Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Which came first?

A chicken and an egg are in bed, chicken has its head on the pillow, smoking.

Egg rolls over, pissed off, saying, "I guess we answered that question."

Monday, January 30, 2006


A bit more about me...
Date and place of birth?3rd June 1972, Boscombe
Currently live?Edinburgh
Any siblings?Two brothers, two sisters, half of whom are cunts!
Favourite animal/s?Otters and seals
Do you have a crush on anyone, if so who? I do not have a crush on anyone
Who would you most like to meet, dead or alive?Edith Massey
If you were a fly on the wall, who would you spy on and why?A certain friend of mine who should remain nameless to see how many lies he's actually telling
Where would you most like to travel to?Anywhere on the equator
If you could live anywhere else, where would it be?Malta
Favourite colour?Lilac
Favouriite drink?Margarita
Favourite food?White pudding and chips
Hair colour?Brown
Length and style?Very short, cropped, #1 on the back and sides, #2 on top!
Eye colour?Brown
Anything else you would like to add?I'm fabulous.


18 carat garbage

What do you do when your mind's in a mess?

What do you do when you realise people have been lying to your face for a very long time?

What do you do when people say things, purposely knowing they're going to hurt you?

What do you do when you get out of someone's way in the fear that if you stay, they'll tell you to go - and then they say they don't want to be alone?

What do you do when you find out you've been used?

What do you do when you realise someone's only nice to you because of how other people will judge them if they're not?

I think you should go now
Because I just don't know how
You could make, then break a vow
Gun to my head - trigger - pow!

Sunday, January 29, 2006

Group action

Why is group sex so common and so popular with gay men?

Anyone know?

And why the desire to do it out in the open, in strange places like grave-yards and in public toilets?

Why are gay men so keen on having sex with strangers? Is it because they are gay? Or men? Or both?

Are men more animalistic, more carnal than women?

What about lesbians?

When I think about sex, I think about these words:

Dirty, arousing, cheating, blue, friend, wanking, used, bodily, carnal, debauched, rimming, delightful, epicurean, exciting, fleshly, heavy, hedonic, hot, hot stuff, irreligious, lascivious, lecherous, snog, turn-on, turn-off, lewd, kissing, libidinous, licentious, homosexual, bisexual, straight, lustful, moving, physical, liar, pleasing, pervy, randy, slut, raunchy, rough, sensuous, sexual, fucking, sexy, licking, sharpened, gang-bang, steamy, fingered, stimulating, cum, stirring, tactile, unchaste, nun, unspiritual, voluptuous, well-hung, boner, erection, oral, love...

What about you?

Thursday, January 26, 2006


Would you like me to be the cat?


German cannibal Armin Meiwes is suing Rammstein. The band dedicated their song "Mein Teil" to him, but Meiwes claims they used his story for a commercial purpose without his permission. Rammstein guitarist Richard Kruspe said he "was really interested to find out about why he would want to kill a man and eat him. What I figured out was that Meiwes' mother totally destroyed all kinds of relationships he had in his childhood. So, he felt that if he did this, his victim would stay with him forever."

Incidentally, Pet Shop Boys did some fabulous remixes of this song.


Happy Slapping is so 2005. To be too cool for school these days you have to do the Seagull.

In schools all over London, apparently, break-times are seeing boys running into the bogs to masturbate furiously, collect their jizz in the palms of their hands, then go out and find a younger kid.... then slap them in the face while shouting "SEAGULL!"

Try it in the office when you're bored.

Oh, the youth of today. In the old days, when I was young, we would play the biscuit game. We'd put a rich tea or digestive down on the floor and stand around it, wanking, the aim to cum all over the biscuit. The last one to cum had to eat the biscuit.

It was never me.

Joan and Jackie Collins news

Joan and Jackie Collins make use of a storage facility near Bristol to keep some of their vast pile of furniture and clothes. When you rent out storage, two keys are provided: one held by the warehouse and one held by yourself. Supposedly, your stuff cannot be unlocked without your key present. Not so: there is always another master key.

The Christmas Party at the warehouse last year had a tarts and vicars theme. Needless to say, the tarts' clothes were sourced from Joan and Jackie's storage space. The men who couldn't fit in Joan's clothes (Jackie's were rather larger) wore them suspended from coat-hangers draped over their heads.

Gay Liberal (yawn)

Just been looking at the news... I see another Liberal leadership candidate has come out. In the spirit of Little Britain, "As what?" I ask. Simon Hughes is like a cross between Dafydd and that MP who keeps making bizarre statements to explain himself when caught having sex with a man.

The fact that it comes across as a confession is quite profound, that it's something to be ashamed of. Of course, with dear old Simon, it's not all bad. He's not a complete pervert as he's had sex with women as well. Phew, that's alright then.

You know I'm never going to vote liberal again. I did once. What a mistake. Their fervour for fox hunting, their treatment of their previous leader and all this gay/bi sex nonsense is ridiculous.

Incidentally, look here for some great Mark Oaten memorabilia.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006


How come, whenever you've inadvertently left your flies undone, people point this fact out to you? It's not like you're cock's hanging out or anything is it!? If you leave the top button of your shirt undone, no-one says, "Your top button is undone," or if you don't button or zip your coat up, no-one ever points this fact out. So why go on about your flies? Is it a pseudo-Freudian slip, what they actually mean is they're glad your flies are undone, that they'd like to reach in and feel your dick? Is it? And why is the zip or the bottons on the front of trousers called flies? Why not wasps? I just don't understand. Help.


The above photographs were taken at my friend's funeral, about three years ago. You may notice a certain smokiness to them. The person who took the photographs did so with a digital camera. The smokiness was certainly not visible to the naked eye, though evident straight away on the screen of the camera. The first one looks like a dog, the last one looks like a face. I'm not sure about the middle one. What do you think?

Out of reach

All this seemed years ago to Colin, and indeed it was. His mind was in such turmoil, he couldn’t work out how many. Was it five or fifteen? Longer? Whatever had happened in the past had brought him here, to Dorchester and to the present. He was happy enough with a smoke and a cup of tea, out on the back porch. He threw the butt into a bucket of rainwater; it hit with a fizz, swallowed the last mouthful of tea and went into the kitchen. He took the dirty cup and a couple of soiled plates from the table; put the cup in the sink but dropped the plates with a clatter. He looked up and saw his reflection in the window. He began to cry.

He was on his own. No number of cigarettes, cigars or cups of tea could make him happy. There was only one thing that could make him happy and that was completely out of reach.

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Big Brother bust-up!

I've just been watching Celebrity Big Brother on Channel 4. They had a huge row. It was fabulous!

I'd like a row now, but sadly, there's no-one here to row with. If you fancy having a ding-dong with me, call me up or email me and we can exchange hateful abuse. I'll call you a whore and you can call me a slut, then you can call me a cunt and I'll call you a pig-fucker - and so on. Go on, you know you want to.

Monday, January 23, 2006


This week, according to iTunes, I have mostly been playing:

Petal (English Rose Pruned) - Wubble U
Future Lovers - Madonna
Rose Garden - Lynn Anderson
He Was A Friend Of Mine - Willie Nelson
No-one's Gonna Love You Like Me - Mary McBride


I found a white hair growing out of the side of my head today.

So I pulled it out.

What a fucking cunt!

I took a photo of it, but I've not bothered uploading it here as you can't actually see it!

See how honest I am, admitting to the wider world that I am going grey?

White hairs on my head, I can live with. If ever I see a white pube, I shall commit suicide.

Competition time

Under duress, I'm here to announce it's competition time.

Answer all five questions correctly and your details will go into a hat (well probably not a hat, but some large receptacle) from which I will pick a winner. Go on, enter, you know you want to. The winner will receive a High Street voucher.

Click on the wee envelope icon (email post) at the bottom of this entry to enter. I'll pick a winner on Wednesday, probably quite early on in the day.

1 Where was I born?
a) Bournemouth
b) Poole
c) Boscombe
d) Edinburgh

2 Which of these statements is true?
a) I do not have a spleen
b) I have an eight inch dick
c) I was kept alive for almost a year on ice cubes and slivers of mars bar
d) I am circumcised

3 What was the name of my first boyfriend?
a) Jack
b) Lee
c) Darren
d Colin

4 Which of these movies have I not seen?
a) Love Letter To Edie
b) Lust In The Dust
c) Multiple Maniacs
d) Pink Flamingos

5 Which of these tobacco products do I use?
a) Marlboro Lights
b) Silk Cut
c) Hamlet Miniatures
d) Café Creme

Good luck!

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Shocking Oatcake

My affair with Mark Oaten has been exposed by the tabloids. You can read about it all on the BBC News site. My youthful good looks and nubile body have obviously foxed everyone, though. They describe me as being twenty three years old, which, of course, is not true. I am twenty six.

Mark, or Oatcake as he had me call him was alright, but he was a bit rubbish in bed. It never lasted more than a minute and melting chocolate buttons in his bum-bum was not my idea of deep joy. Still the hundreds of pounds that he lavished on me every day made up for that along with the occasional box of Milk Tray. But he was tight. He ate most of the chocolates himself, saving only a few for me - and those with the soft centres didn't go in either of our mouths.

Oh, a joyous few months they might have been. But it's all over now... I remember how we met...

I'd just started renting. I was at a party in Crouch End. The stitching in his clothes must have been terrible because they all fell off at once! In his despair, he tripped whilst trying to escape from the glares of onlookers and accidentally landed on me, my dick impaling him in the anus. He turned to look at me and it was love at first sight. Accidental love, but love nonetheless.

Friday, January 20, 2006


You know that Summer's just around the corner when the girls start showing off their belly buttons.


Hungry? Fancy a lard sandwich? How about a nine square metre one?

Go to The Ukraine! They have a celebration of lard in their Salo Festival every year.

Organisers produced a massive sandwhich as the centrepiece of the festival. It had to be guarded by police after fears were raised that hungry Ukranians, mad for delicious lard, would devour it within minutes.

Traditionally, small slices of the white snack are eaten with black bread, garlic and vodka. And, more recently, there is even a chocolate-coated version. Mmm, yummy.

No wonder The Ukraine has one of the highest death rates from heart disease in Europe, the fat fucking cunts.

I can think of other white gloopy substances I'd rather eat before lard.

Cluedo - Big Brother Edition

To coincide with the latest edition of the hit reality show, Hasbro have just brought out a Celebrity Big Brother version of their hit board game: Cluedo - Big Brother Edition.

Whale seen in the Thames

BBC News are reporting that a Whale's been spotted in the Thames.

Are they sure? They say it swam up river and has "blown" - spouts of water have been seen.

Could it be that Michelle McManus simply went for a dip and farted?

Unintentionally sexual comic book covers

Look at this, it's hilarious:

Unintentionally sexual comic book covers

What people are asking this week

Courtesy of Popbitch:

Which Lib Dem wannabe leader used to be a regular visitor to a brothel in Paddington where he used to pay girls to shit in their knickers for him, and would then put the dirty pants in his briefcase and take them home?

Which TV actress had the school nickname "Avit up tha arse Amanda"?

Anyone know the answers?

Simon Hughes? Menzies Campbell? Amanda Holden?


FourDocs is a new broadband channel from Channel 4 where you can watch and review documentaries about, amongst other things, beards, sheep, kayaking and ping pong. Four minute films made by ordinary people, about anything:


Pete Burns naked

Ever wondered what Pete Burns looks like under that Gorilla fur coat? Wonder no more. Incidentally, now that the police have confiscated said coat, what will happen to Pete if it is really a Gorilla coat? Prison? Oh, Pete, no, don't drop the soap in those communal showers! On the other hand, no, drop it! Go on, you know you want to!

Pete's just plain fabulous. He has to win Celebrity Big Brother, he just has to. Also, I'm really fond of Dennis now. He's the real thing. Most of the other people in the house are fake, nasty, arrogant bastards. They guy I hate the most is Michael Barrymore. I didn't realize he was such a cunt.

Dr Hagens' assistant

Is Dr Gunter von Hagens' assistant hot or not? There is a poll running in which you can make your views known. It runs out on 20th February. You have until then to cast your vote.

Click here to take part.

I don't think there needs to be a poll on whether the doctor himself is hot or not. He's vile, ugly and his teeth freak me out. Also, why does he never take his hat off? Is he bald? Does he have a downstairs hairstyle like his living models? Does he shave the pubies off of the dead ones? All these questions and more need answers. Help!


The star of Autopsy: Life And Death has to be Dennis. What a fine specimen of a man.

I hope Dr Hagens doesn't have plans for him.

Why wasn't there a programme about cocks?

Old quim/young quim

I stayed up late last night to watch Autopsy: Life And Death on Channel 4.

It was vile.

The slicing up of bodies and Dr Gunther von Hagens delving into an old woman's body cavity were as nothing compared to the living female models he used.

The young woman troubled me. She'd shaved her quim. That's all very well and you may be asking what's wrong with that. Did her razor go blunt before she'd finished? She left a wee patch of hair at the top! Oh, I was so upset. Also, I had no idea that chuffs looked like that. It was kind of hanging, like pincers. Gross. I thought the organ itself was flush with the rest of the body!?

If the young woman troubled me, the old woman freaked me out. First of all, she looked like she'd been caught stood up in a crusher. She seemed to be squat on her hips, like she'd had six inches removed from her spine. And her boobs are indescribable. Just look at the photograph. I did, purely by accident, I might add, take a full frontal photograph of the two women. Do not doubt that I deleted it immediately.

More worrying than any of this was the fact that I seemed to recognise the old lady. A friend of my Mother's? A former neighbour? A relative? Oh, shit! Then it came to me. She's a porn star! Yes! She really is. My brother sent me an mpeg of her getting shagged by a fat man when I lived in Mortonhall. The old woman laid there taking it, the fat man chatting away...

"What's that you're saying there, honey?" he asked.
"Oh, it feels so good!" she replied.
"A little bit of pain, but kind of interesting," said the fat man.

Thursday, January 19, 2006

At the end of the day

I was just emailing Marlene... I found myself typing, "All part of life's rich tapestry." Oh, shit, how I hate that phrase and really object to people who say it, but I find myself saying it all the time! I also hate, "At the end of the day..." Really, one could simply omit this phrase from speech and text and it wouldn't make one jot of difference. I also hate the word "nice."

All these things have rubbed off on me from my old English teacher in
the 80s. He was something of a hero to me. He really got me interested in literature, writing, poetry and the arts. His name was Mr Valentine and I'll never forget him. He made me feel good about myself for thirty minutes each day.


There's a programme on BBC2 Scotland right now called Cuntass. I just wanted to share that with you. Sadly, there's nothing on the BBC website about it.


It's not rude, either, it's in Gaelic.

Such a disappointment.

More from the mountain...

Here's Heath Ledger in a scene from Brokeback Mountain. Click on it and it will get bigger. Oo-er.

I must say, he looks a lot different here than he does on the cover of Attitude magazine.

He's quite a chameleon.

This film had better win an Oscar.

Brokeback Mountain

I ordered the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack CD a few days ago from Play. It arrived this morning.

I've been playing it ever since the postman delivered it.

Even the music from the movie moves me to tears.

No film has ever had such a deep emotional impact upon me.

Set against the sweeping vistas of Wyoming and Texas, the film tells the story of two young men - a ranch-hand and a rodeo cowboy - who meet in the summer of 1963 and unexpectedly forge a lifelong connection; one whose complications, joys and tragedies provide a testament to the endurance and power of love.

Love may cause you all manner of grief and heartache. But it's worth it. By loving Ennis the way he did, Jack's life was something of a living hell. But he went on living it because it was worth it.

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


I feel so alone today.


I wish I could talk to someone, really talk to someone, and tell them exactly what's on my mind, you know, everything. Ever feel like that? I'd like to say the things I really want to say, without saying things that I believe people want to hear. Also, I'd like to talk without holding back, without leaving out the things that I think people will judge me on or lead people to think that I'm a bad person.

I could write it all here, but I can't. I'm afraid. I never will.

The postman, he delivers.

It's one of those days where my thoughts on what to write are fluctuating wildly.*

I've just been out for a walk and took some forms to Marlene to enable her to change GP. There was also a wee bottle to deliver into which one must piss. Fabulous.

I saw the postman when I was in the woods. He has a very fat Golden Retriever. It's called Jigsaw. Why do people give their dogs ridiculous names like that? I know my dogs have human names, and some people object to that, but at least they're sound. A while back, I heard a woman calling her dog on Blackford Hill. It's name was Tracy.

The news is just coming on (it's four o'clock). Perhaps this will give me some ideas...

Iran, Iraq, the girl who was raped and murdered in Thailand... It's all so dreadful. What's the world coming to?

People may moan about Tony Blair, but I'm glad he represents me on the world stage. It would just be simply awful if David Cameron became Prime Minister. I really hope that the Tories don't come to power after the next election, and there's a real concern that they will. Politics aside, I don't want someone with a tiny penis (and believe me, David's is tiny) to stand for Britain in the wider world. Perhaps he could go for plastic surgery? He has to do or have something to make him interesting. He could come out! No, no-one that dull, that plain, that bereft of style could ever be queer.

* I haven't a clue.

Link of the day

Interesting site:

Horny Gandhi


10 reasons why same sex partnerships are wrong:

Being gay is not natural. Decent people always reject unnatural things like spectacles, polyester, and air travel.

Same sex partnerships will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that being around tall people will make you tall and working in a fish market will make you produce fins and gills.

Legalizing same sex partnerships will open the door to all kinds of bizarre behaviour. People may even wish to marry people they love.

Straight marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are still transferable property, blacks still can't marry whites, and divorce is still illegal.

Straight marriage will be less meaningful now that same sex partnerships are allowed; the sanctity of Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage would be destroyed.

Straight marriages are valid because they usually produce children. Elderly and infertile people are already banned from marriage, so gay people should not be allowed to form a same sex partnership/gay marriage.

Obviously gay parents will produce gay children, since straight parents only bring up straight children.

Same sex partnerships are not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in the UK.

Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why we as a society expressly forbid single parents to bring up children.

Same sex partnerships will change the foundation of society; we could never adapt to new social norms. Just like we haven't adapted to cars, the service-sector economy, or longer life spans.

Fantasy dinner party

I've been reading Alan's blog. He asks who you'd love to have to a dinner party. My fantasy dinner party consists of the following:

Jackie Stallone
Gillian McKeith
The Duchess Of York
Grace Jones
Will Young
Rowan Williams
John Barrowman
Linda Blair
Mink Stole
Pete Burns

It would be fabulous. I'd tell Jackie to come early at seven thirty, the dinner party starting at eight. This, in fact, would be a lie. Everyone else would be coming at seven forty five. The others would turn up on time, looking through the window to find me on all fours, Jackie behind me, looking at my bum-bum. Shocked, they would all barge in and demand a look as well. I'd let them, making sure Will Young took his time over it. They'd all then be really curious and ask Jackie to look at their butts as well. This is just a lame excuse for all my guests to take their undies off. But it's bound to work.

Then, clothed only on our top halves, we'd sit at the table for dinner. I'd cheat and get a take-away. Gillian would start some dire rant at this point and people would throw blancmange at her. Everyone would laugh. Rowan Williams would attempt to lick the blancmange off of her face and tits. Gillian would like this very much and smear some on her chuff.

I'd be constantly filling my guests' glasses with champagne and we'd be incredibly drunk in no time. Rowan would have a draw on one of Jordan's spliffs and then fondle her breasts. I'd take photos of this act and sell them to the News Of The World for thousands of pounds.

The Duchess Of York and I would slope over to a corner and discuss frocks, drugs, booze, cocks, make-up and bitch about Madonna.

Grace Jones would be very jealous of Rowan's antics with Jordan by now and beat them both up. I'd take more photos and make more money from the tabloids.

Very drunk, Will Young and John Barrowman ask to spitroast me (not that they needed to be drunk, you know). I give my answer. It's a secret.

Pete Burns and Mink Stole perform scenes from various John Waters films. Our favourite is Mink playing Dottie Hinkle and Pete playing Beverly Sutphin from Serial Mom. Linda Blair feels upstaged by their swearing and bizarre antics so starts doing lines from The Exorcist. "Stick your cock up his fucking ass!" she yells. Will obeys.

No food has been eaten. After getting incredibly drunk and tripping on grass, everyone gets the munchies. We go into the kitchen to reheat the Chinese take-away, only to find Gillian ramming it down her scrawny neck like there's no tomorrow.

What a fabulous evening it was. Did I forget to mention that John Barrowman was constantly trying to finger me?

Minge runs away

I feel like running away.

The picture to the left is a self portrait. I did it on Bebo. I'm a member, but I never check in.

I'm such a useless cunt.

Filthy hetero stink shit!

I was so excited when Labour swept to power in 1997. I thought it was the dawning of a new golden age for Britain and for the world. I was even more excited when there was talk of a gay mafia in the government, in the cabinet and in Parliament.

Sadly, the chorus of the gays is now nothing but a whisper, when the only gay member of the cabinet is in the closet (she knows who she is). Being married (to a man) and having children does not preclude any woman from lesbianism. She needs to come out! And now!

Christ, there's even a gay in the shadow cabinet in the form of Alan Duncan!

Can't we have some prominent gays in government? Or at least some (or all) of them to turn queer? Wouldn't it be fabulous to see Tony Blair ditch Cherie for Geoff Hoon!? Wouldn't it be great to see Margaret Becket with a flat top (anything is an improvement upon that mess she sports as a hair style at the moment) and wearing a pair of Doctor Marten's?

Oh Tony, if you're not going to come out, get out and give the job to Gordon Brown, filthy hetero stink shit!


So, it's been revealved today that there was a plot by Fathers For Justice to kidnap the Prime Minister's son, Leo Blair.

Poor little chap.

Why has no-one ever threatened to kidnap me?

I wish someone would. Perhaps an animal rights group. After all, I am an animal and I have rights. I have a right to constant sex, champagne, Italian shoes, haute couture, pampering and Hamlet Miniatures on tap. I demand that someone kidnap me and demand these rights (for me) and not release me until all demands are met!

Kidnap me! Now!

Tuesday, January 17, 2006


Ever wondered if Will Young was well endowed or not?

Wonder no more.

Look at his photograph to the left.

Records and the 80s

This week, according to iTunes, I have mostly been playing:

1 Captain Nemo - Sarah Brightman
2 Call Me - Spagna
3 Look On The Floor (Hypnotic Tango) - Bananarama
4 Stop Crying Your Heart Out - Rowetta
5 Voyage Voyage - Desireless

I've just managed to get hold of the PSB Maxi Mix of Madonna's Sorry. I've played it twelve times today already.

As I type, I'm listening to I Love The Way by Bananarama.

I wish it was the 1980s again. Although we had a Conservative government, everything seemed to be better. Or does everyone say that when they get old and bitter?

The Mars bars were more substantial, people climbed the pop-charts (and a new entry at number one made the news), I was thin, I had hair, I had sex, I didn't get tired until 4 am, fashion was outrageous and no two people looked the same, Doctor Who was played by Colin Baker and you could still smoke on the top deck of the bus...!


Everyone's got a surname, but now a website which maps names against areas of the country where they are most common helps shed light on where our families come from.

Anyone can tap in their name and with the click of a mouse glimpse a profile of how others who share their name are distributed around the country.



Celebrity Big Brother

This year's surprise Celebrity Big Brother contestant has just been photographed entering the house!


I see in the news today that the government are cracking down on prostitutes.

What will Patricia Hewitt do of an evening?

I've heard that twiddling your thumbs can be quite dull.


I'm sat here freezing my tits off.

The plumbers came yesterday to replace the boiler. There was no heating last night apart from the crappy old gas fire in the living room. The rest of the house was like an ice box. I could see my breath coming up the stairs!

I went to bed at nine to keep warm. I had to wear my jumper!

I'd do star jumps, but I can't because I'm gay.

Monday, January 16, 2006

Cabinet Reshuffle

The press seems to be rife with speculation about a UK cabinet reshuffle and whether or not Ruth Kelly will keep her job. I don't think she should be ejected from the cabinet, I mean a closeted lesbian makes for interesting column inches, but I do think she should be moved. In fact, I think the whole cabinet should be reorganised to bring it bang up to date.

If I could pick the entire cabinet, this is what I'd do:

Top Bloke: Tony Blair
Keeper Of The Cash: Viv Nicholson
Abroad And Exotic Affairs:
Nancy Dell'Olio
Home (and sometimes away) Character: Emily Symons

Hot-shot For Outrageousness and Fabulousness: Pete Burns
Minister For Guns 'N' Shit (also known as the handbags-at-dawn department): Christopher Biggins
Chief Whip And Spanker: Charles Kennedy
Agent For Brain-Washing, Adding-Up And Books: Katie Price
Fashion Captain: Kylie Minogue
Main Bitch: Madonna
Deputy Bitch: Ruth Kelly
Minister For Trade: Ian McKellen
Food And Booze Guru: Jeni Barnet
Babe For A Laugh: Jackie Stallone
Minister For Hair: Rula Lenska
Minister For Fags: Joan Collins
Size Queen: Jeff Stryker
Femme De Fine Fettle: Billie Piper
Minister For Haughtiness: Neil Tennant

What a fabulous government they would make.

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Queen Mother Memorial

BBC News have announced that there's to be a tribute to the Queen Mother in London.

It's to be in the form of a competition and entries have to be in by the end of January. I've thought about entering myself. What do you think about this:

A giant six metre high gin bottle with Her late Majesty's face on it, made entirely of granite with the words "She knew how to gin and bear it" at the bottom on the plinth.

Do you think I'll get very far?

My favourite quote from the Queen Mother, who notoriously only employed gay men was this... After some kind of ceremony, she kicked off her shoes and said to her attendants, "I don't know about you, but this old queen could do with a gin and tonic."

I hate the Royals

The BBC are bastards. Look at their web site: I Love The Royals. I thought they had to be unbiased and balanced? So why isn't there a website called I Hate The Royals on the BBC?

An afternoon in the city

I had a fun time in the city this afternoon.

I should not have made that comment about farting near a policeman. Karma came to get me... I'd just got on the bus heading into town and was walking up the stairs to the upper deck behind an older gentleman. Wit
h him being three or so steps ahead of me, his bum was directly in my face when he did a huge fart. Vile little shit! He didn't say a word. It was loud and stank to high heaven.

I did everything I wanted to do, changed my slippers for a bigger size and a few other things besides.

On entering the St James Centre, I saw a woman who must have been s
eventy five wearing mountains of make up and dressed up like Britney Spears (or how the poor woman thinks Britney Spears dresses). It was hilarious and fabulous. I love seeing people like that and I'd never dream of dissing them. I'm glad there are people in the world who deliver a proverbial slap in the face to their peers and refuse to go along with the herd. You go girl!

On going
past a newsagent, I saw a headline in the local paper, the Edinburgh Evening News, that a local sweet shop which has traded for years and years is finally to close. My friend Peter often spoke of this place, but I never made it there. Now it's too late.

After I'd
done all I needed to do, I headed to Sainsbury's (I actually hate that store, but necessity forced me to go in) and bought a multi-pack of Hamlet Miniatures.

And so it
was time to go home for the bus. I hadn't whacked anyone on the arse with a broom nor farted near a policeman. Instead, someone had farted in my face, I'd seen a vision of Britney Spears in her twilight years and found the place I'd left too late to visit.

The bus was full of vile children, each one seeming to share an iPod - and most of them singing, about eight different songs all at once. The loudest to be heard was Shayne Ward's "That's My Goal." I don't ever want to hear that song again, unless it's a disco version sung by June Brown.


I'm just about to go into Edinburgh to do a few things. I feel like being a complete bitch. I'll report on my bitchiness when I get back. I feel like driving around the city with a broom and whacking people on the arse. I might even fart in close proximity to a policeman. "What a stink," I could say, and mean it, though the policeman may never know if I'm talking about him or my rare guff.

Mes chiennes

I went to see Marlene yesterday. She'd not been too well, but was feeling well enough to receive visitors.

I didn't take Meg and Mary because the walk to Marlene's house means walking through a field. My girls tend to get in a right state when it's muddy, so I left them at home.

It's a shame, because they seem to get on so well with Tinky, Marlene's Yorkshire Terrier. Her full name is Tinkerbell St Valentine II.

It was raining by the time I left for home, so decided to get the bus. I shan't bother in future. It takes ten minutes to walk to the bus and then another ten minutes to walk home once I alight the bus. A total of twenty minutes. It takes twenty minutes to walk there through the wood and field. I could have saved myself a quid.

Is this the most boring and tedious post I've ever submitted?

It was just an excuse to post a picture of Meg, Mary and Tinky.


The wee boy, who lives next door, has his bedroom next to mine. The walls must be paper-thin, the sound insulation in terrible.

I've heard them have rows, parties (like there's one going on in your own home) and all kinds of other things... Most arguments end up with the wife saying to her husband, "It's all because of your fucking Mother."

I am not in my bedroom, but on the other side of the house. For twenty minutes, now, the wee toddler has been crying and screaming, "Mama!"

If I can hear him, I'm sure his bloody Mother can. She should be ashamed of herself. If I was more brave, I'd go and say something to her - but I'm not. So I won't.

The poor wee kiddy.


What is Scarlet Johansson trying to tell us about Jonathan Rhys-Meyers?

“He’s a fantastic actor, intense, gorgeous and funny,” she said. “But I can say for sure I never had a passionate encounter with him. He’s a really sexy, brooding guy but he’s very gossipy. He likes shoes and it was like having a girlfriend on the set.”


So what is she saying?

That he's a raging poof?


Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Does the letter J have something to do with it...?

Is Jodie Marsh the new Jade Goodie? I was watching Celebrity Big Brother tonight and heard Jodie ask, "What is an egg? Is it a vegetable or a mineral?"

So now it's time for me to ask a question? What is Jodie Marsh? As thick as shit or playing some kind of game? Does she want people to think she's ditzy like Jade and then perhaps she'll carve a career out for herself in the same line as Jade?

I can't help but think, no, she's not ditzy. She's just not very bright. That doesn't make her a bad person, far from it, but she's a few slices short of a full loaf in my humble opinion.

My right foot

The photographs of my right foot finally sold on ebay tonight for the paltry sum of ninety nine pence. I could have got more money if I was prepared to dribble food stuffs all over them, but I'm not about to start prostituting myself!

What body part should I take photographs of to sell on ebay next? Hands? An ear? Knees? I simply refuse to photograph my bum-bum or bawbag. I would take a photo of my chest, but I'm not sure. Oh, to be honest, the very thought of a dirty old man sitting there playing with his gnarled old todger while looking at my body parts fills me with horror. I don't think I'll do it any more, not unless they make a solemn vow not to touch themselves inappropriately whilst viewing Minge.


I'm still not eating properly. I've lost over two stones since my operation. That's not a bad thing. I'm far from skeletal, but I want to stop losing weight now.

There are so few things I can eat. Today, I've had an individual Tiramisu at Marlene's house and a Marks & Spencer Turkish Delight when I came in. I don't think Gillian McKeith would be overjoyed at that.

I just can't eat raw sprouts and vegetable soups just now. I just can't. I had so much soup and so many parsnips in the early days after the op, I never want to see soup again, let alone eat it.

I don't want to gain weight, but I do want to stay the same. Would she forgive me for the occasional piece of chocolate and portion of tiramisu? I'm trying to get my five portions of fruit and veg in, honest. I drink more fruit juice than you can possibly imagine. Fruit juice must make you fart. It's been blowing a gale in here this afternoon, and the kind of gale you get when you live near a sewage works.

Brokeback Mountain

I really want to see Brokeback Mountain again. I can't seem to get it out of my mind. It's like one of those books that you read in one sitting, you start when you go to bed and finish with the sun coming up... Then you start reading again. Sadly, I can't get cinema on demand.

Look at my arse

Jackie Stallone can read your arse! Really, it's true. Look at her site: Rumps.

Jackie Stallone and Edith Massey

Celebrity Big Brother has been on my mind ever since its latest run began. It really is compulsive viewing. My favourite housemate last year, 2005, was Jackie Stallone. If ever John Waters needed a new muse since the death of my beloved Edith Massey, it's Jackie.

They are both fabulous creatures and genuine American Idols. I adore them both.

The first film I ever saw in which Edith Massey had a role was Female Trouble, also starring Divine and Mink Stole. I was blown away by the originality of the piece and how daring it was. It's disgusting, filthy, depraved, outrageous, hilarious and fabulous. Everyone needs to see this film.

Edith plays Aunt Ida who seems to be obsessed with her nephew Gator. She desperately wants him to be gay but he's hopelessly straight. Dawn, played by Divine, marries Gator and in Aunt Ida's eyes, this is unforgivable. The rest of the film plays out with Dawn trying to get famous and Ida getting revenge on Dawn for what she's done to Gator.

One of my favourite quotes from the film is this... On learning that Gator and Dawn have split up, Ida tries to pair him up with her gay friend, Ernie, "Oh Gater! Ernie's your type! Move in with me again, and we'll get you a job as a female impersonator!"

She is the opposite to every heterosexual homophobe. She hates straight people with a passion, declaring (to Dawn), "
Fucker! Pig fucker! Hetero! Filthy hetero stink-shit!"

The whole thing is fabulous and cult viewing. Once you've watched it once, you'll get a taste for it and want to watch it over and over and over and over and over again!

Oh, Mr Waters, please make a film with Jackie, please!

Fabulous Minge

I just did a search on "Fabulous Minge" on Google. The first thing is all about a woman trimming her bush! Look: Mediawhore. I can't believe I'm associated with such fabulous ramblings. My favourite line is:

Thanks to the fabulous Charlotte Dawson, minge is the hot topic on everyones lips these days.


This week, according to iTunes, I have been mostly listening to:

Call Me - Spagna
I Have Forgiven Jesus - Morrissey
Abwoon - Lisa Gerrard
Answerphone (Dance Remix) - XWiz
Try It (I'm In Love With A Married Man) - Oh Romeo
Fly On The Wings Of Love - Olsen Brothers
Don't You Pay Them No Mind - Nina Simone
Betrayed - Pet Shop Boys
Fix You - Coldplay
I've Never Been To Memphis - Billie Ray Martin

I don't think that admitting to much of that does my street cred any good. I'll try better over the next seven days. I might play some Girls Aloud, though I'll have to have the iMac on mute or I might end up killing myself.

Penis size

Penis size... Nine inches. Too much, too little or just right?


I've been trying to print off pay pal slips for the best part of an hour and have done three. Ebay keeps crashing. Bloody thing. I've just been reading how much money they make on Wikipedia. Billions of dollars! Surely it's time they cut their prices!? Tesco tell us they're always cutting their prices - and they still make a tidy profit. If they can do it, why can't ebay?

An hour or two in Tesco can be fun, one usually comes across some very interesting people. By that, I mean people that stink, shoplifters and men in women's clothing. I just love it.


So, it seems Celebrity Big Brother is off to a great start. There's already drama and contention. Pete Burns is wearing a coat which, so he says, is made from Gorilla fur. Personally, I doubt this is the case. As my pal David said, it doesn't look like it's been knocked up in the back streets of Cameroon. It's haute couture. I don't think they'd be using Gorilla skins in gay Paris. Or would they...!?

I'm certainly against anyone wearing fur of any description, but the wearing of fur is not illegal and he has every right to do so. Just as much as homosexuality isn't illegal, I have every right to be a poof. But, according to the news, Pete may be breaking the law for wearing the fur of an endangered animal. He could go to prison! Take it off, Pete! Prison is no place for a diva like you!

When the show began, I tried not to let anyone's pre-conceived ideas sway my views of anyone in the house, and I've tried my level best not to judge anyone. But really, Jodie Marsh is a thick twat. In the debate on fur, she asked why Eskimo people can't go to ordinary shops like us. Purlease. She's also constantly crying and complaining how the British press paint her as a dirty slut - and then tells the most vile and graphic stories of how she had the most outrageous kinds of sex with many different men and women, even posing in some quite ludicrous positions! There's nothing wrong in having a lot of sex, but please, don't say you're one thing and do another. Oh, and with your fee from the show, please, Jodie, get your nose fixed. You look like a hungry rat has been nibbling at it in the night.

Not a hero

I've just read on BBC News about a guy who claimed to have rescued two men from a burning aeroplane at Bournemouth airport. "Crash 'rescuer' admits fake story" is the headline. Aren't there some awful people in the world? Why did the guy make such claims?

I saw the mess this crash made of the perimeter fence when flying into Bournemouth airport from Prestwick, going to see my Mum. I knew it had happened and wondered what I'd see. It did fill me with dread, even before I saw it, especially when the aeroplane made such a terrible landing.

But still we continue to fly and are told it's the safest means of transport. It's cheap, too. If only the trains were less expensive. I quite like a ride with a nice Virgin.

Brokeback Mountain

I went to see Brokeback Mountain on Sunday. It touched me very deeply and is still pulling on my heart-strings. I began to cry not long into the film. By the end I was bawling my eyes out.

It's a very profound movie. Please see it if you can. I didn't have much of an idea what the film was about before going apart from my pal Rob telling me he came out of the cinema quite upset. The lead characters were played so beautifully, there has to be an Oscar in there somewhere.

The film plants seeds in your mind and stirs or awakens feelings and memories that most, if not all of us keep dormant. The blurb on the official site says that everyone has a Brokeback Mountain. I know I do. Do you? There are some lies that we have to tell but some truths we can't deny. I know we live in a completely different world from that in which Ennis and Jack lived in 1960s America. Some relationships had to live in the shadows because of bigotry, intolerance and hatred. Still, even today, some relationships have to be kept under wraps. Jack and Ennis lived their lives with a feeling that some things were inevitable and inescapable. They did the best they could. Some people are still doing that now because of the constraints of society or the needs and desires of others. That's why this film is timeless. You could set it at any time in history. People are having secret relationships now, they always have and always will - for a myriad of different reasons.

See the BBC review.

Of course, there's lots of comedy potential in this film and we should expect French and Saunders to send it up sometime soon. Personally, I'd like to see some kind of film like this made about my life. The title would be somewhat different: Bareback Mounting. Who would play me? It would have to be Ninia Benjamin. She's fabulous.

Ok, so you should now have three words. Take the first letter of the first word. If you're clever and know your alphabet, you'll get a number. Note it down. The next two words spell out a track by one of my favourite groups of all time. There is a number in the name of this group. Note it down. Now, in which year did Ralph Neves, the jockey, temporarily die? You only need the last two digits, note this number down.

Take your first number and add it to your second. Take each digit separately and add these digits together. You may or may not come up with a single digit number. If you still have two digits, take the two digits and add them together. If you still have more than one digit, keep adding them together until you have only one.

When you have one digit, add it to the year you got from the Ralph Neves story. You may now have one digit, you may have many. How ever many digits you have, this number means something to me. If you know what it means, make a comment on the "It" entry. Whosoever comes up with the correct answer first wins a fabulous prize and should feel rather wonderful about themselves!

Hurrah! I feel like Kate Bush.

You're here!


...digit. Multiply this by six and you'll have another number. There are other numbers: five, fourteen and twenty. You get a word. Note it down and keep reading the blog for more clues.