Smug Gays and Marriage

Although I doubt I will personally ever get married, I don't have a problem with other gay people choosing to do so. In fact, I support whatever decision someone makes for themselves with regards to commitment - after all, it is their relationship, not mine.

That said, I am finding it quite difficult at the moment with various people around me.

TWG (The Welsh Gay) is currently planning his marriage to the man he has been in a relationship with for 7 years. Great. Apart from the fact that they have both had 'extra-marital' affairs and search for 'extra-marital' trysts together constantly.

Um, sorry - but how does that fit in to the 'sanctity' of marriage? For example:

"I, John take thee Barry to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till in death we part, and with this ring I thee wed, and with my body I thee honor, and pledge my unfaithfulness."

Actually Barry - it's all about the threesomes. Why bother marry, TWG? And what exact reason do you have to be so smug about it?

Devil's Haircut

DB (Ditzy Blonde) returned from Kiwi-Land recently and I was ecstatic for two reasons:

1. She is fantastic company and makes more inappropriate, silly comments than I do.

2. She is the only other person apart from my sister who cuts my hair well.

What I also love about DB is that when she sees me she just decides what is going to happen with my hair. I have no choice in the matter.

I am not very good at making decisions like what haircut to have; however, occasionally DB cuts my hair and I think: SHIT.

It's not that I don't like the haircut, more that I worry about how it is going to go down at my workplace. My boss is rather conservative (as is the industry I work in) and our clients even more so. So on Saturday when DB cut my hair before we all headed out to dinner and drinks in cutting edge Clerkenwell, I was quite happy with the German-military-deconstructed-buzzcut-haircut.

After several bottles of wine and numerous post dinner drinks (Cointreau was my digestive of choice) it seemed truly fantastic. OBF and I decided to do a photo shoot around my hair in a drunken stylee of which I've attached a photo...

Upon waking on Sunday morning with a massive hangover and thinking about the huge meeting I had on Monday morning, I wasn't so sure. In fact, I felt very unsure.

Book Geeks # 1

Friday night a group of us held our inaugural book club meeting - it was a huge success! The group consists of only 4 of us - DJ Slippers, Mrs Vanderbilt, Kevin Aucoin and myself, and our first book was one of Mrs Vanderbilt's choices - Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell.

The book was chosen at random from a list we had each chosen two books for, and to be honest, when this book was selected I wasn't that happy. Although I love George Orwell's writing (Nineteen Eighty-Four is an amazing novel), the concept of reading about the Spanish Civil War filled me with dread. I normally *hate* books or films to do with war.

So I was thrilled to find that as I read the book I was enjoying it more and more! It is written in Orwell's typically lyrical, beautiful style whilst remaining clear and understandable.

Although each of us had slightly different opinions, the discussion was lively and exciting, and everyone worked well together. The conversation bounced all over the place, from the content and style of the book to the current global political state of the world, to Orwell's amazing vision. All washed down with several bottles of lovely wine and some themed snacks - Spanish tapas of course.

Ziggy for one can't wait for the next meeting. Long live the Book Geeks!

What you do, Bubba?

I've been keeping a secret for weeks now but am not prepared to for any longer.

Lil' Sis and B.I.L (Brother In Law) are pregnant! They've just had the 12 week scan and everything is good! No problems and apparently the baby was fooling around on the scan, waving at them and had a temper tantrum when my sister coughed.

Typical - my niece or nephew already has attitude. I guess it's in the genes.

YAY! I'm going to go baby clothes shopping over the weekend....

Lil' Sis/B.I.L - I love YOU! Congratulations, know that I'm thinking of you constantly.

Wherever I leave my hat...

Last night I caught up with Handsome Lawyer (HL) whom I used to date for a short while before I started seeing The Wanker. It is the first time we have caught up properly for over 3 years, so I felt a bit apprehensive about it to say the least. How was I going to feel about him? How would he feel about me? Would I find him attractive? Would the conversation be OK? etc.

We met at the South Bank and it was a gorgeous evening - really balmy, warm and there people milling about everywhere. We went to have a drink right on the river and then ate at Fish! right next to Southwark Cathedral.

It felt like we were somewhere in the Mediterranean - sitting in my t-shirt outside at 10pm at night and still feeling warm. On the table next to us was Paul wherever I leave my hat, that's my home Young who, as an aside, looks great for his age. Botox perhaps?

After dinner we strolled along the river and I wondered why I let this 6'2 blonde, blue eyed, intelligent, Handsome Lawyer get away.

The question is: was I simply fooled by the romance of the evening/setting? I'm sure all will be revealed with time. It always is.

In other news, I received my mark on my Psychology exam and somehow managed a Distinction. How the hell I simply don't know.

and now breathe...

My weekend was so brilliant that I don't even know where to begin. A few key points though:

Friday Night: Home alone, with copious amounts of red wine (oops), numerous Doctor Who DVDs and chatting to random blokes on gay.com pretending to be a 19 year old hustler. The fun never stops.

Saturday Day: Met up with NS (Non Smoker) at Balham Kitchen & Bar for liquid brunch before moving on to the Most Bizarre BBQ Ever. The host was a crazy Kiwi woman who had obviously been drinking since 9.30 in the morning so by the time her guests arrived was weaving slightly. The guests included an Asian Shirley Bassey lookalike who made me eat some of her curry and an awful gay man whose beautiful Kenyan husband was only with him so that he could stay in the country. True dat.

Saturday Night: Hospitality at the Red Hot Chili Peppers gig (FANTASTIC! What I can remember of it...) with NS (Non Smoker) - more alcohol (a combination of champagne, red wine and finally gin [?!?!]), drunken tube journey afterwards with NS's digital camera reminding us of our antics the next morning. All 199 photos. Mostly of fat ladies' bottoms and a sexy Jewish geek reading a London A-Z opposite us on the tube. At one point I wasn't sure I hadn't peed myself given how much NS and I were laughing. In fact, it was the man sitting behind me at the gig who had peed his pants - NS had photographic evidence of it the next day.

Sunday Day: Quite a bit of puking in the morning and then the Undercover Surrealism exhibition at the Hayward Gallery with TLB (Truly Lovely Boy) which took some work given how very hungover I was.

The screening of "Un Chien Andalou (An Andalusian Dog)" by Luis Bunuel was particularly difficult...

Mine's Gayer than yours, Butchie...

Butchie always has such fantastically gay videos over at his blog, so I thought he might enjoy this one....

hopefully the rest of you will get a laugh out of it also.

London's latest problem

First it was terrorism. Then it was Mad Cow's. Next came Avian Flu. Now it's....

CITY SHORTS.

This is a new blog dedicated to the issue at hand.

Please help me inform the masses of this growing problem.

Holes of Glory

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

This messed with my head so I thought I'd share...

Bitches in Heat

Before my Biker Love In, during the day on Saturday I went to a summer party with a group of teachers I used to work with years ago which was fine, although I didn't really have much in common with the others there. The primary reason I went was to see my friends who were down from Sheffield with the triplets, one of whom is my non-God child.

A couple of the women started bitching about a very good friend of mine (MGL - Most Glamorous Laydee) who wasn't in attendance (she still teaches at the school but wasn't there - she isn't really a part of that 'clique') and I just sat there not saying anything (they didn't know I still see her).

About half an hour passed (with them bitching the whole time about MGL and me being unusually silent. The bitching was becoming quite vile and they said some things I would not ever dream repeating because they was so offensive to MGL) and the following transpired:

Bitch # 1: 'You're very quiet, Ziggy... do you remember MGL at all?'

Ziggy: 'Oh yes, in fact, I see her very regularly still'.

Bitch # 3 (stuttering slightly): 'How, in a professional sense?'

Ziggy: 'No, she is one of my very closest friends. In fact, she really is more like my family now. I see her once at least every 2 weeks and regard her as one of the most beautiful people I have ever met in my entire life.'

Bitches sit in complete silence. Bitch # 1 (Ringleader of the Bitches) starts to flush red from her cleavage all the way up her neck till she resembles a lolling beetroot on a stick.

After at least 5 minutes of complete and utter awkward silence, Bitch # 1 (Ringleader) makes some excuse to leave the party altogether.

Bitch # 3 now sidles up to me with: 'Why didn't you say something earlier when we were carrying on like that? We're so embarrassed...'

Ziggy's final retort as he leaves the party: 'That was the point, bitches.'

um... Happy Pride?

So it was gay pride over the weekend and how many gay establishments did Ziggy attend?

Nada.

In fact, I had drinks and dinner with a mate on my roof terrace Saturday night, and then once she had left, joined my neighbour and her Biker Buddy (BB - sounds so gay, doesn't it?) who were also sitting on the roof.

When I first sat down with them (at around 11.30pm) it was obvious that he felt uncomfortable with me (he was about 6'2, with bulging muscles, a shaven head with large nasty scars visible pretty much everywhere on his body from significant motorbike accidents) most probably due to the fact that I was gay. Nothing was said to me, but you could tell that he wasn't entirely comfortable.

Two bottles of whiskey later at 4am and I had to extract myself from his arms that were wrapped around me, with him telling me what a fantastic 'bloke' I was and how much he loved me. Apparently I had more drinking power (and therefore testosterone) than most of his biker buddies...

I really enjoyed the night - it appealed to me that my 'gay pride' involved enabling this very straight biker to look past my sexuality and see me just as me.