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Posts Tagged ‘homophobia’

  1. Weddings and weirdos

    April 16, 2012 by superlative

    I went to a wedding on Saturday, and it was the first time I’ve been to someone’s second wedding after having previously attended their first wedding. It was an odd experience.

    Normally when I go to weddings I feel really pleased that someone has found the person they want to spend their life with, and feel excited for them to be making such a big commitment. I know how nervous they’ll be feeling about the day going well, and I get a bit choked up when they say their vows and declare their love for one another.

    None of that was absent from this wedding – I’m sure the happy couple were just as nervous and excited and meant what they were saying – but I couldn’t help thinking it all sounded a little bit hollow when I’d watched one of them make the same solemn vows before. It couldn’t have the same gravitas to hear them say they’d remain faithful and loving for the rest of their lives, even though they no doubt meant it wholeheartedly, when a little voice in my head kept muttering “Yeah but you said all this before, and then decided you’d had enough of them after four years”.

    Don’t get me wrong: I don’t think people should stay together if they aren’t happy, and it’s perfectly possible to fall out of love with someone. But I don’t see how a second wedding can ever have the same impact as the first one.

    I also had to keep biting my tongue when talking to the bride, because I don’t know her all that well, and my natural response when making conversation is to latch onto the experiences I’ve shared with them. And in context that meant her first wedding, and saying things like “You didn’t want a harpist this time then?” Which is sort of a fair comment, because it was true, but there was an unspoken rule that no one should mention that she’d been married before and everyone had to act like it had never happened. So I found that a bit stupid, and all the more so when she was still using the surname from her first marriage up until she signed the register.

    The wedding itself was OK. A bit cramped at times, as they’d chosen a small venue, and rather too cold to be eating outside so everyone was shivering a bit (especially the girls in summer dresses) and then fled inside as soon as the meal was over. They had karaoke in the evening, which was a bit unusual maybe, and lots of people didn’t want to do it in front of so many other guests they didn’t know. Chris and I waded in anyway and gave them awesome renditions of Cher – If I Could Turn Back Time and then Billy Joel – Piano Man. We were clearly the best singers (in my head).

    Then on Sunday we had lunch at Chris’ Mum’s house with his family, and unfortunately we both came away feeling quite annoyed. Neither of us really cares for his aunt and uncle, and nor do Chris’ brother and sister-in-law. So the four of us are generally a bit reticent to spend time with them. Chris’ Mum though has as thing about Everyone Getting Along and basically tricked us into lunch with them this weekend.

    The four of us were sleeping at her house on Saturday night after the wedding (as it wasn’t far away), and she had said “Oh I’ll do some lunch for us on Sunday before you go back, shall I?” to which we’d all agreed, imagining it meant just us lot. At some point along the way, this transformed into lunch for 12 people, which she deliberately kept from us until we couldn’t get out of it. You just have to endure family lunches, of course, so the four of us had a whispered “she did that on purpose” conversation but knew we’d just have to deal with it.

    The meal was alright, the same as ever really, but I got really annoyed and actually quite offended by his uncle this time. He made several gay jokes, including saying Chris’ new car was a ‘gaymobile’, that it should have a pink stripe down the side, and when we mentioned we’d been baking recently over dinner he said “Let me guess – FAIRY CAKES! laughlaughlaugh”

    And it just wasn’t very funny. It made me very self conscious and quite uncomfortable, and I just thought fuck off, I don’t know you well enough for you to make jokes like that. It wasn’t his intention to offend, I’m sure of that – he thinks he’s showing he’s OK with it – but he did it too much, and I didn’t like my sexuality being his primary topic of humour for the day.  There are certain words in particular I really don’t like being called – and queen and fairy are my top two. I could call him a bald retarded alcoholic with a trout for a wife, but I wouldn’t because it’s insensitive.

    Chris’ Mum is flapping now because she knows we got pissed off, and her enforced socialising sort of backfired on her. So now she’s trying to repair the situation, even though she didn’t do anything wrong herself really, and telling us she’s sure he was only joking. Well fine, he no doubt was, but if anyone else came into her house and made offensive jokes at us, she’d probably get really cross with them herself.

    So anyway, it was a bit annoying. On the upside, we can use it as a reason why we don’t want to have lunch with him again for a while, and she’ll probably lay off trying to force the issue.


  2. Sex and drugs and being called a faggot in the street

    February 8, 2010 by superlative

    I had a lovely weekend, involving two lots of clubbing and a yummy lunch out on Sunday. There was no sex, or drugs, I just said that to get your attention, but I did get called a faggot in the street. More on that later though.

    We thought we would give Don’t Stop Believin another try on Friday night, after last week’s enjoyable but rather under-populated launch night. Our friend Alice was quite keen to try it as the music they say they’ll play always sounds so good, so we thought it would be worth a go and hoped a few more people would be dancing this time. Unfortunately, there were actually even fewer people there this time than before, so it was a bit of a washout really.
    We still had a nice time, and we sat upstairs in the bar area to start with while we had a couple of drinks, but then as soon as you move downstairs to the club bit it just turns into a very chilly and very empty evening. The music was fine, quite good even, but when you’re the only three people dancing it just doesn’t feel all that much fun. So I think we lasted until about 1am this week, by which point we were fairly sure hoards of people weren’t going to arrive at any moment, so we called it a night. It’s a shame, as I said last week, because the club night is right up our street in terms of atmosphere and the playlist. I might not go again though, at least not until I see that it has got a bit busier.
    Then Saturday night was the FABULOUS Pop Kraft, which was much much busier, and was highly enjoyable. We had a few drinks at home, then waited for Alice to ditch her match.com date and come join us for our two-nights-in-a-row we’-re-still-young-aren’t-we trip to the Hanbury Ballroom. It was PACKED when we got there, which was a welcome contrast to the previous night. The music’s always really good there too, the Size Zero Albino and Boogaloo Stu both play really good stuff, and I think we’ve only ever had one night out at Pop Kraft that we haven’t really enjoyed.
    There was one slight wobble when the bar managed to enrage Chris so much I thought he was going to batter someone to death, by running out of change during the first hour. So after queuing up for 20 minutes to get served he was told he could only have drinks if he had the right money. “Do you take cards?”, he asked. “No,” said the unapologetic barman. There’s a card machine there behind the bar at the Hanbury of course, there always is, but for some idiotic reason it’s NEVER working. “So what do you want me to do?”, Chris enquired. “I don’t know,” said barman. What the fuck is that?? Do they not WANT to make any money? That was the fault of the Hanbury as a venue though, not the people who run Pop Kraft. If they had no change, they should either have given you the £12 round for £10, or found some way of giving you additional drinks until it made a round number. Tsk. So we only had one round of drinks there all night, which was fine for us because it made it fantastically cheap, but ridiculous for any club to operate like that. GET A FUCKING CARD MACHINE HANBURY BALLROOM (I’m assuming they’ll read this, everyone does don’t they?).
    Other than the No Drinks For You fiasco, we had a fab time. We acquired/stole some Glee facemasks of Sue Sylvester and Artie, which I’m sure will come in handy for… er… nothing, and we went fucking MENTAL when they played Don’t Stop Believing. As did the whole club actually, there was a bit of Glee fever going on in there that night. And we stayed until the end, which we don’t always do so I guess we must have been having a good time.
    The three of us wandered back home through Kemptown singing Don’t Stop Believing quietly (loudly) to ourselves, and it was at this point that a charming young man decided to say “Faggots” at us as he walked past with his friends. Due to a combination of booze and the fact we were at a good bit in the song (the bit that goes ‘Somewhere in the NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT’) I didn’t actually care that much at the time, but once I got home I was quite annoyed. It’s only happened to me a handful of times that I’ve been homophobically abused in the street (once on the Isle of Wight, and couple of times near the Level, which is apparently a hotspot for cockmunchers in white transits to drive past and shout “Poofs” at you), so I’ve been quite lucky really. I’ve never been attacked or anything, and I don’t actually care if someone calls me a faggot. I know what I am and I like what I am, so you’d have about as much chance of insulting me if you called me tall. It’s the fact that this person obviously thinks they’re better than you because they like to put their penis into vaginas, and because the only reason they’re saying it is to show off in front of their friends. No one ever shouts that sort of thing when they’re on their own, it’s like a stupid schoolboy thing they do to look cool.
    So that pissed me off a bit, because even in Brighton you apparently can’t escape from retarded idiocy. But it didn’t ruin my night, which was EXCELLENT.
    And then we had a lovely lunch in Gourmet Burger Kitchen on Sunday where I stuffed my fat face with a massive chicken, camembert and cranberry burger. It was gorgeous.
    All in all it was a lahvely weekend. We have such a nice life, I sometimes think, and I should be more grateful for it.

  3. The BBC have disgusted me today

    December 16, 2009 by superlative

    The BBC are really scraping the barrel today, which their repulsive Have Your Say ‘discussion’ entitled ‘Should homosexuals face execution?’

    Even the question is abhorrent, and I don’t know how they can justify posting it. Would it be right to have a discussion, under the banner of freedom of speech, on ‘Should black people be killed for being black?’, or ‘Should goats be executed for having four legs?’. NO. Of course not. Because the question in itself is ridiculous and stupid. All they’ve done is invite lots of horrible little bigots to submit their putrid little brain farts, typed out with their misshapen club hands, while they furrow their monobrows under the strain of trying to spell a word as long as homosexuality. It’s the kind of thing I’d expect from the Daily Mail, not from the BBC.
    The ‘Most recommended’ tab of the debate (sic) is particularly horrifying, both for the stupidity and the bile that it contains. And these are posts that have been RECOMMENDED as good by other readers. It’s truly terrifying.
    Chris the vile little toad from Guildford treats us to this awesome piece of widsom:
    “I suggest all gays are put on a remote island somewhere and left for a generation – afterwhich, theoretically there shoild be none left !”
    First of all, WOO HOO gay party island! We’ll take Mustique, thanks very much, and YOU’RE not invited because only people who can tie their own shoelaces and don’t clasp their pencils with their whole fist are allowed.
    Second of all, SHUT UP. Where do you think gay people come from? Not from breeding with each other obviously, you seem to have grasped that much. So what, you think we just swish past people in our fabulous outfits and somehow they get turned gay? You worthless little moron. I’ve known I was gay since I was in infant school. INFANT SCHOOL. Do you think I should have been put to death for it then? Or was it only when I started tonguing boys that I crossed the line? If the world ever has the misfortune of you breeding, I hope all your children ARE gay and I hope they hate you. Also, learn to spell ‘should’, you vacuous pustule.
    Rob D from Northampton is no better:
    “Homosexuality is not natural. It makes me very uncomfortable when you consider what it involves.”

    Homosexuality does not equal anal sex. Lots of straight people have anal sex. For FUCK’S sake. Do you think that’s all we do all day? Even if your problem is with anal sex, that’s completely different to homosexuality. That’s an act, not a gender. And you’ve got no reason to feel uncomfortable, who do you think is going to want to fuck you, you lard arse? Gay people have GOOD taste, haven’t you heard?
    It goes on and on. Anglobert from Surrey makes an attempt at being understanding, but can’t get past the ‘I’m a complete and utter DICKWAD with no right to be alive’ stage:
    “Let’s face it. Homosexuals are not wilful criminals but unfortunate disabled people who cannot enjoy Nature’s gift of attraction to and union with the opposite sex, and unable to treasure the family memories most of us take to the grave.

    Feel sympathy but do not regard their relationships as normal alternatives to marriage and procreation. Hopefully, medical science will find a remedy to normalise their disability. Meanwhile, they should not be regarded as criminals. They are born that way.”

    I’ll wait for my blue badge in the post shall I? It’ll make it much easier when I nip up to Tescos. You better be careful though, those bays are right next to the Mother And Baby ones, I might try to fiddle with some kiddies while I’m there.
    In case you hadn’t noticed, Anglobert, most gay people think gay sex is HOT. I for one do not feel a huge void in my life simply because I am unable to fancy Anglobettina, or whatever your snub-nosed dwarf of a wife is called. And lots of us also have FAMILIES. I know! Shocking isn’t it?
    So forgive me if I don’t rush myself down to the electroshock clinic in order to get my disability rectified. I’m far too busy spending my disposal income, wearing great shoes, and holidaying three times a year.
    The BBC should be ashamed of itself.