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

Friday, April 24, 2009

Surprise Guest Star

So the strangest day so far. There was a guy who turned up at the gym who happened to be the spitting image of Derek Reese, of whom I do fancy. Actually perhaps fancy is a bit lenient a word; I kinda phase out whenever he's on screen. I mean seriously, there's whole swathes of 'Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles' that are a mystery to me as Reese is on, only snapping back into focus whenever The Shirley-1000 comes on to talk about picking up Savannah from gym class.

If you haven't seen any 'Sarah Connor, go dig some out on YouTube - you can guarantee any scene with Reese will start with him running into the room, breathing heavily like "Action!" has just been called while he was in the middle of chopping wood while topless outside his trailer (bites knuckle). And anything with ShirleyBot in it, particularly ones with her daughter in it. You'll be several units of Gay heavier with her scenes; units clearly measured on the Sontag Scale.

Back to Reese. Here's a pic of him so you can see what I mean.



Yes? I would. Til his legs dropped off.

So anyway, there he was, skinny white shorts, grunting and grinning around the weights. What's a boy to do? Except attempt the splits with a coquettish smile on one's face, then scissor-kicking your leg-warmers to the 'Fame!' soundtrack you always work out to.

And yet the coffee I just bought in an almost post-coital whirl tastes of cat pee. The Lord giveth...

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

I Wonder Why...

...no matter how hard I train at the gym, I still run like C-3PO being chased by Jawas.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Technological Zeitgeist

Guys With iPhones NSFW

I think you know my thoughts on Apple by now. I can't abide their smug 'ta-daaaa!' whenever they start up, and the design that makes them look like giant Quality Street. But now there's a site that fetishises them as much as the male form, so clearly I'll have a look. But I don't know what's got into me (well, I do know - a handsome 23-year-old intent on celebrating our anniversary with a bang) but I look at these and my first thought was 'Ooh, isn't the camera shit on the iPhone?' They all look like they have liver failure. And have been taken through a sock at forty paces.

Although this is clearly the next Mrs Binding. I mean, look. He's not even capable of focusing on anything. And who takes their iPhone swimming? Bless. If only the site came with their phone numbers too... If anything, I'd drop them a line to say "Why on earth do you have headphones in while taking cock shots? And what where you listening to?"

Me? I always put on Donna Summer's 'Enough is Enough'. Just so you know.

Know Your Audience

Oh honey. You really must pay attention. Yes you, darling Miss California, when you were asked about gay marriage at a beauty pageant! Come on, even you should have to realise who is watching! There'd be no heterosexual man paying any attention past the swimsuit round, leaving you with a room full of queens who are only there to see the hair, the make-up and whether you're going to fall on your ass in those heels! Maybe you were dazzled by the bright lights, or maybe you were trying to recall passages from Scarlett Johansson's seminal works 'How I Model Good' (you know, the life changing chapter on 'How I Smile And Think And Stuff And Stuff'). But I'm surprised the stage wasn't rushed and your weave pulled, although we were probably too busy in the back row raising the Devil or lowering property prices or something.

I mean, honestly, you would have gotten more respect if you'd been asked about Stephen Hawkin's current illness and have said "Oh, I'm sure he'll be back on his feet in no time."

Friday, April 17, 2009

Jordan

Katie Price. I think I like her, but I'm not sure why. And then this comes along about her leaving LA and not missing the sun.

Note the startling use of plurals in the last line. 'Sunbeds'. She has sunbeds.

Is this in case someone pulls the door to on one of the tanning rooms? Because I imagine that dear Katie seems the kind of girl who would not only forget how to use doorknobs, but upon seeing it, drop to her knees and fellate it in the hope it would do something for her in return.

Oh wait. I've now figured out why I like her.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

New Thing On The Block

We always call Prowler in Soho 'The Gay Supermarket' as you can pretty much get all you need from there: lube, porn, porn disguised as art, poppers, impossibly-tight underwear and expensive t-shirts that say 'I Have No Gag Reflex'. It's all so convenient! A handy one-stop-shop for everything you'll need for a night out then a night in, if you get my meaning.

Well! There's a new outlet opened around the corner, and I thought we'd got it good under one roof before. But this - THIS! - is a gym and sauna! Oh my word, someone's finally found the gap in the market for those lumpen men who have a bit of a workout, feel a bit frisky on the steroids and boff whatever's around before heading back in for their cool-down! Or in my case, do a step class and get confused as to where you are when you have a towel around your waist on the way to the showers. Well, we've all done it..! There's something slightly primal about the whiff of sweat and chlorine whilst feeling the rough texture of white towelette around your hips that's just enough to get the sap rising, I find.

Honestly, we have it good, don't we? Gym and sauna? All we need is a farmer's market built on, and a place to buy those baggy cargo shorts and there'd be no need to shop anywhere else. Hell, put a Mazda Miata dealership on the side and I think I'll move in.

Thursday, April 09, 2009

Legal Brief

Just finished 'Boston Legal' Season 4. Ah, what a fine show! A show that makes you think - and not just about whether Adam Baldwin goes commando as I do throughout 'Firefly's apparently well-crafted storytelling. The one thing I have to say against 'Boston Legal' is its obsession for focusing in on hands when people are talking in a way that is almost fetishistic. Fine; forgivable even. But what I do take against is that star James Spader has just dumpy, smooth lady-hands - hands that would not have looked out of place on Mr Stay-Puft, the marshmallow man. So when he delivers his wonderful, eloquent closing arguments, I keep thinking that someone's going to cross the streams and the whole place is going to get covered like an Ibiza foam party. Or like Lindsay Lohan's knickers now she's back on the cock after now finishing her clamming up with her Lezzay Fair.

Where was I? I'm sorry, I made myself sick up a little in my mouth there. Trials, yes! I seemed to recall this one incident that I believe went to court where a man went in for an interview, got invited out for drinks afterwards by the male interviewee, and the next thing he knows is he's waking up in hotel bed with said interviewer after having done the Beast-With-One-Back (as we gays tend to) with his potential employer. Now, I can't remember any more about it than that - whether he was guilty or not, or more importantly whether either of them were hot - so if you do recall the incident feel free to post a link in the comments box. The reason why I was mulling it over was how would I defend the employer, because frankly he made several mistakes if he was guilty. One, you don't hire a hotel room, you go back to theirs. You don't wake up with them in the morning. And most importantly, you DO NOT do this sort of thing in an interview. No, you wait til they're employed, and then go at it at the Christmas party like a dog at broth.

Like I say, something smelt fishy about the whole thing (back off Lindsay, this isn't for you). I reckon in my ill-considered opinion that it could have been an attempt to get up the corporate ladder by putting out for a potential boss. What? Why you looking at me like that? Oh yes, I've done some things I'd rather forget to get my foot on the corporate ladder - in fact climbing just high enough so that you could see right up my towelette robe. And I do say this clutching my pearls in a moment of vulnerability as I recall the terrible sheets in that Slough Travelodge. Oh the things we do for a head start in the giddy world of business...

In short, I doubt you'd have had to drug me if it comes to an interview to get the job. I'd be the one up the bar afterwards going "This is my drink here. This one! The sparkling cava. Yes, it has bubbles so I can't tell if anything is dissolving in it! And did I tell you I have no sense of smell? At all? And that I'll repeatedly turn my back to check my phone! Yes, this drink! That's it - the very one with the funnel hanging out the top!"

Because who hasn't been into work the following day on more roofies than it needs to take down a racehorse? I mean honestly, I was so spaced that the only way they could get me to work was disguising the project I was on as a Facebook application.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Congratulations!

You're lucky visitor #69 this very day!

Now take a guess to what you've won.

Friday, April 03, 2009

Repainting the Hull

Well, apparently the UK is gripped in 'Michelle Obama Fever' at the moment. Honeys, no. No we're not. I've seen drag queens with more realistic hair.

And speaking of which, did you see what was going on with Queen Latifa?! She's being sued for apparently not paying her stylist! The horror!

Well, I have a lot of time for Queen L. And lets not give any credence to the rumours going around that she's a big ol' lezzy dish-licker. You won't get me stooping so low to point out that she may like a bit of the old Kit-Kat Shuffle (you know, four fingers then take a break) with a member of the same sex, because if she does then good for her. Oh yes, if she wants to look good for any man - or woman - then that's brilliant. But, bugger me backwards with a copy of 'Donnie Darko', sued for by her stylist for$1 million dollars?

What exactly is she doing? Granted she has some of the plumpest lady-bumps in Hollywood, but are they so large that they are like the Sydney Harbour Bridge - you get to one side and have to go back to the beginning and start painting again? Or is it cosmetic and does she naturally have a face that looks like Bill Nighy's nutsack on a hot day or what? I haven't been this confused and unsure since 'Mi Chico Latino'-era Geri Halliwell.

I sympathize to an extent; I do have a need for the odd facial scrub due to my T-Zone being so oily. Like seriously, it's a real heath hazard. I can be face-down on a pillow and one shunt too hard from a gentleman caller can cause me to skid right off into the wall. It's a peril, it really is. I should be claiming on the NHS.

So $1 million dollars is an awful lot of make up. Which is odd because I didn't think that make-up was used at all by dy-