Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Thursday, May 13, 2004


I wandered past the television last night, wet from the shower and clad only in a skimpy towel. While this detail is unimportant, I can now assume that 80% of you have now been sick, while the other 20% have reached for a tissue. It is correct to assume that this 20% are the ones that talk to you on busses and wear tin-foil hats, you know.

Anyway, I happened to sit down and waggle the aerial (not a euphemism), I noticed that the UK version of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was on. Now, I used to really like the US Queer Eye, until my favourite ex pointed out the one flaw in it:

"Oh my gad!"


"Oh! My! Gaaaaaaaad!"




And repeat ad nauseam for a full hour.

Heaven forefend if there's ever a drinking game.

Anyway, this UK version. I have decided that I don't like it when there is more than three Squealing Men With Nice Nails in the room. Gays Of A Certain Volume should be made to communicate by semaphore. I suppose I'll allow them the Pride Flag to do it BUT ONLY IF THERE ARE NO EXTRAVAGANT ARM GESTURES.

Sigh. I do dislike it when I have to interact with the overly moisturised maries with any self-pretence of celebrity about them.


One day - yes, one day - I shall become self-aware.

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