RSS Feed

Posts Tagged ‘hot boys’

  1. My most embarrassing moment

    May 10, 2013 by superlative

    My most embarrassing moment (or at least one of them) happened a few years ago. Just thinking about it now still gives me a sick feeling in my stomach actually.

    We have a friend called Zac who Chris used to work with. He lives in New Zealand now so we don’t see him much any more, but we used to go to the pub with him and his girlfriend and some other friends quite a lot. I used to have something of a crush on Zac. He’s attractive and very charismatic, quite flirtatious, and I didn’t let the fact that he’s straight and unattainable put me off – that just made it more exciting.

    One day a group of us played cricket in Brunswick Square and then went for some drinks afterwards. Chris and I had been clubbing a few nights before, and I was telling people how they’d had a face painter lady there who painted little motifs on our faces for us. I’d been particularly impressed with Sarah’s, and happened to have taken a photo of it on my phone, so while I was describing it I passed my phone around.

    This is Sarah with her fairy motif thing on her face:


    The phone reached our friend Rob (also straight and a friend of Zac’s), who said “Oh yeah, that’s nice.”

    And then he did something which you should never, ever do on a person’s phone. He swiped to the next picture. And got this.


    “Oh!” he said. “And a rather nice pic of Zac’s arse.” Which he then passed to Zac.


    You do not swipe on another person’s phone! You do not! You might find anything!

    It all went very quiet.

    Zac had been bending over during the cricket, looking particularly pert, and Chris had taken a photo on his phone and sent it to me to amuse me. It was just a bit of fun, you know, I wasn’t going to crack one off over it or anything.

    “I er…. I didn’t take that picture…” I stammered.


    I didn’t manage to infer that from the glare, so I just faltered a little bit more and snatched my phone back.

    Zac laughed and changed the subject, and the women in the group exchanged a few ‘Is this… OK? Is this normal behaviour?’ glances. I just kept my head down until we went home, but I was absolutely MORTIFIED and decided they must think I’m some sort of sex offender. If you switch the situation round so one of the men in the group had taken a picture of a different guy’s girlfriend bending over, it would be really bad, wouldn’t it? That wouldn’t be an OK thing to do? But it’s different with boys and gay guys I think – it’s not threatening to them, especially if they flirt and like the attention. Zac could beat me up if he wanted, so he’s not going to be that bothered by me thinking he’s fit – it’s only really likely to make him feel attractive. Isn’t it? (Actually I’d quite like him to beat me up, that would be hot. Wait, unread that, I’m making myself sound worse.)

    With the benefit of hindsight and a few years’ distance, I realise that I could have handled the situation a lot better. I could, of course, not have had a picture of Zac bending over on my phone, but let’s be realistic, that was inevitable. No, what I should have done was brazen it out and said something like “Yeah, well look at him bending over in those shorts like a slut, he was screaming for it,” and acted like I wasn’t bothered and changed the subject. By being visibly horrified I made it much worse and drew attention to how embarrassing it was.

    I’ve still got the photo, as you can see, so I obviously wasn’t bothered enough to delete it (I’m not giving up gold like that), but I can’t think about that day without wanting to pull my jumper up over my head and never speak to anyone ever again.

  2. Brighton Pride

    August 17, 2011 by superlative

    I have been going to Brighton Pride since 2000, and this year’s was one of the best I have been to in absolutely ages.

    After the last few years of failing abysmally to cover their costs, the organising committee took the controversial decision to fence off the festival part of the event and charge people to get in this year. Many people threw up their hands in horror.

    “It’s Pride, it’s meant to be inclusive! Inclusive means free!” some said.

    “Well I’m not fucking going then. I’ll go and have a free party on the beach instead,” others grumbled.

    But after all the complaining, and the initially slow ticket sales, I have to say that I think ticketing the event was a near total success.

    Last year, Preston Park was awful. Absolutely awful, and I did not enjoy it at all. Well, looking back at my blog post I apparently did enjoy it regardless, but it was still awful. 120,000 people packed into the park, to the point where you could barely move and had to spend most of the time pushing through a huge throng of people, trying not to trip over the ankle-deep litter on the floor. There was also quite a large proportion of people who weren’t there to celebrate diversity; they were just there to get smashed. There were large groups of drunk kids and street-drinker types, and it really didn’t feel like a particularly nice place to be at times.

    So halving the numbers (I suspect the final total will be 60,000 or fewer in the park this year) was great. It got rid of all the people who just wanted to get trashed, and allowed the people who were there to do some astounding things like: use the toilet without having to wait for half an hour; get to a bar and buy a drink without having to wait for half an hour; sit on the grass; actually walk around.

    They also had a live music stage again, for the first time in a good few years, and it has been something I’ve always missed. I’m not that into standing in a sweaty dance tent jiggling up and down to house music at 2pm, so a music stage provided a much more civilised place where you could spend some time and enjoy yourself without needing to do a lot.

    They had some very good acts on too, with the biggest names being Alexandra Burke and Joe McElderry. Sadly, in the end we couldn’t be bothered to wait for either of them to come on before we sloped off home, even though we had planned to. They just put them on too late – they were scheduled for 5.15pm, but by 6pm there was still no sign of them so we got bored. But before that, I very much enjoyed seeing Sonia (yes Sonia! From the 80s! No, she’s not dead!), and Booty Luv, and our new favourite boyband: Boy Banned. It’s not the best name for a boyband, but they were very entertaining, and I have a bit of a crush on Ethan now. He’s the one in the vest, here’s a picture:

    I really hope that Pride made enough money from the ticket sales to cover their costs this year, and that they keep the overall format in the future. I think it’s quite telling that I have pretty much never put anything in the collection buckets at Pride in the whole time I’ve been going (although I do donate via the fundraising the local bars do), so I have myself been part of the problem with it not making enough money. But once they stuck a ticket price on it, I paid up and don’t regret it. I’m sure I won’t be the only one. So if it makes it work financially it can only be a good thing.

    As well as the park being better this year, I also thought the parade was unusually good, with a large number of floats and some good outfits.

    The street parties in St James’s Street were okaaaay, but I found them over-crowded and afflicted by some of the pikey street-drinker types I mentioned earlier.

    Chris spent most of the street party doing underwear modelling in a shop window as a favour to some friends, so that was nice for him.

    The other best bit for me though was the club night we went to on Saturday night. It was an old school return of Dynamite Boogaloo, our favourite club night for years and years that they stopped doing in 2009. And it was amazing! So much fun. It’s exactly our sort of music (because our sort of music was pretty much molded by Boogaloo anyway), and we knew quite a few people there, and I just danced like a crazy fool for hours and hours and hours. I wasn’t even particularly drunk; I was just drunk on Boogaloo excitement I think.

    So yes, that was my weekend, and it was really good. Thanks to Brighton Pride and to Boogaloo Stu, and to all the hot boys who swanned around in various states of undress throughout. It was really rather pleasant.

  3. Eurovision 2011

    May 20, 2011 by superlative

    We had our annual Eurovision party last weekend and I haven’t got around to blogging about it yet, so here you go.

    It wasn’t the best Eurovision party we’ve ever had, I think in part due to the poor quality of lots of the entrants but also because we invited some different people this time so Chris could have some of his friends from his new job over. And unfortunately, not all of them understood exactly how seriously we (I) take Eurovision – in particular comments such as “This programme is shit” and generally talking all the way through the songs were not appreciated. You would have thought, based on the amount of props and room decoration that we go to the trouble of creating, people would guess that we actually want to watch the competition. I mean our front door for a start should have been a bit of a clue.

    Apologies for Jedwards’ chillingly dead eyes. The boys can’t help it, they’re just dead inside.

    Anyway, I shan’t dwell on the negatives.

    Some of this year’s entries I thought were really really good, particularly Hungary and Sweden. Here’s Hungary, in case you haven’t heard it, which I have been listening to near enough on loop since Saturday.

    I absolutely love it! And Eric Saade from Sweden was quite fit too, so he also did well on my scoresheet.

    Unfortunately neither of those won, and we ended up with Azerbaijan. “Where the fuck is Azerbaijan?” I hear you cry. Well I shan’t tell you, because no one cares and it doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t remember how their song went and I haven’t bothered to listen to it again. I just remember it was instantly forgettable and really shouldn’t have won.

    I thought our entry from Blue was actually OK and was fairly catchy, but it was simply pitched too high even for Lee Ryan’s girly voice so it didn’t sound great on the night. But if we can’t even win with an internationally famous group like Blue then there really must be no hope for us.

    You can also blame Blue for my continued inability to say where Azerbaijan is. I mean, how exactly is one supposed to look up where inconsequential little Eastern countries are on this map?

    You just can’t look anywhere but at the picture of them in little white pants.

    I’ve never had a thing for Blue AT ALL, but since we’ve had pictures like this up around the house (they’re still up, I refuse to take them down now) I’ve developed quite a crush on Duncan, and I probably wouldn’t say no to Lee after a couple of drinks either.

    So I think Azerbaijan might be one of those little purple countries down near the oh look how naked they are and aren’t they more muscly than you were expecting them to be?

    As with last year, I was disappointed by the complete lack of costume changes in any of the entries. I love a good costume change. I’m told there was possibly one but that I missed it, but frankly if a costume change isn’t so dramatic that it makes everyone go “OH MY GOD SHE’S GOT A DIFFERENT OUTFIT ON!” then I don’t want to hear about it.

    And after last year’s aberration, Chris was back to winning the sweepstake YET AGAIN. People will start thinking we only host the party to defraud them out of pound coins.

    So next year’s show will be in Baku. I shall watch it but I’m not happy about it. The winner each year is becoming more and more Eastern as those countries monopolise the voting, so there hardly seems any point in us entering any more. My only hope of winning the sweepstake now is if I manage to draw China.

  4. Diving World Series

    April 20, 2011 by superlative

    Last weekend we made the really rather long journey to Sheffield in order to watch the UK part of the FINA/Midea Diving World Series.

    It was quite simply the hottest event I have ever attended in my life, and I’ve seen Adam Rickitt sing live and topless at Revenge.

    It was hot in fact in both senses of the word, because the diver boys were extraordinarily fit, and it was also about 40,000 degrees Celsius in the venue. Was one worth the other? Well yes I think it was actually, because not only do divers have the gorgeous bodies exhibited by most aquatic athletes, but they also wear the skimpiest of outfits of any sport known to man. The speedos quite frankly could not get any smaller without invoking some sort of quantum physics.

    I tried to take some photos, but unfortunately my little compact camera is not designed for long-distance totty spotting, and I quickly realised they were coming out too blurry. So instead I have taken about 30 videos of individual dives, and at some point when I’ve got a few hours I’m going to sit down and try to knit them together into a single file.

    In the meantime, here are a couple of pictures where you can at least make out there are humans in them and not just flesh-coloured motion blurs.

    This is Tom Daley atop his 10m diving platform:

    And this is the British synchronised diving team next to the American one, looking generally loungy and hot:

    The blond piece at the back was a particularly fine specimen, so I’m hoping my videos of him will have come out OK.

    In terms of the actual sport, it was the first time we’ve been to see live diving, and it was in fact really enjoyable. It’s quite a quickfire sport because they just keep diving one after the other, so there is always something to look at, and it is quite accessible and easy to understand. Basically small splash equals good, big splash and/or hitting the water practically horizontal equals bad. And then the scores come up, you clap politely, and if it’s a British diver you wave your plastic Union Jack around a bit.

    It was a bit frustrating that the Chinese competitors pretty much won everything on the day we were there, because obviously most people in the crowd wanted to see the Brits take home some medals. You couldn’t fault them though, because the Chinese were simply outstanding divers who made practically no mistakes. Even I, with my no knowledge, knew that they were producing some damn fine diving.

    Now that we have been to see some live diving, we’re going to have a think about whether we’d want to go to the Olympics to see it. That was kind of the point, as we thought it would be silly to buy tickets for something that might not be fun to watch live. I think we probably will, but the Olympic tickets do seem rather expensive at £50+ for a two or three hour diving session. I only paid £10 for our Sheffield seats, and that was the whole day. But anyway, it is the Olympics, and it’ll be the only Olympics I ever go to, so maybe we shall.

    And even if the British team don’t win anything, I at least know it will be an extremely stimulating experience.

  5. Brighton Pride – celebrating my sexuality by getting trashed and scoping out boys with my boyfriend

    August 11, 2010 by superlative

    I had a very nice, if exhausting, Brighton Pride weekend this year and ended up doing LOADS of stuff. I’m always a bit funny about the run up to Pride, not because I don’t enjoy it but because some people seem to get really REALLY over-excited about it, like it’s the highlight of their year or something. It’s not the highlight of my year, but I still like it, and this year’s was particularly good.

    We started on Friday night by going out for ‘a few drinks’, as we thought the bars would be quite busy already with early arrivals for the weekend. We were correct, because everywhere was RAMMED, and quite a few of the bars had decided they could get away with charging for entry. I found this quite annoying, because some of the bars really aren’t that good, and they’re normally free all day every day for the rest of the year, including their separate club area (yes, I’m looking at you, Legends). So suddenly to say it’s £5 to get in I think is a bit absurd, and we just scoffed at it and went elsewhere.

    Our few drinks ended up being several drinks, and took us to the Amsterdam, the Star Inn, the Hub and Vavoom, all of which were inordinately full but were free and had nice party atmospheres.

    I shouldn’t really have had that much to drink because I woke up hungover on Saturday morning, which was a bit annoying, but I was still able to drag myself out to the main road in time for the parade.

    The parade was frankly rather disappointing though, and has been for the last few years. The theme was a weird one, ‘Pride and (No) Prejudice’, and it didn’t leave people much room for dressing up. Yes you can be Mr Darcy and/or one of the Bennett sisters, but that’s about it. And the same as last year, the parade consisted almost entirely of trade unions, political parties, and a couple of banks. So none of the floats were that much fun, and none of them featured gratuitously stunning and semi-clad boys.

    It did at least stay dry this year, and we trekked on up to the park for a while like we always do. Normally we only stay for a couple of hours, but this year we were having a bit more fun and stayed up there until after 4. It was absolutely PACKED, to the point of being a bit annoying really, as you couldn’t actually walk anywhere – you could only shuffle along in a sea of people trying not to tread on anyone and hoping not to get swept off in the wrong direction by the current. We met up with a few friends though, which was nice, and we had a sit in the sun for a while and pointed out pretty boys to each other when they occasionally wandered past.

    I also had a nice long hold of our friends’ baby and felt very paternal:

    I’m not always that keen on babies, but this one is quite cute and very well-behaved, and he got a good fistful of some lesbian’s hair and wouldn’t let go for about 5 minutes, of which I approved.

    Saturday night was the Kemp Town Street Party, which always gets rather messy for us. It’s very easy where we live to pop in and out of the flat to get more drinks (making it cheap too), and I ended up drinking oh I don’t know… about three times as much as I had planned? Something like that. My recollection of the latter part of the evening is hazy, but I do recall some straight-looking boys taking their tops off and licking each other’s nipples; having a feel of one of my friend’s breasts and informing her they are “quite firm actually”; and a boy trying to pull me for about 2 minutes before he realised I had a boyfriend and stalked off in a huff like I’d been deliberately wasting his time.

    I had the worst hangover on Sunday and thought my head was going to explode, so I was very, very subdued for a while. I looked lovely, as you can see:

    I barely moved for about 3 hours, but then I had to start to shake it off because we had bought tickets for the Wild Fruit Pride Closing Party for that night.

    In a radical move, I decided I would try to go out clubbing without drinking, just to see if it was possible. And it was! It was really good actually. OK, I had TWO drinks, but they were only singles and I couldn’t actually feel them, and they were just to take the edge off my tiredness. But other than that I was entirely sober, and I didn’t mind at all.

    It was a bit odd dancing sober, and a bit disconcerting that everything stayed in focus for the entire evening. But it was also a welcome relief to my system, and I think if I had drunk any more I would have just fallen asleep anyway. And I finally managed to have a morning without a hangover on Monday, which felt amaaaazing after the previous days.

    So yes, that was Pride, and it was quite good. I’ve learnt since the weekend that they unfortunately haven’t raised enough money YET AGAIN, because people never donate enough on the day, and so I’m not sure what’s going to happen with it next year. It’s just too big and expensive to run now really – they had 160,000 people apparently, and I think they’re either going to have to start charging for some of it or try to scale it down a bit. You can’t sustain that sort of growth if your income doesn’t increase with it, and the park really can’t fit any more people in it next year. So who knows what they’ll do. I’m told in Manchester they fence off the entire gay village and charge people for a three-day pass (£15 or something). They could probably do that in Brighton, although it would be a bit of a nightmare to arrange and manage, and I presume I would be exempt from the charge as my house is in the gay bit of town already… I would actually pay something though if they asked, so we’ll have to see!

  6. ‘Now you’re in New Yoooooooooooork’ (except I’m not because I’m back now)

    April 19, 2010 by superlative

    Hello all.

    I had a marvellous time in New York (concrete jungle that dreams are made of), it was really really good. And as a bonus I got back with 36 hours to spare before the whole world went volcano-crazy and had to resort to plebeian land-based forms of transport.
    We walked MILES, at least five miles a day, and we did and saw so much, so I shall only share with you the highlights and some of the nicer pictures. It was meant to be a more relaxed trip to New York this time, as we’d already rushed around for four days there before doing all the touristy things, but in the end we did just as much this time. It’s that sort of place, you can’t really just sit around when you’re in the middle of one of the coolest cities you can visit.

    Our flight out from Heathrow was fine (good old Virgin Atlantic, they’re always so good). We used Purple Parking at the airport, which I had been a bit worried about because I’d read some bad reviews, but in actual fact they were really good and ever so efficient. I guess some people just get unlucky and have a bad experience, but we thought they were really good.
    Anyway, the flight was fine as I say, and I watched the film Precious on the way out. It’s a harrowing film in many ways, but it’s also brilliant and gritty, and kind of uplifting by the end. I also watched half of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, which was crap and predictable and as annoying as any of the other JK Rowling drivel (I watched the second half on the flight home; it didn’t improve).
    The hotel was the same one as we stayed at on our honeymoon, the Chelsea Pines Inn on West 14th Street. It’s a really nice gay hotel with very friendly staff, and all the rooms are named after movie stars and have their movie posters on the walls. This time we were in the Mitzi Gaynor room, which was a cheaper bracket of room than we had before, and it did show a bit. It was fine, nice posh furniture and stuff, but not as plush. I’d still recommend it anyway, and you can’t fault the location; it’s ideally placed so you can walk uptown to Times Square and the touristy bits, and downtown into Greenwich Village where lots of gay bars are.
    Some of the exciting things we did included:
    – Walking miles and miles up and down 8th Avenue, 7th Avenue, 6th Avenue, 5th Avenue and Broadway. We saw lots of skyscrapers, and went in loads of shops, but apart from my cool new Skechers I didn’t actually buy anything. American clothes were so BORING. If I want checked shirts and chinos I can buy those at home thank you very much.

    The shopping was not wasted time however, as several US stores apparently employ hot, semi-clad male and female greeters who entice you in and then stand there letting you drool over them. Principally I’m talking about Abercrombie & Fitch, and Hollisters. Behold the hotness:

    And once you’ve walked around looking at all the hot boys (and girls dancing in stairwells in bikinis) you can swan back out again obviously without buying anything, and they STILL wish you a nice day.
    – We went to a couple of museums: the Museum of Modern Art (the MoMa), where we saw lots of famous paintings by famous people. There was also an ‘artist’ woman who had decided that sitting in a chair in a red dress staring into space for three months counted as art. The museum apparently agreed, but it all seemed rather pointless to me, as she was obviously just sitting there wondering what to have for her tea. I liked this piece though:

    And we went to the Museum of Sex, which was good for a giggle. I learnt about female anatomy:

    And Chris learnt about sex toys:

    – We went to quite a few different bars for drinkies. Some were very good (a bar called Pieces in particular), and some were crap (The Duplex). The Duplex was a pretentious piano bar where the drinks were over-priced, and they kept passing round this stupid fucking plastic top-hat to try to solicit tips for the pianist. Frankly, after paying £10 for two drinks AND having to tip the barmaid on top of that, we weren’t prepared to give them any more money. “Has everybody had the hat?” they kept asking expectantly. Yes we had had the hat, and we passed it straight onto the next person thank you very fucking much. We didn’t stay there long.
    Pieces, on the other hand, had some excellent reasons to stay there, including this:

    And I met @plaintruthiness whom I know from Twitter there too. I think that’s the first person I know from Twitter that I’ve met in real life actually.
    I had one night where I over-indulged and threw up everywhere when we got back to the hotel, and consequently one day with a shocking SHOCKING hangover, but other than that I coped fairly well given my general wussiness and lightweightedness.
    – What else… oo yes, we saw Chicago on Broadway, which was fab! I knew nothing at all about the story, and so it was all new to me and I really really enjoyed it. Plus it had the third not-quite-so-famous one from Destiny’s Child in it (not Beyoncé, not Kelly Rowland, the other one. Michelle summink) in one of the lead roles.

    And I think that’s about it! I’m obviously really pleased that we got back before the volcano erupted, as I’m not sure I’d fancy being stuck abroad indefinitely. Chris’ brother and sister-in-law are currently trapped in Fuerteventura, but I think they’re OK and the tour operator is looking after them, and so there are worse things.
    I’ve been back at work for half a day now, and it’s been alriiiiiiiiight, it could be worse, but it’s still pretty crappy compared to swanning about in New York and photographing hot boys.
    I have lots of other things I should write about that aren’t New York-related, but I shall save those for later.

  7. Sun, vodka, boys and insects

    November 2, 2009 by superlative

    I had a lovely time in Gran Canaria, and the weather did indeed stay nice for us. It was closer to 80 degrees sometimes I think, so I was even grateful for the bit of cloud we had towards the end of the week.

    We were only there for five days, but to be honest that was quite enough for me. It’s a rare occasion now that I’d want to go out two nights in a row, so going out five nights in a row was quite a struggle for me. Thank goodness all I had to do in the daytime afterwards was lay on a plastic sun lounger in my skimpies for hours in end (see photo).
    For those of you who haven’t been to Gran Canaria before, it really is your basic sun and booze holiday. There’s not actually that much else to do there, although you can hire a car and go inland if you want to, which we’ve done in previous years. But all we did this time was get up late, sunbathe, go out for dinner at reasonably priced restaurants where you have to sit on patio furniture, drink vodka from the Spar, and then go out bar hopping around the Yumbo Centre. It was great. The only thing that could have been improved really was that there weren’t that many fit boys there this year. There were some, mostly fit waiters, but I think some people have been put off by how expensive the euro is right now. Plus of course it was half term, and what kind of fool goes on holiday in half term unless they have to? Such is my lot as the wife of a teacher.
    Oh yes, and the other thing that could have been improved was that they could have put a tent over the whole island and fumigated it before we arrived. I got SO many mosquito bites! I had about 20 in the end, and some of them have only just gone down. So with them, plus the cockroaches who occasionally scuttle across your bungalow floor, I’d had quite enough of insects by the time we left.
    Our accommodation was nice, we stayed at Club Mancha which is right by the Yumbo Centre where all the gay bars are. It’s a small complex of about 12 bungalows around a pool. The staff there were really friendly, and I couldn’t fault it really. I’d definitely go there again, but having been to Gran Canaria about four times now I think maybe we should try another destination next time we go away.
    I was exhausted by the time we got home from all the going out, so it is actually sort of nice to be back at work where I can sit down all day and drink tea. I’ve got a bit of tan but not loads as I didn’t want to burn, but at least it has given me a bit of colour for the winter. Chris, of course, has turned into a sub-saharan African again because he tans really quickly, so he’ll probably still be tanned long after mine has faded. It’s a shame I can’t really pull of Nicole Kidman-esque pale beauty, it would be so much easier for me! I just go pink in the sun. No danger of that though now that I’m back. Still, Christmas is just around the corner, so I shall look forward to that now instead.

  8. Bye bye summer

    September 2, 2009 by superlative

    It feels like the summer holidays are well and truly over now. For the first time in ages, I woke up this morning and it was too gloomy to see my alarm clock properly. It was raining outside, and the whole world looked grey. Chris has gone back to work, the kids are back at school from tomorrow, and pretty much that means it’s now autumn and the summer is over.

    I’m not one of those people who bleats on about us ‘not getting a proper summer this year’ though. It’s actually been very hot at times, including very early on around April or May when it was roasting hot and I got sunburn. Admittedly, it has also been quite a wet summer, and there were long periods of howling wind and rain, but I’ve managed to get quite a good tan and spend a fair bit of time sat on the beach, so it’s not all bad.
    Work will slowly start to pick up pace again now. The first students (the PGCE ones) will be starting next week I think, and then soon after that the international students will arrive, and then the freshers. I hope there are some fit ones, it has been ages since there has been any proper eye candy on campus. The university is thoroughly dull during the vacations – it’s not the best place for facilities normally, and in the holidays what little there is closes so there’s nothing at all! There’s not even a proper bar here, what kind of campus is that?? So it’ll be nice once there’s a bit of life on campus again.
    We’re hoping to go away on holiday in half term, having not had a proper trip away in quite a while. We were thinking Sitges, but that won’t be all that sunny in October apparently, so we might go to Gran Canaria again with some of our friends. At least that’ll be something to look forward to as the depression of the autumn term sets in.
    This morning I am amusing myself by trying out Tumblr, which is a blog engine type thing. It seems quite good – it’s mostly for sharing pictures and videos and things, and then you re-post ones you like from other people’s Tumblr pages. I was hoping there would be an easy way of importing my posts on it into here, but there doesn’t seem to be. I don’t really want to run two different blogs, but I like the way Tumblr works, and it has a prettier interface than Blogger (which is frankly quite ugly). I’ll see if I start using it properly before I worry about that anyway. In the meantime, here is a really REALLY pretty boy that I found on there. He’s so yummy that I just want to bite him. Is that weird?

  9. A damp and drunken Pride

    August 5, 2009 by superlative

    It was Brighton Pride last weekend. While I always enjoy it, I’m not quite as mad on it as some people seem to be – looking forward to it all year, updating their Facebook for the month before it with “13 sleeps to go until Pride!”, and then running round ejaculating “Happy Pride! Happy Pride!” at everyone on the day. It’s quite fun, but it’s not THAT good…

    This year it was slightly spoiled by the very ill-timed weather. Friday? Lovely. Sunday? Lovely. Saturday? Heavy rain on and off from 1pm until 8pm. So not great, I have to say.
    It stayed dry for the parade at least, as it would have been rather miserable to see the rain slowly dissolve people’s papier maché outfits into sloppy goo. They said it was the “biggest and best parade ever”, but they always say that, and I found most of the floats rather mediocre. Lots of the gay bars who normally do floats didn’t even bother this year, so it was primarily political parties, public services, and a couple of banks.
    The Conservative Party excelled itself though by having some of the fittest boys on their float, including a rather nice one in red shorts. He spotted us taking lots of photos of him (and then catching up with the float later on and taking some more) and he waved lots in an appreciative manner.

    I was rather disappointed to see that the Labour Party parade people, aside from being exceptionally sub par in appearance, were wearing stupid red t-shirts that proclaimed “Never kissed a Tory – never will.” So pathetic! What has that got to do with Pride? And they clearly hadn’t seen the boy on the Conservative float before making that commitment… I’d kiss him. I’d kiss him good. But honestly, it’s ridiculous the amount of negative campaigning Labour supporters indulge in – half the time they don’t even mention their own policies, they just campaign on a platform of ‘You have to vote for us or the mean old Tories will get in’. Tsk. Anyway, I digress.
    We did go up to the park for a while, but after sheltering from the rain in the Wild Fruit tent for 40 minutes we decided it wasn’t really worth the effort and we bailed out.
    The street parties in the evening are always much more fun anyway, and as usual ours was one of the roads they closed for it. It’s ever so convenient to live just upstairs from all the action, and it’s rather economical too as you can just bring your own drinks from home. So we spent a fair bit of the evening just wandering around Kemp Town checking out hot boys and emptying out our drinks cabinet.
    The mixture of champagne, wine, vodka, cookie dough-flavoured shots and cider did take its toll on me though, and by 1.30am I was rather out of it. I remember being sat on the kerb on my road for quite a bit, while a girl angrily told me that the pollips up her nose were preventing her from taking her coke. I didn’t really like that, so I staggered off to bed, and was fortunately too drunk to care about the remaining noise from the street.
    On Sunday I felt really rather ill, but I did manage a walk in the sun, and an alcohol-free hour or two in the daytime street parties they have on the Sunday afternoon. I did my usual thing of swearing off booze for a while, but it only lasted until 9pm when I had a glass of wine “to finish it up because it’s open” and “to help me sleep” (both good excuses).
    It wasn’t the best Pride I’ve been to, mostly because of the rain, but it was quite good. It made us appreciate our flat and our location a bit more again too, so I think we might stay put a bit longer before we worry to much about moving.

  10. Christian Cooke can smite me any time he likes

    June 18, 2009 by superlative

    And by ‘smite’ I mean ‘do’.

    And by ‘do’ I mean ‘have sex with’.

    Because my last post was so dull and finance-oriented, I’ve decided to lighten the mood by posting some pictures of international hottie Christian Cooke, star of the mediocre Buffy ripoff Demons, and soon-to-be-star of new series Trinity.