31.12.2003 - The sight of a big manhood...

After reading Honeytom's wonderful piece yesterday about Jonathan King's letter to Attitude I was reminded of my colleague Gareth's discovery of a Dear Deirdre letter in the The Sun. Gareth tells me that most of the Dear Deirdre letters are shite but every once in a while...

The letter in question was entitled, I want big blokes to bonk her and deals with a young man's fantasies about about his "girlfriend having sex with well-endowed men". This troubled guy asks Deirdre if he might be bisexual.

In her reply Deirdre say's, "This doesn’t mean you are bisexual. It means you are normal." What the fuck...? She then goes on to advise that his fantasies are probably a reinforcement of how sexy his girlfriend is.

Pardon me Deirdre for not thinking outside the box on this one but it could be because he's as gay as a big pink gay thing and a size queen to boot. Just a thought...

And on that note... Happy New Year and all the best for 2004.

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30.12.2003 - An awfully big adventure...

Is it my imagination or do more celebrities die around Christmas than at any other time of the year? This season has put pay to a bumper crop; Alan Bates, Dinsdale Landen and Bob Monkhouse. It seems to be the same every year, Charlie Chaplin, Dean Martin, WC Fields and Joan Miro all died on Christmas Day. Christmas is to those in the public eye what Shrove Tuesday is to fat, flour, eggs and milk.

But then, 2003 has seen a big harvest all year round: (in no particular order) Bob Hope, Gregory Peck, Maurice Gibb, Katherine Hepburn, Nina Simone, Robert Stack, Compay Segundo, David Hemmings, Johnny Cash, Elia Kazan, Charles Bronson, Mickey Most, Buddy Ebsen, Michael Kamen, Horst Buchholz, Warren Zevon, Celia Cruz, John Schlesinger, Robert Palmer, Denis Thatcher, Barry White, Fred Rogers, Edwin Starr, Gregory Hines, Thora Hird, Donald O'Connor, Mickey Finn, Bobby Hatfield, Hardy Amies, Elliott Smith, Denis Quilley, Gene Anthony Ray and Roy Jenkins have all picked up their harps and entered the big yawn in the past year.

More euphemisms for death can be found here.

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29.12.2003 - Christmas highlights and lowlights...

Highlights: Spending Christmas with the bf and his family when I'd resigned myself to a diet of cornflakes on my own here in Cardiff.

Getting to know Mads (the bf's sister's bf) a little better.

Reading this at the moment.

Sailing through departure halls at Heathrow and Kastrup while queues of travellers stared on in envy, thanks to e-ticketing and self service check-ins.

The style and poise and efficiency of everything SAS related.

Lowlights: The coke machine that stole my money at Heathrow coach station.

The rude coach driver at Heathrow coach station who barked at me, insisting I return to Terminal 3 to board his stupid fucking bus.

The old dear who sat next to me on the coach, fell asleep and then silently farted all the way to Cardiff.

The rudeness, vulgarity and inefficiency that hits you within minutes of landing at Heathrow.

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28.12.2003 - God Jul...

I made a last minute decision to pop over and join the bf for Christmas in Copenhagen. I flew out on the morning of Christmas Eve and arrived back today. I ate and drank and I was merry. I saw very little of Copenhagen but a lot of roast pork, red cabbage, open sandwiches of every description, rice pudding with almonds and cherry sauce, marzipan sweets and, not forgetting of course, countless glasses of Carlsberg, Tuborg and Gammel Dansk.

Somewhere in this alcoholic haze I did manage to take a ride on the newly opened Metro in Copenhagen. They even do underground stations with style..!

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24.12.2003 - Nadolig Llawen...

This is a snap of me aged one and a bit, content at having my photo taken with any weirdly dressed stranger my parents chose to put me with.
And it came to pass that a star shone bright over a department store in Swansea...

I've been the same all my life - happy with the company in which I find myself; unlike my brother who would ball and shout at anyone or anything unfamiliar to him.

I have not only relied on the kindness of strangers but enjoyed their company too.

Merry Christmas...

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23.12.2003 - Back on top...

What do you do when you're skint and depressed? Go out and spend loads of money on clothes, of course! Today I bought these, this and a dark blue pair of these.

I'm still skint but not nearly as depressed...

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22.12.2003 - Mad world...

Gary Jules' cover of Tears For Fears hit, Mad World is the UK's Christmas Number One. Originally recorded three years ago for the film Donnie Darko, it's been a bit of an outsider in the race for the number one spot this Christmas.

Well at least it wasn't the Pop Idol 12 with their cover of Happy Xmas (War is Over). I really hate the arrogance of the Pop Idol producers thinking they can thrust a song to the top of the charts on the back of a TV programme. They managed it last year with Girls Aloud's Sound of the Underground, despite a concerted effort by many to trip them up with a campaign to buy the Cheeky Girls' single.

There's many will think Mad World a strange Christmas single with its rather depressing lyrics about detachment and the inability to connect with the majority view of normality. I find it refreshingly apt in the current political climate. Let's face it, it's closer to the truth than Happy Xmas (War is Over).

By coincidence, I eventually did get to see Donnie Darko on DVD yesterday. I really liked it a lot. It reminded me of Magnolia, the way it traces fragments of people's lives, pulling together seemingly disparate elements into a cohesive whole. Both films normalise the lives of characters with strangest of values and behaviours. Bathed in the glow of my widescreen I can't help but think it really is a mad world.

And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it’s a very very
mad world mad world

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21.12.2003 - Judging books by their covers...

Prostitution, in many ways, has a lot in common with acting. I well remember the cattle market of waiting to read two lines for a director, followed by a cursory glance and the judgement, "Too thin!" - all of which left you feeling pretty shitty. It was one of the reasons I jacked it in. There are very few professions where you win or lose purely on the way you look. In his blog RuPaul refers to a recent audition he went for, questioning the pain of being judged on such a personal level.

To say that looks are not important in other professions would be shortsighted; they are fast becoming one of the top priorities in a number fields. Take politics; it's said that Richard Nixon's beard shadow contributed to his unpopularity - he looked sly and untrustworthy (which, I know, turned out to be correct in his case). Compare JFK's fresh faced charm and Tricky Dicky's second hand car salesman image. Ian Duncan Smith and William Hague both lost out in part because of their baldness and Neil Kinnock because he was ginger. Their qualities as leaders became of lesser importance.

Image is (almost) everything. Anyone in the public eye must obey this rule. Governments are made on the back of how their leaders look. Blair and Bush are groomed to look like trusted uncles in the same way that male BBC children's presenters take on the image of friendly older brothers. In the pop arena which often places image above talent and experience, how refreshing to see Michelle McManus win the title of Pop Idol last night.

Perhaps we should delve beyond the dust cover and, at the very least, read the table of contents..?

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20.12.2003 - When your boyfriend leaves you...

The bf left me in the early hours of yesterday morning; not for good but for two weeks with his family who live in Denmark. And me? I feel a bit lost without him.

Yesterday wasn't so bad as I was in work for most of the day and then went to a bar for a couple of drinks with some workmates. And this morning was OK as I was in work again for a couple of hours. But this afternoon I really didn't know what to do with myself. I suppose it shows how much I've come to depend on him. I bought two DVDs to occupy me this weekend; Donnie Darko and Trainspotting - neither of which I've seen. However, I don't really feel that much like watching either of them now though.

God knows what I'd do if he'd really left me for good. We've been together for 6½ years; it'd be like having my leg amputated. Getting dumped is the worst thing and in the majority of relationships I've had, I have been the dumpee not the dumper.

One guy dumped me during his conversion to Judaism; he said God wanted him to mark his conversion by giving something up - me. Another guy dumped me on the way home from a club and for apparently no reason at all. I gave him one by punching him in the face outside an Angus Steakhouse. The last I heard he was big on the London drug club scene. Another guy dumped me on Christmas Day - the same Christmas Day that Den dumped Angie in Eastenders. What's that again about life immitating art?

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19.12.2003 - And the winners are...

Yesterday The Guardian announced The best of British blogging. Despite much criticism of this competition it was good to see Beyond Northern Iraq and Call Centre Diary both get highly commended mentions in the best written category. However, I'm left asking myself where's Peter - surely worthy of high commendation..?

Another potential winning blog I've stumbled across is the promising Honeytom - well worth closer inspection...

If you're bored and looking to fill time, why not get yourself over to XFM Online's Crimbo Album Cover Quiz and win an iPod (Link via Popbitch). It's a winner...

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18.12.2003 - Caution...

Humberside police officers had dealt 10 times with Ian Huntley, regarding allegations of rape, unlawful sex with underage girls and indecent assault on a 12-year-old girl. How the hell then did Huntley get a job as a school caretaker?

People are now calling for new laws to prevent this happening again. But surely, isn't this just a knee jerk reaction? We don't need new laws allowing public access to lists of everyone accused or suspected of sexual offences - as has been suggested. What we need are better and more integrated systems to support the existing laws. It's communication that has been highlighted as lacking in this case.

In the immediate aftermath of this trial it's very easy to stand up and say that potential infringements of civil liberties are nothing in comparison to saving two little girls' lives. However, my fear is that in a society where, for example, homosexuality and paedophilia have become synonymous in the popular imagination, an erosion of civil liberties may well mean the ruin and possible loss of many homosexual lives simply because of false accusations.

The errors and cock-ups that allowed a man such as Ian Huntley to gain a position of trust at a school are truly awful. However, a law which gives public access to anyone who's had the finger pointed at them is, in my opinion, far worse. Let's tread carefully.

link | so... tell me

17.12.2003 - Well hungover...

Half remembered thoughts of what I said and did are swilling around in my oh so hurty head. I stink of booze and fags and my leg still hurts from the cramp that woke me up at 5am this morning.

Who had the daft idea of organising a Christmas party on a Tuesday night? There was a time when I could take such things in my stride but, judging by the way I feel this morning, those days are well and truly over. I need help.

Today will be a success if I can get through it without throwing up.

link | so... tell me

16.12.2003 - No, but he did make exceedingly good albums...

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus, Winter Wonderland , Frosty The Snowman; yesterday I went and bought A Christmas Gift for You From Phil Spector.

He may well be looking at a life sentence for the murder of actress, Lana Clarkson, by shooting her in the mouth but boy, he knew a thing or two about record production.

It really is the best Christmas album in the world... ever!

link | so... tell me

15.12.2003 - No, but they do make exceedingly good ads...

As we hurtle toward the annual yuletide meltdown the best festive thing on the box at the moment is the Mr Kipling TV ad by Saatchi & Saatchi.

It's pure magic and hugely funny. According to the Guardian it has already provoked over 100 complaints from viewers who think it blasphemous and offensive.

If you've not seen it, click on this link before it's banned.

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14.12.2003 - Not every boy dreams of being a marine...

I detested football as I detested all those red-blooded professions; I never ever dreamt of becoming a marine or of joining the police, I didn't want to become a pilot or a bus driver and I had no interest in becoming an astronaut or digging holes in the road.
"What d'ya wanna to be when you grow up, son?" My father never asked me that question. I know that he wanted me to follow in his footsteps and become a football player and succeed where he didn't. However, he never pushed for it. He didn't need to, the rest of the family did that for him.

My mother saw me in some sort of professional rôle. Now this was nearer the mark and, for a short time, I think I made her quite happy with my aspirations to be a teacher but this soon faded from my imagination. If you're Welsh and you have a certain academic flair then teaching is the obvious choice. It's a bit of a cliché. I didn't want to be a cliché. As a schoolkid science interested me and I can remember a careers chat where I was pointed in the direction of biomechanical engineering but this also soon faded. The designing and testing of prosthetics wasn't the glamour I was looking for.

I left school and started work in a local factory where I day dreamed two years away and read every play script the local library had to offer. The future was becoming a little clearer and I started to audition for drama schools. After a year of rejection letters my mother was getting worried that I was going to waste my life working in a dead end factory job. I once overheard her talking to my father; in her opinion I was deluding myself dreaming about becoming an actor, I was obviously without talent in that area. She'd arranged an interview at a local engineering firm where they were looking for a trainee draughtsman. Obediently, I attended the interview and, to my surprise and dismay, got the job. This tedious job I stuck out for 6 months before walking out one afternoon, returning to my job in the factory.

A few months later I eventually got accepted at a drama school. I became an actor and for twelve years after finishing college this is what I did to pay the rent. Eventually, however, this also faded and I gave it up. And now I find myself working for a bank and I'm not quite sure how I got here or where to take it. My mother, of course, is pleased. I, on the other hand, feel insecure and fearfull of the future - what do I really want to do? Baz Luhrmann said in Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen), "Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life... the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t."

Well maybe...

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13.12.2003 - What's for breakfast..?

According to the BBC we are favouring healthy foods over those we perceive to be unhealthy. However... Would you be surprised to learn that we Brits still spend more on crisps than all the other major European countries put together?

The stink of barbecue, beef and onion, smokey bacon and prawn cocktail flavour crisps on the bus in the morning is overpowering. A packet of Walkers seems to be the preferred breakfast of Cardiff schoolkids.

link | so... tell me

12.12.2003 - Times change...

I left work last night and pushed through the late night shoppers. I decided on a slight detour to buy some cigarettes. Rounding a corner near a church I noticed a briefcase chained by a cycle lock to the railings.

I went hot and cold and I quickened my step; if only I could get around the corner before the bloody thing detonated then I might stand a chance.

Glancing over my shoulder as I turned down a small side street, I noticed a man in a dark blue raincoat giving out leaflets on how Jesus loves us all. He checked the bag and went back to distributing his leaflets.

Overreaction? Maybe... But three years ago and this would not have even occured to me.

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11.12.2003 - Dead against it...

An application by a couple in Wales to convert their bungalow into a crematorium has been refused. They've already been given permission to use land at the back of the house as a private cemetry. Before this, in 1990, permission was given for change of use into a residential home for the elderly.

Objections to the property's use as cemetry and crematorium have included that it's nextdoor to a pig farm and close to a river prone to flooding.

One neighbour, who did not want to be named, said, "People around here have been dead against the crematorium..." Read the full story here.

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10.12.2003 - Life cycles...

It's always a great day when you discover a new blog that you like and it's oh so sad when a blogger decides to quit. Read then Mike at Troubled Diva on how he started and why he's decided to call it a day.

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09.12.2003 - Please accept my apologies, Doctor...

Yesterday Lee at Glitter For Brains spoke of being told off by former Doctor Who, Sylvester McCoy, for firing balloons in his general direction at a party. That's a coincidence because I was once told off by Jon Pertwee after I fell over his feet at a party. Perhaps it's a thing with time lords; reprimanding fellow partygoers. Perhaps it was because I was pissed.

Have you ever been to a party where you were told off by William Hartnell, Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker, Peter Davidson, Colin Baker, Sylvestor McCoy, Paul McGann or Peter Cushing? If you'd like to join our exclusive club, write and let Lee or I know the details of when you were told off by the Doctor.

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08.12.2003 - My glamorous life...

What have I done this weekend? Not a lot; I've been feeling totally exhausted. I was in work on Saturday morning so that removed 25% of the weekend to start with. Saturday afternoon me 'n' the bf met David and Sara in the pub and we all yawned a lot. Not the most energetic of sessions. The atmosphere was nice and relaxed but we all seemed shattered and a bit lack lustre. Half pissed, I returned home, ate and went to bed.

Yesterday I spent much of the day changing the format of my galleries. I've realised for some time that they're not exactly user friendly and when David said that he'd given up trying to view their contents I thought it's time for a change. There's still some work to do and I realise that they're not exactly the most sophisticated of galleries but I'm happy with them. Go have a look, you never know what you might find..? Let me know what you think.

Sunday night was taken up with the usual preparation for work on Monday: ironed shirts, trimmed nasal hair, cut nails and shaved head...

The only highlight was news of Grayson Perry, the transvestite potter, winning the Turner Prize.

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07.12.2003 - Sticks and stones...

Rodney Price (alternatively known as Bounty Killer) has cancelled a UK concert after Outrage have demanded he face charges over his homophobic lyrics.

According to Peter Tatchell, Bounty Killer calls for gay people to be burned, drowned, wiped out, stoned and murdered. Our Rodney seems like a nice chap then...

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06.12.2003 - Life's hard...

This week has been tough and it's not over yet. The first week back in work after any time off is always hard and for some reason this week has been especially so. Any plans I've made have been totally scuppered by circumstances beyond my control. With every intention of being proactive I've found myself being totally reactive. I feel incredibly tired and you'd never think it was only last week I was on holiday. It feels like it never happened.

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05.12.2003 - The best...

Little Britain has to be the funniest thing on TV in a long, long time.

David Walliams and Matt Lucas have invented the funniest and most believable set of characters; Daffyd, Llandewi Breffi's only gay, hopeless transvestite, Emily Howard, long suffering Lou and wheelchair bound Andy and every teachers' nightmare, Vicky Pollard. I laugh out loud at every episode. This is going to be a must have when it comes out on DVD.

If you don't live in the UK, contact your local TV station and demand that they buy this series now.

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04.12.2003 - Now where's that nice chianti and those fava beans..?

If the homophobic comments that I mentioned yesterday from Richard Littlejohn in The Sun are anything to go by, it's surely only a matter of time before the press start linking homosexuality with cannibalism following this court case that's just opened in Germany.

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03.12.2003 - Gutter press...

The Sun, just in case you were in any doubt, is a vile rag of a publication that tries to pass itself off as newspaper. One of its high profile columnists, Richard Littlejohn, drags its image closer to the gutter.

Have a look at yesterday's exposé on Chris Bryant, Labour MP for the Rhondda. The Sun have found Mr Bryant's profile on some gay personals site where one of his photos was of himself wearing only white underpants. They also managed to obtain e-mails he'd sent to another guy where he uses explicit language about a potential date.

As you'll see from Littlejohn's attempt at painting a lurid tale, the language hints at the perverse and the unnatural; it is calculated to mislead and to sensationalise. Littlejohn tries to ally himself with "decent people" (whoever they are), "Before the gay lobby starts bouncing up and down, I must emphasise that I’d be saying the same thing if it were a heterosexual or woman MP." Yeah? When was the last time, Mr Littlejohn, you researched and wrote a similar article about the sexual adventures of straight MPs, using the slimy innuendos you use here?

It really is vile stuff and, of course, we've heard it all before; homophobic vitriol dressed up as reasoned arguement. I just hope that Chris Bryant's response is an honest one. It's the only dignified answer because as Ron Davies found out, do anything less and you'll never hear the end of it.

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02.12.2003 - Cardinal sins...

Cardinal Javier Lozano Barragan, president of the Pontifical Council for Health Pastoral Care marked World AIDS day yesterday by asking everyone to "Practice the virtue of chastity in a pan-sexualist society" adding that AIDS was "a pathology of the spirit". Cardinal Alfonso Lopez Trujillo, president of the Vatican's Pontifical Council for the Family, chipped in by saying that relying on condoms to stop AIDS was like "betting on your own death."

God help us...

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01.12.2003 - Now, where was I...

It's cold and it's raining. It's thoroughly miserable. I leave the house and I return in darkness. As Peter of Naked Blog calls it, "that season of prozac and suicide." Well, thankfully maybe not quite that bad for most of us but miserable none the less.

Wasn't it only a week ago today that I was sitting outside a quayside bar in Corralejo? Or was that the day we went walking in the mountains and stumbled upon that tiny whitewashed chapel clinging to the steep rocks? Maybe it was the day when we hired a car and drove to Jandia in the south; lying on that naturist beach, sunning our backs while the weird German posed on a rock above us? No, wasn't it the day we visited Bentancuria, the former capital, high up in the mountains and we sat outside that cafe in the heat eating pizza? Oh I really can't remember now but I know I was somewhere on Fuerteventura in the Canaries.

A cheap and cheerful package holiday but it was great. We didn't sign up for any of the rep's excursions, instead we rented a car for a couple of days and did our own thing. We didn't mix much with the other guests and we didn't go to the hotel's pub quiz night and we didn't go their karaoke night and we didn't have a lager breakfast watching England win the Rugby World Cup on the big screens they wheeled in especially. No. And my only excursion to the hotel pool was for a photo opportunity.

We're planning on going back for a week once the madness and mayhem of the festive season is out of the way. In the meantime I've got a few photos to aid my memory and to keep me going through this "season of prozac and suicide."

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