch person and girls from the office, one of the girl is going to write me a reference as boyfriend material, that is the second girl to suggest that in a couple of weeks.
It is an improvement from being thought of as gay, maybe I should I start a new blog called 'I'm not mentally retarded' and just chronical my adventures with the marvelous party organiser instead.

'I would love to have phone sex with you'

I am sorry to say that this entry is not going to get as good as that title.

A very old friend (old as in ages ago rather then elderly) has come down from Scotchland to visit me and have a bit of a drinking session.

We went to my favourite local for lunch and a whole bunch of fun people from the office wombled along too. The conversation got very rude very quickly through the aid of mulled wine. I think they were trying to shock him by being extra naughty. It worked, some of the things they said made me feel positively unwell.

Anyway we had a lovely lunch, I got to stroke the pet ginger cat, all the best bars have cats in them, this one has three cats.

After the main course one of my work chum said very loudly.

'I would love to have phone sex with you'

In the context of the conversation it was less shocking but as per usual everyone else in the bar went quiet. Then we left (after a bit of cat interaction) and spent the whole walk home going on about how swingers are ugly.

Now My chum-from-Scotchland is currently striding around London trying to find suitable costume bits for the party tonight, which I think, will be jolly good fun.

Back on Form

My evening consisted of manly telly (TopGear, Dragons Den) and then I had an hour long bath and then gave myself a face pack, with cucumbers and everything. It was lovely, face packs are ace for two reasons.

1)When you peel them off it is like a giant bogie on your face, that smells nice. Or an unusual skin complaint but one you are supposed to pick at

2)They make your skin all soft afterwards.

Chaps not so confident in their sexuality should focus on the first point.

I have at least one supper arranged tonight, possibly two. One is with a set of very old friends who I haven't seen in ages. I also just found out I have a party tomorrow too, as well as the one on Friday. I am going to be so very, very broken.

Don't stop me now....

Friday was a night of drinking, or perhaps just an afternoon of drinking. The ancient spirit of booze was with me that day and I had a thirst that would have made Oliver Reed go

'oh steady on chap there is no need for double rounds.'

But their was, there was a great need. Although perhaps I should have paced myself a little bit more, as a result I was ruined by about 8pm.

Here is a photo of me at about 11pm, as you can see from the photo I have drunk so much I no-longer have a brain and I am living on animal instinct. Shortly after this photo was taken I fell over and then went home.

The next day I felt terrible, so terrible that I swore myself off drink for a while. Which lasted until the evening when I was at a party drinking J2o and I made the mistake of reading what was in them, after that I promptly switched to the champers, got ruined and ended up eating some tinsel to see if it tasted of sparkles.

I am at work now feeling awful and wondering if I can sneak home at lunch time and have a shower.

Yesterday I sort of accidentally asked out someone who does some work for us, this may not be a very good plan. We shall see.

Not a very gay weekend to be honest just a boozy one.

Sleep.

I haven't had a decent nights sleep in ages, and I just don't know why. I hear it is to do with stress, but apart from the fact my winter wardrobe needs a bit of work I don't have an awful lot to be stressed about.

I just had a super lunch of sausages and other lovely lunchy things. My cunning plan this evening is to go swimming so I can get all tired and thus get a good nights kip. Or failing that I am going to go to a support group for men with testicular cancer and hug Meatloaf.

Maybe I should form a Fight Club, what is that ace quote about bodies in it.

'A guy who came to Fight Club for the first time, his ass was a wad of cookie dough. After a few weeks, he was carved out of wood. '

Although I don't think I could manage the whole living conditions thing, call me fussy if you will but I need a decent bathroom and a hallway with-out rusty nails sticking out everywhere.