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I've just been listening to one of my idols, Nina Simone. iTunes loves to pump out Ain't Got No/I Got Life at high volume. I was thinking about the words...
If ever you think tou've got nothing, pinch yourself. You've got yourself. I think this is what Nina really meant with life. You've got yourself. You may have no food in the larder, no-one who loves you or no friends, but you've always got yourself. You should always be your own number one fan:
I ain't got no home, ain't got no shoes Ain't got no money, ain't got no class Ain't got no skirts, ain't got no sweater Ain't got no perfume, ain't got no bed Ain't got no mind Ain't got no mother, ain't got no culture Ain't got no friends, ain't got no schooling Ain't got no love, ain't got no name Ain't got no ticket, ain't got no token Ain't got no God And what have I got? Why am I alive anyway? Yeah, what have I got Nobody can take away? Got my hair, Got my head Got my brains, Got my ears Got my eyes, Got my nose Got my mouth, I got my smile I got my tongue, Got my chin Got my neck, Got my boobs Got my heart, Got my soul Got my back, I got my sex I got my arms, Got my hands Got my fingers, Got my legs Got my feet, Got my toes Got my liver, Got my blood I've got life, I've got my freedom I've got life I've got life And I'm gonna keep it I've got life And nobody's gonna take it away I've got the life
This is a before and after photograph of Michael Jackson. I think it's kind of fabulous. Would you like to meet yourself as a child? I would, I'd say, "You're a nice boy and quite fabulous."
What would you say to yourself?
If I was a woman, I'd change my forename to Lady and my surname to Garden. I think that such a name would be fabulous.
This is a (bad) photograph of me in my back garden. I'm currently sporting a goatee, though I feel I am about to shave it off. I think it makes me look old and haggard.
This is the house where I live in Edinburgh.
The window at the top left is my bedroom. The window to the right is the wee room where I am now, typing this. Below it is my front door, to the left of that is the living room window.
What do you think of the hedge? Should we keep it? I kind of like the arch. Not sure. It will take a lot of up-keep.
That's my car at the very front. It's clean, for a change.
I fancy a Margarita.
It's a very gay drink, especially for a man. It's not really a gay drink for a woman, is it. That would be a pint.
I just might have one... A Margarita, that is, not a pint. I've never drunk a pint in my entire life.
Oh, stop, I don't have any of the ingredients. Here's a vow. Next time I go out, I shall have a Margarita.
Some years ago, I was so close to saying, "My usual," at The Queens Hotel (yes, it was a gay bar) and receiving a Margarita. Those days are long gone, and I don't miss them, but they're a good memory. Still, a sip of a fabulous Margarita could be a good reminder. I'm hankering after the past today, but not sure why.
Yay! It's that time again! The contenders for Making Your Mind Up have just been announced:
Anthony Costa Kym Marsh Four Story City Chix Daz Sampson Goran Kay
Click here for the list of the contestants! You can also listen to thirty seconds of each song. To be frank, I'm not terribly impressed. The only one that really stands out is Daz Sampson, but it's really not my thing.
I think it's time we sent Sonia again.
Goran Kay might appeal to the gays, but he's singing about a girl, so perhaps not. The gays will definitely like Anthony Costa. He's a hunk! The song's not bad, but it does sound like it's come off of a production line. City Chix!?!? The song is worse than the soap opera they star in, River City - and that's really saying something. I expect most of Scotland will be voting for them, so they might be in with a wee chance. Everybody hates Kym Marsh, so there's no chance of her going through, thank the lord. Four Story are just a bland boy-band. We've seen it all before. Although it's really not that good, I think we have to send Daz. He's our only hope.
Wasn't Sinitta available?
I've agreed to being interviewed by my wee Dutch boy, The March Hare. To be frank, I asked him to do it. He was interviewed by his cousin, Canagal. In agreeing to be interviewed, he had to agree to invite others to be interviewed as well. I have to agree to the same. If you want to be interveiwed, please ask, I'll probe you, extensively. Of course, in turn, you must agree to offer an interview to readers of your blog. So come on, ask me! I'm dying to get going! This is all done in order for us all to get to know one another better. Let's see if it works. Here's the interview with Minge:
1. Your profile says that escaping reality is your main interest. However, your blog is filled up to the brim with sharp observations of the real world around you. How do you deal with this contradiction?
Life's full of contradictions, it really is. I escape reality at any given moment and as often as possible, since life is, to be honest, quite shitty, at the best of times, and I think most people can relate to that. My blog may well be full of observations of the real world. I cannot escape from that. It's the world I live in, but it's also a world I long to escape from. I realise, though, that this isn't exactly healthy, so I endeavour to live in the real world, and without actually wanting to, be a real part of it. I could easily fill my blog with imagination, ramblings, desires and pure fantasy, but I could not justify that to myself, the man who longs for an alternative reality yet who must live in the real and physical world of 2006. I'd feel I was cheating in some way. There are one or two posts of pure fantasy, thus far, but only one or two. I try to shield myself from the temptation of fantasy, a paradox, I think, since this is also some kind of escapism, to escape from a world I desire to live in to the world in which I actually inhabit. I'd hate to be normal and ordinary, but there is a sense of morbid fascination there, and I do glimpse behind the veil that separates me from the real world from time to time and comment on what I see. My fantasies are not necessarily a private thing, but I feel that filling my blog with them would send me deeper into fantasy and further away from reality and that this would be detremental to by state of being. Although I hate the real world, I have no option but to live in it and make the best of it, so I do. I do not ignore it, though I long to. I am here in this turmoil of mediocrity and here I must stay.
2. You seem to have either loads of inspiration, or loads of time for blogging. So what is it that you actually do for a living, and a second part of the question: when is your birthday?
I'll answer the first part of the question first. My birthday is the third of June. I was born in 1972.
This vile world does inspire me, it really does. I'm amazed by it, every hour of every day. Also, I do have loads of time for blogging. I do not go to work. It's a long story and I shall try to recount the condensed version.
Since leaving the world of education, I worked for various companies, largely in the financial sector, two of which were Post Office Counters Limited and a Building Society. In both jobs, I was the victim (I hate that word) of some three armed robberies. They took their toll: depression, PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) et al. In the early days, I didn't leave my bedroom for a very long time and didn't leave the house at all for a good six months. I'm a lot better today than I was then, but I still have difficulties in coping with certain social situations, especially meeting strangers. I have this awful fear that anyone I don't know may be planning or plotting something terrible. It's not like complete insanity, it's just a flash more than a prolonged thought, but it's there nonetheless. Therefore, I prefer to be at home and feel safe. I'm constantly in a state of fear, sometimes mild, sometimes accute, though I don't actually know what I'm afraid of. I can't explain it. Life is scary. I think the trigger for it was this: After the first armed robbery, people said to me, "Oh well, lightning doesn't strike in the same place twice. It won't happen again." But it did. Sure, lightning didn't strike in the same place twice - I was in a different job, a different part of town, but struck I was. Life is full of risks, but by and large, they're not risks I'm prepared to take. A good friend of mine told me the other day that I was very confident. I don't feel it. I think it's an act. If I appear to be shy, timid or unsure, I'll appear to be weak or different and, perhaps an easier target. I don't know... Perhaps this is a load of old rubbish.
3. Originally you're from Darzet (a so called Darzatian I presume?), but you live way up north in wee beautiful Scotland. How do you cope with that, and a second part of the question: what are - to your opinion - the five greatest differences between the Scottish and the English? And a third part of the question: have you really, actually eaten Haggis once?
Yes, I'm a Dorset boy - and I love that word Darzatian. I think I'll start using it to describe myself! Living here in Edinburgh is easy to cope with. I've never felt more at home in any other city in the world. What's not so easy is being almost five hundred miles away from my dear Mother, my favourite woman in the whole wide world. I try and see her as much as possible, but it's not easy. The weather here in the south east of Scotland isn't an awful lot different to Dorset, but a difference there is nonetheless. It's always a few degrees colder here and snow occurs more often, but I have some warm jumpers and the central heating!
The five greatest differences between the Scots and the English:
- Scottish people are far more left wing than the English.
- Scottish people are friendlier, more talkative and more open than the English.
- Many English drivers are maniacs on the road, whereas Scottish drivers are only mildly scary, at times.
- Nationalism is more prevalent in Scotland than in England. You might find this link interesting.
- The Scots know an awful lot more about England than the English know about Scotland.
I have indeed eaten Haggis, the original version only once, but the vegetarian version on many occasions. It's delicious and everyone should try it!
4. In some of your posts you say you feel so alone. On the other hand it occurs to me that you are in good company of friends. So are those posts just vague instantaneous snapshots, or should we really worry? And to compensate these sad posts: share with us your utmost moment of joy in your life, so far!
Not snapshots, no, but I do feel quite lonely, most days. There's a terrible old English cliché: one can be in a room full of people and still feel lonely. That about sums things up. There are so many things in my life which are secret, not because I can't tell anyone else, but because I shouldn't. It's very complicated. There are many aspects to me and many things go on in my life which not another living soul knows about. I wish that wasn't the case. Hang on though, it's not like I'm a secret rent boy or go out during the day robbing banks. Some of these things in my life are known to others, in most cases, only one other person, but there are things which are known only to me. I've never been like this before. I've always prided myself on being an open book. But now I'm a wasps' nest of secrets. I don't like this at all.
I have some really good friends, yes, but... How can I put this? I had some really good friends in Bournemouth, with only a couple of exceptions, I've lost touch with them all. The good thing about most of those friends was I could just turn up on their doorstep, have a cup of coffee, slice of cake or whatever, have a good chat and then go home again. I have very few friends here in the city, and none of whom would I feel comfortable visiting without having made an appointment to do so. Next thing, I'm afraid of asking anyone if I can come and see them. It doesn't really seem socially acceptable, inviting yourself to see someone - and I'm scared shitless of rejection. I just wait until someone asks me to come and see them or go out somewhere. It doesn't happen that often. I guess this is because I'm not the most vibrant of people. I don't know.
So, I just sit here, either at the computer or in front of the TV, or go out into the woods with my fabulous dogs, Meg and Mary. I'm never really alone, but lonely, I am.
The utmost moment of joy in my entire life? It's a secret. :(
5. Have you ever been to the Netherlands? (When yes: what was your best experience and when no: why not and when will you do so?
Yes, I have been to The Netherlands! The first few occasions, it was only en route to somewhere else, Germany, Austria, I think. However, the last time I went to The Netherlands was ultimately to visit Amsterdam. Or was that the time before? You see, I've also been with Phyllis on a business trip. No, I think I'm right, the last time we went to The Netherlands was to visit Phylly's pal Lindsay in Amsterdam. We had a fabulous time, although Phyllis refused to visit The Sex Museum. We went to Rembrandt's house, a fabulous eaterie called Nomad's, took a trip on the canals, the Rijksmuseum, rode bicycles around the city and lots more fabulous things besides. I hope to go there again sometime.
Amsterdam was a beautful city. I hope to return there someday. The people were friendly, the food and drink were delicious and I found a Sandra DVD I was after!
My best experience? I wish I could say it was smoking dope in a café, but it wasn't. Didn't even go in one! My best experience was at Nomad's. Or was it Nomads? I think it was the latter. Hang on, I'll just look it up. It is Nomads. Click here to read all about it. I had my palm read and it was surprisingly accurate. I was incredibly drunk, quite early on, which stopped me from appreciating the food as much as I would have done if I were sober. This means I'll have to go back.
Thank you, March Hare. This has been a throughly fabulous experience.
So, now, come on all you people. Want to be interviewed? Ask! Please!
10 Ways To Kill Yourself:
1 Hang around with people who don't care about you. Mars bars will become your only comfort, you'll become obese and die of a heart attack or stroke.
2 Live a life of misery and sorrow, usually surrounded by people who don't give a shit or are out to hurt you at every possible moment. You'll turn to vodka to drown your sorrows and die of sclerosis of the liver.
3 Make sure your brothers and sisters hate you. That way, you can be sure to have your parents at the centre of any family dispute or conflict. Parents see no wrong in their children, and they will be more upset than you at the end of it. Out of guilt and shame, you'll be at the beach one day, go in for a swim, sink beneath the waves and never come up for air.
4 Get yourself in love with someone who doesn't love you. You'll feel worthless and depressed. In your despondency, you'll not be bothered to look left and right when crossing the road. A truck will come along and smash your body to bits.
5 Have a partner who regularly cheats on you. They're more likely to give you HIV/AIDS. In your depression, you won't take any life prolonging medication and it'll all soon be over.
6 Live with someone who has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. There will be cleaning fluids and bleach all over the house. In your exasperation, you'll drink the lot. It's a painful end, but shouldn't take too long.
7 Live with someone who constantly tells you that you're fat. Your self-worth will be at an all time low and you'll soon be afraid of eating anything. Within three months, you'll be dead.
8 Go on dates with someone who's not attended their anger management classes in a long time. Make sure you're always late for nights out, meals and parties. You'll soon find yourself clubbed to death.
9 Ensure your significant other is the kind of person to never say, "I love you." Your mind will be full of doubts, you'll become acutely anxious and then insane. Your GP will give you a prescription for anti-depressants, tranqulizers and, if you're lucky, valium. You'll become even more depressed and take all the pills with a litre of gin.
10 Get someone to break your heart. You'll just feel like giving up. This method can take a while, but it will work.
A new radio station started broadcasting yesterday, Talk 107. I tuned in this morning and heard on the news that there are tentative plans to build a Shinkansen/Bullet Train link between Edinburgh and Glasgow! Yay! Look at the article: here.
The journey time would be cut from fifty minutes to fifteen! Think they'll pull it off? I seriously doubt it.
I adore Soft Cell, they're one of my favourite groups of all time. I refuse to use the word band.
One of my earliest memories of Top Of The Pops is Soft Cell performing. I don't know if I was in awe, perhaps I was too young, or just star struck, or amazed at seeing something I'd never seen before... Or was it the pure campery? I don't know, but I remember being amazed and stopping dead in my tracks as I passed the television.
So long ago now...
Their best album, in my humble opinion, is their last, Cruelty Without Beauty, and the best song on it is Last Chance:
In a city lost in time
Somewhere sordid and sublime
We met over a gin and lime
One rainy evening
Survivors clinging to the mast Trying to make the moment last just
Two people way past their prime
And how it shows
So come over here For some romanceAnd dance with me Like it's the last dance
And come home with me
Won't you come home with me?
This is our last chance for love
You thought you looked like Carol White
Bleached hair piled upon your head but
You looked more like a lady of the night
Instead
In your see-through plastic mac
Homage to cheap sixties tack
You're
So far out you're on your way back in
Again
I've wasted too many chances
On small ads and Internet romances
So come home with me
Won't you come home with me?
This is our last chance for love
I toyed with a cigarette
Trying to look aloof and sexy
But I couldn't see for the smoke In my eyes
OK, I have a shaky limp and
Dress a little like a pimp but
After your drink I'll still look OK
In a good light
I had some dreams where did they all go?
Gone with my years
Nothing left to show
So come home with me
Won't you come home with me?
This is our last chance for love
Come home with me
Won't you come home with me?
This is our last chance
For romance
Our last chance
Come home with me
Won't you come home with me?
This is our last chance for love
This is our last chance
This is our last chance for love
One question - who is Carol White?
This week, according to iTunes, I have mostly been listening to:
I Don't Wanna Get Hurt - Donna Summer
I've Never Been To Memphis - Billie Ray Martin
Breakaway (Remix) - Donna Summer
Wow - Kate Bush
I Ain't Got No/I Got Life - Nina Simone
Hug My Soul (12" Mix) - Saint Etienne
J'ai Pas Peur - Eighth Wonder
Answerphone (Dance Remix) - XWiz
The Night They Drove Old DIxie Down - Joan Baez
To Be Young, Gifted And Black - Nina Simone
I'm told that on PM today, Eddie Mair informed listeners that Dick Cheney didn't have a hunting licence when he shot Harry Whittington.
Oops.
Will Dick now have to resign?
Should a US Vice President be allowed to stay in office if he breaks the law?
Hardly seems right, does it!?
Go, Dick, and go now.
I've just been watching BBC News 24 and noticed a new presenter. His name is Tony Campion - and I think he's hot! Do you?It seems he used to work for CNN and I found this about him on their website:Tony Campion has a Doctorate in High Energy Particle Physics obtained at CERN, Geneva, and a first class Bachelor of Science degree from Bristol University.He is British and speaks fluent French, having spent much of his twenties living and travelling outside the UK. Two of those years were spent in Africa, where he led commercial expeditions across the continent.Do you think he's a poof? I have my suspicions.Do you think he's hot? I do. Please click here to take part in the poll on fabulousness.
You're trapped in a broken down lift (elevator) with Superman, Father Christmas and the perfect man.
Who comes to the rescue?
None of them.
Are you tripping?
You're on your own! None of them exist!
Today is St Valentine's day. It's also National Contraception Awareness Week here in the UK. Spooky, eh!?
I used to think St Valentine's Day was fabulous, romantic and wonderful. Now I think it's sad, not in the pathetic sense of the word, more in the depressed, bitter, blue, pessimistic, dejected, cheerless, heartbroken, morose, glum, sorrowful, dismal, forlorn, hurt, low, lugubrious, gloomy, mobid, despondent, hurt, weepy and somber sense of the word. Christ, how many synonyms for sad are there? Isn't that quite telling? How many can you think of for sad?
My point? There is one, I promoise... How many people today were glad to receive a bunch of flowers and a card? How many people looked for the postman - an nothing arrived? How many people are grieving over a lost love? Or are hurt over unrequited love? How many people wish they could be with someone they loved - but can't? How many people wish someone was saying, "I love you."? It's sad, as I said.
Too many people today are feeling hopeless and full of sorrow. It's time St Valentine's Day was stopped.
Have just checked my ebay auctions and notice that my beans have a bid for ninety nine pence! Yay!
I'll be sure to put another can up for sale next week.
Just noticed though, on the can, the label reads HEINZ BAKED BEANZ. Why the Z?
What a pretentious title for a post.
Sorry about that.
Today, I'm apologetic Minge.
So, I tried imagining I was Nina, on a gold toilet... It didn't work. My mind was frantic that night. I was due to go for a consultation for laser eye surgery the next day and I was worried I'd be blinded. My worrying and Nina/toilet fantasy had no impact on my dream at all. I know there's nothing worse than listening to people telling you about their dreams, so look away now if you don't want to be bored.
I have two dogs, Border Collies, Meg and Mary. In my dream, Meg had died (and I wasn't the least bit upset!) and left all her money to Mary. She told me that she, as a dog, couldn't spend the money, so offered to take me on a cruise.
Mary looked wonderful in her large hat as we boarded the ship, a scene not dissimilar from the one in Titanic where Kate Winslet boards the ocean liner. We stayed out on deck and the ship soon left the docks. Within ten seconds, I could see our first destination: a small desert island with palm trees. It looked vaguely caribbean. What does it mean?
I have no idea.
Anyway, the next day, I went in to Glasgow for my laser eye surgery consultation. Once in the city, having had a bite for lunch, I called their office to check on their exact location, only to find my appointment had been cancelled due to lack of staff! They called this morning to offer me another appointment on Friday. I accepted, but I might not turn up, just to piss them off as much as they pissed me off.
I'm very worried about it in any case. I mean, I could be blinded!
After the eye people debacle, I went into an artists' supply shop and bought a canvas, paint and some paper. I plan on doing something for my living room. I just can't wait for it to be decorated. It's vile just now and quite depressing.
My dream of a cruise clearly had nothing do do with the previous days antics, but conversely, last night, my dream had everything to do with the events of the day. I was in an artist's studio and painting something very similar to Munch's Scream, although the paints used were only shades of green. I plan on having one wall of the living room papered with a green palm-frond-like design, the other walls with a white/pearl-like design and green carpet. Haven't decided on the curtains or light fittings yet.
I've been having withdrawal symptoms (not the Catholic kind) and so feel obliged to post something. As it happens, I do have something to post!
My wee friend Rob of London came up to Edinburgh today for a sojourn printemps, so Phyllis and I went along to a bijoux little café on Broughton Street where all the best poofs hang out. It's so good, I've forgotten what it's called. Sala? Sola? Solo? Salo? Something like that.
Tim, Anthony and Charles were also there and it was great to see them. It's something like an AGM for us. We only see each other once a year, though, shamefully, it's only Robin who doesn't live in Edinburgh.
Sadly, on this occasion, I forgot to take my camera. Really, I'm no pap, am I!? A post without a photograph or picture is like a flower without petals, the Christ-child without a halo or George W Bush without some idiotic comment... So I'm uploading the photograph a nice waiter or waitress took of us last year.
l-r: Phyllis, Charles, Robin, Anthony, Tim, Minge.
We had a nice meal (though no mushrooms were served) and a good yack, then it was time to get on our broom-sticks and head for home.
I mentioned to Robin, in the car, that no-one seemed to change from a year ago, and it's true. I could have lied and said that I'd taken the above photograph this year and you'd have to believe me. The only difference is that last year I'd have been sucking (steady) my belly in and the photograph was taken in daylight. This year, we met under cover of darkness.
I'm so tired. I don't know where the day has gone... But I know I'll not sleep. My mind's still buzzing. I think a spot of telly, a bedtime fag and a wee walk with my daughters is in order before I go to bed and sleep, to dream, I hope, tonight, of something wonderful and fabulous.
I read a book about dreams a while back, interpretations and the like... The author claimed that one's destiny can be shaped by dreams, their positive and negative effects (on the dreamer) can be altered by encouraging and propagating healthy and progressive dreams. The prospective dreamer should concentrate his or her mind on something he or she finds enjoyable before going to bed or willing good things to happen. Tonight, as I lay me down to sleep I shall imagine I am Nina Simone (I've always wanted to sing and play the piano) and that I am sitting on a solid gold toilet (only the rich can afford to do this).
I'll be back with news on how I got on.
I feel lost with no comments to respond to and may possibly slash my wrists.
I've just been watching Richard & Judy on Channel 4. I must be well within their target audience as I seem to watch no other channel. Anyway, they had Pete Burns on the sofa. Not literally, of course, this is daytime TV.
I adore Pete Burns, I really do, but watching Rich and Jude interview him made me cringe. And I can't really put my finger on why.
They seemed to treat him like an over-sensitive celebrity, darling. Which he isn't. He also seemed to be ignoring the questions, just saying things he wasnted to get across and overtly displaying his love for Micha
el in the form of hugs, hugs and more hugs.
Something's wrong and I can't work it out.
Richard and Judy can be a bit patronising sometimes. I still don't know if that was it. This certainly wasn't their best interview nor Pete's best performance. I'm quite disappointed.
I hope the hype of Celebrity Big Brother soon dies down and Pete can create is own, which is completely justified. There's a lot to hype. He's fabulous, he tells it like it is, and Christ, can he knock out a tune.
I've just been listening to one of my idols, Nina Simone. iTunes loves to pump out Ain't Got No/I Got Life at high volume. I was thinking about the words...
