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Thursday, February 05, 2004

Declan Cummins - A Celebration. Almost.

My Evil Best Friend Declan and I had a puzzling moment last night whilst on the phone. Both languishing on our beds, we were flicking through our old diaries to try and pinpoint the day where we had met. I can recall it through the mists of time quite clearly: while holding court with some strangers, I happened to mention a former Doctor Who companion. This prompted someone across the room to yell, “Mary Tamm is a bitch!” where upon I turned to see this six-foot-six creature looming over to me. He introduced himself and started insulting my wardrobe. I knew he was going to be a close friend from there on in.

But as we sat there, trawling through old relationships and mistakes via the written page, to what year this all occurred was proving to be a mystery. He thought it was 1994, and so this was supposed to be our ten-year anniversary. But it didn’t fit with what our diaries held (mine being Barbara Cartland in style, his: Edgar Allan Poe). Could it be that it’s only nine years after all? My word.

Still. Nine years this month. That’s still worth a party! So, rather than a full celebration of the ginger lord of Evil, we at Glitter for Brains have collated some of Declan’s best lines over the ten, ahem, nine years that he’s been in our lives! We present the Declan and Lee Clip Show!

Regarding an unusually happy female co-worker:
“Well. Either she's bought some new batteries or the dog has learned some new tricks”

Replying to lady-colleague on WeightWatchers:
“I lost 3 pounds last month.”
“What happened? Did you shave your legs?”

When his past boyfriend got a futon, Declan was a little dismayed. They are almost impossible to sleep on. He found a way, of course:
“I have this technique to getting comfy on a futon. You lie back, twist, and take a fist-full of valium.”

The reason he and I are such good friends is not that we have so many common interests, or similar attitudes to everything. No, after almost a decade, we have so much dirt on each other

Leaning against a door jam, drink in hand, to host:
“Enjoying the party? To enjoy this party you would have had to live your life in a cupboard.”

Regarding an overweight man coming into the bar
“My! Its the face that ate a thousand chips.”

After meeting a friend of mine at a party:
“What a lovely friend you have there. Lets hope something runs over her.”

“Who does your hair? The council?”

Being the dutiful son, Declan brought his Irish-Catholic mother a Daniel O’Donnell CD for Christmas. She was so excited that she unwrapped it early.
“Oooh,” she cooed. “Guess what you'll be listening to on Christmas day!”
“My walkman,” said he.

“The best thing about you? You're mortal.”

We were discussing what would happen if he ever went to court. He would plead thus:
“Yes, I am guilty. But I have let go of it.”

The sun was shining, the gays were out. It was London Gay Pride, and dear Declan was sitting on the grass, surveying the action. Gracefully, he placed his fag back in his gob, and clicked his fingers, announcing:
“Bring me the love of a dirty man.”

“My brother asked me what I wanted for my leaving present. I asked for a dialysis machine. Well, he works in a hospital and it would be criminal not to use the connections...”

His delightful description of Leicester Gay Mardi Gras:
“They were having this parade or something, and frankly, I’ve had shits that move faster. And there was a field with a couple of tents - 'Gay Men Against Bad Fashion' - fighting a losing battle there, and the lesbian book tent. I took one look at it, grabbed a steward and yelled ‘point me to the beer tent.’”


(applause from audience, host wipes tear from eye)
Ho, they are good, aren’t they? Well, lets raise our Babycham glasses to Declan, and his nine years! And lets take this moment to appreciate why this friendship has gone on so long. Not because we have very similar interests. Nor because we have the same outlook on life. No, it’s simply that we have so much dirt on each other after all this time, that it would be very stupid to become enemies.

To solidarity through blackmail! (chink!)

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