Thursday, October 28, 2004

Email of the day

From Canadian Matt:

I had the weirdest weekend just past. I went to Crew's on Friday night (gasps of shock and disbelief...I know) and ended up getting invited to an after party.

Anyways, it turns out that this guy owns several gay internet porn sites ( is the biggest) and has a beautiful loft condo in kensington market.

The party is populated with hot, young porn models and porn model wannabes. There was lots of alcohol and literally bowls of gak (is that a correct spelling?) lying everywhere. It was so surreal.

To make a long story short me and this porn mogul spent a good deal of the evening talking and he asked me if I would like to go to dinner. I accepted although, I am not to sure how I feel about him...he is 40 and not at all my type.

So, we had a great dinner last night at Café Le Gaffe in the market and then went and saw The Grudge afterwards (scary movie). He had his personal assistant drive me home at 4am in a very nice (and fast) BMW.

He wants me to have dinner with him again tomorrow before he flies to LA on wednesday to launch a new site with Chi Chi LaRue. I'll keep you updated...

Toronto really is like this. It's so nice to be back in London where the gay scene is a little more tranquil and they have chairs.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

Dress to impress

So, I have a meeting with a lot of very important TV Marketing people. Who I want to like me and take me seriously. This is always hard, as I always say stupid things. But today will be different. I will make an Extra Special Effort.

It's only when I get into work that I realise that I'm wearing a T-Shirt with "YOU SUCK!" written on it in giant letters.

Cue frantic scrabbling around. Nope. Nothing even vaguely wearable in my gym bag, so I eventually turn up in a thick wooly jumper. It has vivid horizontal stripes. That clash wildly with the vertical stripes on my trousers.

So I go to the meeting. It's in a nice warm room, and I begin to boil to death.

Worse, a man I've had meetings with before is there. He's always seemed a little dull and nondescript, but has been terribly easy to deal with. But not now. He's back from holiday, transformed by tan and stubble into an amazing god of a human being.

He keeps talking to me about really important stuff. And all I can hear in my head is the buzzing of my heart, and, distantly, Queen singing "Fat Bottomed Girls".

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

John Peel dead! :(

Selfish inner thought: Why him? Why couldn't it be an unpopular presenter? Like the host of any dreadful Radio 4 panel show? Or an Archer?

Social Consciene

The other weekend I got caught up in the Peace March through the centre of town.

There I was, on my bike, forced to walk behind people with long hair and no shampoo.

I suddenly realised how far I've come since student radical days. My main thought was "Get out of my way! I've a bathhouse to get to."

How sadly shallow.


I've been having weird dreams recently.

1) Lee and his boyfriend took me to a bar where, if you went to the bar naked, you got free beer. But none of us liked beer.

2) My parents had brought a five story house that was a collapsing junk heap. They were living in three rooms, perfectly restored and furnished. The rest was a burnt out wreck. "It'll take a while, won't it luv?" said my mum.

3) Our department found a new way of deciding job losses. Our boss got everyone together in a spooky house at night, and read us ghost stories. The people who got scared were made redundant.

I'm trying to connect these. I just can't.

Saturday, October 23, 2004

The common cold

Is not going away. Bugger.

On the other hand, every day ill is another day not in work and curled up at home watching the West Wing.

Only worrying thing - it appears to have taken my alcohol tolerance.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

The Joy Vampire

All the fun's been sucked from my job, and I don't even have a hickey to feel smug about.

Thanks to the "new regime" (corporate-speak for "cuts, fear and weirdness"), my whole approach has changed.

I haunt my email, desperate for distraction (I even read Guy's endless sexist joke emails), and constantly pump sound into my ears to deaden my brain (Melyvn Bragg or Girls Aloud, it's all the same).

Lordie, it's been years since I've put a CV together, but there it is. Number 5 on my action list. After "Prepare Budget Projection" and before "Submit Task Spec Spreadsheet".

Suddenly my job isn't about creativity. It's about spreadsheets.

Yeah - I'm trapped in a double maths lesson. All we have to do is conduct business in French and throw in Rugby practice and it'll be school hell all over again.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

Karl's new girlfriend

I adore Karl's new girlfriend. First time I met her, I thought - there's a gay man in the body of a lady. Not a fag hag, but a genuine gay man's hearltess soul.

The week after, she proved me right. On a drunken evening out in a curry restaurant she shagged a complete stranger in the bogs.

Karl's still seeing her. I approve.

New Doctor Who logo, same old fans

There's a new Doctor Who logo, and the fans have gone mad, mad, mad:

Speaking personally, I'm sure the hysterical outpouring from fans at every new detail of the new series comes from an unjustified fear that the new series will be poo, and that simply by shouting loud enough they can make it good.

This is wrong. For one thing, the new series won't be poo. For another you're not going to seem like a reasonable interest group if you issue fatwahs about every little thing. There have been online death threats about casting, the size of the new TARDIS, and now the logo.

I've now responded to several texts and emails from friends with "Look, it's only a logo."

Somehow, I've completely forgotten that I was once an obsessed 13 year old who traced the neon logo onto graph paper so that he could recreate it on a computer.

My favourite musing on the logo comes from Page 38 of an online messageboard thread devoted to the new logo. It goes thus:

If this image opens out into the ultimate, mesmerising trip of an opening sequence then I suppose the slit of colour is the 'logo' and point of recognition.

If this is the end of the opening titles and the universe is contracting and the words take on the mass and colour of the dying cosmos, then perhaps we'd be getting somewhere.

Symbolically this could also represent Doctor Who 'saving' the universe. The D and O of Doctor and the O of Who are undergoing some sort of effect and look like they're at angles. Something is 'happening'.

Equally it could be that nine short lines shoot from the dot and rotate to letters from centre - 9 letters, 9th Doctor? Turn it on its side and it might be a modern recreation of the Hartnell titles. There is something a bit warm and familiar about the pointed ends.

Monday, October 18, 2004

Why I love colds

Colds are great for boys, aren't they? We can cope with every other hardship - from mending a fuse to reading Andy McNabb books - but we just can't handle the common sniffle.

But they're brilliant. They stop you from moving, thinking, or, indeed, being able to much of anything beyond watch TV, drink whisky, and feel sorry for yourself.

They're like a divorce - except they only take up a couple of days, and give you time off work.

Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Hotel Hangover

We didn't like our hotel. The BBC has a marvellous booking system, and this seemed the nicest in our price range. It had a great lobby - but the rooms were rather Dole Hostel - the curtains were nailed shut, the beds were collapsing, and the lights flickered.

After looking round several rooms, a fab lady from the BBC Hotel people found us a much nicer hotel. Which was a good thing - when the taxi picked us up the next morning, the driver said, "Ay, ay, lads - you fleeing Fawlty Towers, then?"

Apparently, the hotel is famous for its shoddiness, and for the fact that the street outside is the biggest hooker haunt in Cardiff. Which would explain the number of shifty people loitering under the railway bridge. That had puzzled us.

But breakfast was nice. Everything came from a tin. Even the yoghurt.

New chat up line

"Excuse me, are you a Doctor Who monster?"

Met a charming man who I recognised vaguely from somewhere. His name's Trey (changed by deedpoll from Jason), he's 19, and finished his work on set by asking Someone Important for a drink.

Due to everyone being very drunk, nothing sadly happened with young Trey. He phoned the next night, but we were too knackered to go out.

Tuesday, October 12, 2004

Working from Wales II

There's been a lack of updates, due to the weird computer situation here.

I've got the internet, email, and a working computer. But not necessarily in the same building.

Monday, October 11, 2004

Working from Wales

I'm spending the week in Wales, working on a very exciting BBC project that I can't really talk about. But everyone in BBC Wales is very nice, and pleasantly cynical.

Plus, given to moments of complete childish joy, as in "Shall we just go and ?"

BBC Wales really does have a woman playing a harp in the middle of a corridor.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Thank god for the Monday Guardian

I met my new manager. It did not go well. How weirdly scary.


Update: About a week later, I'm still waking up worried.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

Portillo no longer alone

Dear The Busted

So, you've finally come out. As Tory. How sad.

Now we know why you went to the year 3000. To see if there was a Conservative government.

There wasn't, was there?

Tuesday, October 05, 2004

The Child Actor

Eric was so gay you can hear him on Mars. He was the kind of gay man who puts the twinkle into Twink. And, much to Matt's seething disapproval, I'd caught his eye.

"I never knew you liked Russian orphans," growled Matt as I went over to talk to him.

Eric, it turns out, is almost 20, and follows his mother around the world, from marriage to marriage ("She's on number eight. South African. Don't like his house."). He's currently dividing his time between a thriving fashion and jewelry business ("Do you like my jacket? My last secretary gave it me."), marketing Red Bull in Canada (it's only been legal for three weeks), and acting. He loves LA, although, "I'm straight there. Everyone's straight in LA."

According to Eric, he was a regular in a series called 2030 CE (it's well worth following the link). "Mom was sleeping with the producer, so I got a part."

This show is now my new favourite thing. After a catastrophe, the world is run by teenagers. Remember the show from "Cruise of the Gods"? Someone made it. The show's Imdb page includes a review which states: "Pure Crap". I want to see it now.

Canadian politeness

Sign in a Toronto sauna: "Caution: Wet Floor"

Monday, October 04, 2004

Nasty new experience

I've maxed out my credit card. How did that happen?

How a lesbian became a drag queen

The Toronto Drag scene really is royalty. Every year they have a pageant to elect the Fabulous Imperial Court Of Toronto. There are drag queens wandering around with titles like "Her Imperial Majesty The Queen Mother Consuela Centigrade the Third".

Every bar you go, there's a man in a skirt. I've just seen the same Cher medley performed twice in an evening.

They've just held a Drag Idol competition. Stunningly, it was won by Bonnie, the fiendish bull dyke security manager at Crews Bar. Last anyone saw of her, she was a short, scowling pit bull in a lumberjack shirt.

Out on the smoking porch, her girlfriend Bonnie roars, "Okay fags. Stub 'em out and get in there! She's on." Meekly, we oblige.

Suddenly, she's on stage looking like... well, like a very pretty man dressed as a stunning woman. There's big hair, a bigger dress, and the biggest high heels, and she's strutting to torch songs like there's no tomorrow.

Matt leans over. "My god," he gasps. "She's.... smiling!"

Later Bonnie totters out to the smoking deck, pushing Candice, a drunk drag queen in a wheelchair. "These shoes are killing me!" she bellows. "How do you dance in these things every night?"

Candice shrugs, and points to her foot. It's in plaster.

Friday, October 01, 2004


So, Cameron is an ex of Matt's. Matt points out that he's "had work done" - he's an aspiring actor (Sample quote: "They've offered me a musical about the second world war, but I don't know if I'll take it.") who spends most of his time waiting tables and worrying about his appearance.

He looks pretty stunning. Although, when Randall points out that most of the work he's had done makes him look like Bon Jovi, I suddenly saw his point.

Anyway, Cameron is charming and witty and appears to be coming on to me. Of course, Matt is with us, and having a generally shitty time with Randall, and so the seduction of an ex has to be carried out with care and sensitivity. Despite consuming a large amount of alcohol, we behave with perfect deportment until Matt leaves.


Two days later, I meet up with Matt again. "You left suddenly," I say.

"Well, yeah. There you were in the middle of the club, my ex's hands down your pants while you were dry-humping him."