Monday, June 18, 2007

An Awkward Situation

Actually I’ve been meaning to post about this for quite a while, but I always had something to post that was a little more important or prevalent in my mind, and then with exam season back in its full fury, its got shelved.

So there is this guy called, well let’s call him Buck Stevens (in protection of the innocent, or rather not so innocent - whatever). So Buck comes into the Bank to open a new account and we are talking about what he will need to open an account, ie. Passport, Driving Licence, etc. So point blank he asks if I can open his account rather than him coming back and seeing someone else instead.

I’m quite the nice guy, so I say yeah just come in and ask for me. One thing that I dislike is when someone reads my name off my name badge at work and thinks that since they know my name that they are my best friend. Well Buck firmly falls into that category. He uses my name in practically every sentence that comes out of his mouth. You know like ‘Amit you’re so funny’, ‘Amit your such a joker’, ‘Amit seriously don’t go there’, etc.

So anyways he returns and when my colleague, the one I called LC (Love Child) informs him that she’ll be opening his account coz I’m with another customer, he insists on waiting for me, despite the fact that I’ll be a good 2 hours as I have 2 appointments one after the other.

So when I get around to him, I make small talk as I go through the account opening process. He asks me loads of questions – how long I’ve worked there, etc. After his account is opened I bid him farewell but he seems reluctant to leave, and have I explain that I already have someone waiting so I can’t spend anymore time with him. On parting I give him my card and he notices it does not have my mobile number on it. He asks if he can have it so if he has any problems he can ring me directly. I explain I’ve chosen to not have a work phone in order to leave work at work as I leave the doors after we’ve closed.

The following week he turns up and asks to speak specially to me, again as I’m forever busy at work, so seeing me means he has to wait, which he seems happy to do. After I speak to him I realise really he is just wasting my time but in politeness I give him a few moments of my time. This continues week after week, and it gets to the point where I actually think he is stalking me whilst I am at home. Several times I’ve ‘accidently’ bumped into him outside the branch as I’m locking up. I obviously know he is gay because he has this look of pleasure upon seeing me and I have to physically drag myself away from him in order to escape. Also he has now on several occasions asked the other staff members for my mobile number.

This charade carries on for a few more weeks and one week he turns up with a woman in tow. He informs me that this is his wife. I recall him saying he was engaged to someone when he opened his account, but I imagined said fiancée would be a bloke. I’m shocked and I can see from his face that he looks worried but not wanting to interfere in his marriage I say nothing. But the shock at him having a wife is obviously clear on my face. She is very pretty and a genuinely warm person. He wishes to add her to his sole account and I oblige. The following week he turns up on his own and on one of those very rare days I’m not busy and he asks if he can have a word in private. At this point I really don’t know what to say… it was quite a while ago so I’m not the exact conversation but it went something like this:

Me: Hi Buck. (We are suppose to call customers by their title and surnames – but I hate this and always use their first names unless they are much much older than I am)
Buck: Hi Amit. How are you?
Me: I’m fine. How is your wife Buck? (I stress this and he notices)
Buck: She is well. Can I ask you something Amit
Me: Sure.
Buck: If I were to ask you out would you say yes? (I must admit I’m thrown by this)
Me: Buck you’re a married man
Buck: You didn’t answer the question Amit. Would you?
Me: No Buck I wouldn’t (which is the truth, esp since I now know he is married)
Buck: Oh. Why? Oh forget it I’m just being silly, it’s not like such a handsome guy like you wouldn’t have a girlfriend.
Me: I don’t have a girlfriend Buck. (I’m unsure if I should tell him I’m gay)
Buck: Amit I think I’m in love with you (OH FUCK I think – awkward is not strong enough to describe this situation). I shouldn’t have said that. (I’m at a loss for words)
Me: Buck you’re married AND you have a wife AND not a civil partner as I had originally thought.
Buck: I know. You said you don’t have a girlfriend, why is that? (This is not a direct question asking if I’m gay but I wonder if I can answer this question without lying about my sexuality…. I struggle to find an answer)
Me: I’m gay Buck. So not having a girlfriend is normal.
Buck: Really? So you have a boyfriend then?
Me: No.
Buck: Then you’d go out with me if I weren’t married (FUCK I think – this is obviously heading towards a direction I don’t want to go towards – so unsure of what to say I remain silent:
Buck: I’d leave her for you Amit. I swear I would. (At this point I have no doubt in my mind that he is serious)
Me: Buck but you’ve been married only a few months. (I had a look at his marriage cert the week before) And I’ve met your wife, she is lovely, I couldn’t do that to her. (As soon as I’ve said this I realise I’ve chosen the wrong series of words to respond with.. I’ve given him hope that we could work out if his wife is not in the picture)
Buck: Are you saying you would go out with me, if she were not my wife?
Me: No Buck. I couldn’t. (Again the ‘couldn’t’ gives him hope and I scowl myself mentally)
Buck: Oh Amit what am I gonna do? (He breaks down into tears at this point but I maintain a hard stare and don’t comfort him)
Me: Buck I think you need to go home and think on this with a clear mind. This is not a healthy start to a marriage and I think you owe your wife a lot more than asking out a guy in a bank.
Buck: I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry. (He stops crying). I think I should leave.
Me: I think you’re right.
I was in silence as he leaves. I don’t walk him to the door as I normally do for my customers.

3 weeks pass and his wife comes into the branch. She stops and speaks to me. We’re near closing and I’ve refused to see anymore customers, so I’m roaming the branch aimlessly. She does not mention Buck and asks me what I’m up to this weekend. I tell her I have exams coming up. And she wishes me luck.

This weekend was the first week I’ve worked since that week and one of the staff tells me Buck is here and wants to see me. I come out immediately and fob him off. He says he’ll come back next week when I have more time.

Now what do I do? He is a handsome guy, but I’ve had enough of being a third wheel and I’m not about to get into a tangle with some bloke who has a wife. No matter how cute he is. I think he has issues he and his wife need to talk about, but where does this leave me. I’ve spoken to my manager about this and he thinks I should avoid him at all costs and asked if I want him to close his account.

I’m unsure and so I said I’d think about it. So what does one do in such an awkward position? Closing his account seems a bit drastic and I’m unsure of how Buck will explain to his wife the bank closed their joint account. Opinions please….

Sunday, June 17, 2007

Prank Video

Came across this on YouTube - its pretty hilarious. Check it out.

Saturday, June 16, 2007

Videos

Its too early to do a proper post, and in typical me fashion I'm ten minutes away from having to leave home to get to work on time, and I'm still far from ready, in fact I'm having breakfast and my work shirt is not even ironed yet and yet here I am on eBlogger - boy do I need to get my priorities sorted.

Anyways I might not get a chance to post the rest of the weekend, so I thought I'd leave you with a couple of the fittest men alive, Ricky Martin and Enrique Iglesias.

Ricky Martin might be getting old but as he shows here, he still has got that SEX FACTOR and it ain't waned in the slightest. Here he is performing Cup Of Life, off his first album.

And then there is Enrique, who is performing at GAY, here in London, and instead of seranading a girl/woman, he has picked out a bloke (man am I insanely jealous) and is seranading him instead. Fuck me, its so very hot.

I think I have a weakness for Latino men.

And I'm looking for a third one (which I haven't yet found sadly) that a friend sent me on DVD, of the Scissor Sisters performing live. And well Jake Shears is only wearing a bath towel wrapped around his waist and fuck it slips on several occasions, I was so fucking horny watching that. I've known Jake to perform in a towel and pull it off to be wearing briefs/boxers but well when he pulls if off on this performance there are no boxers/briefs in sight (obviously he ain't facing the audience but well its pretty fucking hot nonetheless) Jake Shears is soooooo hot.



Friday, June 15, 2007

Awww... The Sky Is Crying

The last few days have been pretty emotional for me.

Tuesday saw Nick and Rabbit leave, and yesterday marked the 9th anniversary of my uncle's death. Its amazing how much time has passed since he died, and yet it only feels like yesterday when we would talk in the kitchen at midnight every single night, without a care that both of us would have to be up at 6AM the next morning. And then would come the token yell from my aunt stressing that I had school the next morning - it was always the thing that dispersed us (both of us suffered from 'verbal diarrhea'... as we use to call it) - I'd head straight to bed and my uncle towards the bathroom, it was a daily routine.

As we do each and every year on the 14th June, we went to the temple. He loved the 'Hare Krishna Temple', and so we payed several thousand pounds in donation and every 14th June the temple keep a picture of my uncle in the main temple area and all food distributed to the temple's visitors is noted to be in his memory.

I think sometimes family make the emotional state worse. Having known it would be a very emotional day for me, they continuously kept asking me if I was ok, which I was until they started asking and then well I wasn't.

Its amazing how you think your ok, and feel your handling things ok, and then it takes one person to ask how you are and it all goes to shit.

Anyways I'm much better today.

On a brighter note, I'm planning on spending a couple nights next week at a friend's, she asked me to help her babysit when her husband is on a course in Edinburgh. She was saying how she has no idea how she'll cope and practically begged me to stay with her.

PS - The above picture is of 'Pon', the other blue one that will appear on my blog time to time (as appropriate) is Zi, they are illustrations by Jeff Thomas. I've featured the work of Jeff Thomas once before here. He is my favourite illustrator - I don't think he likes the term artist much, but get this he is only 18 (and gay)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

The Indistinction Between Joy & Sorrow

Apologies for the long essay.

So yesterday was suppose to be a day of sheer bliss. It was the final day of my exams and I had plans to let go and dance the night away (not quite but close enough), but its funny how life never turns out as you plan it. I found yesterday to be a day of bitter-sweetness (I’m not sure that is even a word but who cares!). My exams were over and I was ecstatic, my mood was high… and everything that goes up well HAS to come down.

Anyways getting to the point - ironic is in a nutshell exactly what this post is, especially after the previous post.

I think in my mind there are several kinds of friends:
1. Ones you don’t really need an excuse to meet up with and thus do so very frequently.
2. Friends you meet face to face when an opportunity presents itself (ie. birthdays, randomly, weddings, etc).
3. Friends you never meet face to face for multiple reasons (ie. they live/work/study abroad, commitments, not out-going type, etc). These are the kind of friends you send emails, text or phone just to keep in touch.

Most of my friends fall into category 2 and 3. That’s not to say that I don’t have friends or anything, its just I only have a handful of friends who I hook up with for the sheer hell of it. Anyone who reads my blog will have heard mention of Nick, well him, Rabbit and Dee are the only ones I’d slot into category 1.

So yesterday as I walk out of my exam and my phone is going back to life after I had switched it on, well it tells me I have a voicemail message. I dial my voicemail and its Nick. The message is ‘Amit we need to talk’, now in all the years I’ve known Nick, well I’ve only ever been left a message like that once, and that was so personal for him that I’ll not mention it here. But the tone of his voice leaves no question about it - I know something is up, something huge.

I get home, throw my stuff onto my bed and make my way to him. I try to ring him but it goes to voicemail. I leave a message to call me back. When I get to his house I use the front door key he has given me, since he didn’t answer when I rang him from home I grabbed it before leaving. I have not used his front door key in about 2 years, as once I walked in on him having sex with his then girlfriend Kelly (but that’s another story) so I don’t even know if it will work, but upon trying it. I find the door swings open.

SHOCK ONE

His apartment is empty. There is nothing anywhere except a settee. And I realise what his problem is - his apartment was broken into and all his stuff stolen.

Its exactly as that thought dawns on me that my phone rings. The conversation goes something like this:

N: Hey
A: Dude they got your TV. Fuck.
N: Where are you? How’d you get in?
A: I have your key, remember?
N: Oh. I’ll be there in 2 minutes, stay put.

Confused I wonder what he means. Where am I gonna go I wonder. Ten minutes later Nick turns up with Rabbit in tow. Its incredible how long ten minutes feels when you’re in someone else’s apartment and there is no TV.

Nick: We need to talk.

That tone AGAIN.

A: Whatsup?
N: About that job, you know the one I mentioned last time.
A: Yeah
N: You know that condition they mentioned
A: Yeah
N: Well… I don’t know how to say it but…

SHOCK TWO

A: You’re moved out!

OK at this point I’m feeling a bit stupid. Coz it hits me that the living room is bare and there are no signs of habitation. He has moved out and not been burgled.

A: Where to?
Nick stays quiet. So I repeat myself this time my voice is razor sharp as I realise what he is implying.

SHOCK THREE

Nick: Ireland buddy.

Now the rest of the conversation has dulled slightly in my mind since yesterday but those words will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I’ll not bore you now but suffice to say I was not polite when I demanded to know why the fuck he kept that from me until now. His response was so surprising that I felt a tear in my eye.

N: Coz of your exams mate. I knew if you knew we were leaving, then you would have wanted to hang out together before we left.

SHOCK FOUR

A: We? As in?

Ok this was a stupid question but I had to say it.

N: Rabbit and I.

Now Rabbit is originally from Ireland and his entire family is there right now, so this is no real prize winning realisation, but as numb as I am, it’s far too difficult to comprehend.

A: When?

SHOCK FIVE

R: Tomorrow morning

Now this is the first time Rabbit has spoken and I don’t think I had realised he was there until then. Now if I was numb before then I can’t illustrate how numb I was now at this point.

N: I know what your thinking but you said…

He is right, I am thinking exactly what he thinks I’m thinking. Going back to October last year I made him apply for this great job. At the time he was in a dead end job with a cunt for a manager doing stuff that he should be getting paid more than twice as much for… so despite thinking he’d never get it and me forcing him to do it… reluctantly he applied. He made it up to the third interview and down to the final two, but lost out against another guy.

Going back 4 weeks now, they rung him up and offered him another role, with as he said ‘certain conditions’ and asked him to come into the office to discuss it further. He rang me before he left and was so very very grateful that I had forced him to apply for that role ages ago. I told him then as I would again if the situation arose ‘what ever the conditions are – take it – it’ll be better than what your doing now’.

The same day was the day I was told Zacky died and when he called me back I was in no mood to talk and he knew this. So he never did get around to telling me this until now. He knew if he told me so close to my exams, that I’d have dumped revising and insisted on spending time together. I’d never have let him move without lending a hand.

So yesterday for me was a very bittersweet day. I had to say goodbye to two very dear friends and with Nick no longer in England, and his flat no longer useable as a hostel Dee who lives
on the English border near Wales will not be coming down to London much either.

We spent the evening together and I dropped them both to the airport earlier this morning.

I did tell him that I’m still glad that he got the job and even if I knew this would have been the outcome, I’d still have forced him to apply for that job. He cried at that. Strong masculine Nick, cried. I hadn’t till that point, but he broke me too, and I shed a few tears for him.

Sadly that is how a great friend who you piss about with so very often becomes a friend who you keep in touch with via a phone. And I’m not gonna kid myself, coz I’ve had far too many friends who don’t live in London or England or UK for that matter, who used to but don't anymore, become email/text/phone buddies instead of the type you hang around with.

An end of an era. Now should I be happy I’d known them or sad that I’ve lost them?

I’m going with - happy I’ve known them.

Monday, June 11, 2007

Are you A Real Friend?

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Never ask for food
REAL FRIENDS: Are the reason you have no food

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Call your parents Mr/Mrs
REAL FRIENDS: Call your parents DAD/MOM

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Bail you out of jail and tell you what you did was wrong
REAL FRIENDS: Would sit next to you sayin "Damn … we fucked up … but that shit was fun!"

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Never seen you cry
REAL FRIENDS: Cry with you

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Borrow your stuff for a few days then give it back
REAL FRIENDS: Keep your shit so long they forget its yours

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Know a few things about you
REAL FRIENDS: Could write a book about you with direct quotes from you

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Will leave you behind if that is what the crowd is doing
REAL FRIENDS: Will kick the whole crowds ass that left you

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Would knock on your front door
REAL FRIENDS: Walk right in and say "I’M HOME!"

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Are for awhile
REAL FRIENDS: Are for life

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Will take your drink away when they think you’ve had enough
REAL FRIENDS: Will look at you stumbling all over the place and say "Bitch drink the rest of that you know we don’t waste."

FAKE ASS FRIENDS: Will talk shit to the person who talks shit about you.
REAL FRIENDS: Will knock them the fuck out

Apologies for the last few space fillers (thats what I call these non proper posts) but with the fact that my exams will soon be over - I'll post proper soon, promise!

Sunday, June 10, 2007

20 Things To Do In An Exam When You're Gonna Fail Anyway

1. Get a copy of the exam, run out screaming "Andre, Andre, I've got the secret documents!!"

2. On the answer sheet find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Relate everything to your own life story. Be creative.

3. Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off.

4. Come down with a BAD case of Tourette's Syndrome during the exam. Be as vulgar as possible.

5. Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he's not looking. Blame it on the person nearest to you.

6. Every 5 min. stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam.

7. Turn in the exam approx. 30 min. into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was.

8. Get the exam. 20 min into it, throw your papers down violently, scream out "Fuck this!" and walk out triumphantly.

9. Show up completely drunk (completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you should start crying for mommy). Most important comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day and flirt outrageously, throw yourself at the instructor at least once.

10. Stand up after just 15 minutes before the end, and say loudly, "Okay, let's double-check our answers! Number one, A. Number two, C. Number three, E...."

11. Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 min, put on a white mask and start yelling "I'm here, the phantom of the opera" until they drag you away.

12. Try to get people in the room to do a wave.

13. Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you. Pray to it often.

14. Puke into your exam booklet. Hand it in. Leave.

15. Fake an orgasm. When interrupted, apologize, and point to and explain that the question moved you, deeply.

16. Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About 5 min into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who the hell are you? Where's the regular guy?"

17. Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up!

18. Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why, tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, "The light bulb that goes on above my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!"

19. In the middle of the test, have a friend rush into the classroom, tag your hand, and resume taking your test for you. When the teacher asks what's going on, calmly explain the rules of Tag Team Testing to him/her.

20. Bring cheat sheets FOR ANOTHER CLASS (make sure this is obvious... like history notes for a calculus exam... otherwise you're not just failing, you're getting kicked out too) and staple them to the exam, with the comment "Please use the attached notes for references as you see fit."

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

TAX TAX TAX & MORE TAX

I just had my Adv Tax Exam today.

Not only am I expected to pay tax - I'm also expected to know tax and be examined on it.

Which ultimately won't be that bad - if the examiner was human that is. And set a decent answerable exam. Last sitting the pass rate was 33% and I can easily assume that this sitting it is going to get worse. I hope I'm one of the less than 30 people who pass, but I ain't particularly hopeful coz:

There were six questions.
2 in Section A (compulsory)
4 in Section B (choose 2 out of the 4)

You MUST spend 45 minutes on each question. 3 hours paper!

I spent:
55 minutes on Q1
50 minutes on Q2
5 minutes in sheer panic (I was attempting to decide what options to do)
25 minutes on Q5 (which I abandoned as it was non-salvageable - which translates to I didn't have a fucking clue how to answer it and it took too long to figure that out wasting valuable time)
10 minutes in sheer dum blind panic (again I was trying to decide what options to do and kicking myself for picking the worst one)
20 minutes on Q3 (I didn't do the entire Q - again I didn't have a fucking clue how to answer it or what I was doing)
15 minutes on Q6 (I didn't do the entire Q - again I didn't have a fucking clue how to answer it or what I was doing)

If your maths is good you'll notice that that adds up to 3hrs and 10 minutes. They gave us an extra ten minutes coz some poor bloke had an epileptic fit and disrupted the silence of the exam. Which was in my mind heaven sent, coz it meant I had ten minutes to do Q6 - you need 5 minutes reading the scenario & requirements.

There... now that my rant is done.... I'm off to do some Audit work.

Or better still.... fuck Audit I'm gonna go watch X-Men instead - I brought the entire 1990s TV series on DVD off eBay (it's a fake but it does the trick)

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Repeat After Me... 'PENIS'

You put your penis in, penis out, in out, in out, you shake it all about.
You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around.
That's what it's all about. O the Hokey Cokey. O the Hokey Cokey. O the Hokey Cokey
Knees bent, arms stretched. Raa raa raa

Never heard that one before, or did that at school right? For the girls reading this please replace penis with tit (since there are left tits and right tits you can make use of them individually)

Anyways onto a more serious note… and what this post is all about… penises. I was cruising the net and what do I see… oh wait actually before that… is it only me or what - but it frustrates me to no end how taboo the subject of penises are in most homes. I often wonder and think I’m the only one who doesn’t feel shame at the thought of being naked around others.

Take my mother and aunt for example – is it weird that both have seen my penis when I’m in my twenties… and I’m not talking when I was under 5… I’m talking about having seen it recently! See now if I’m changing or naked in my bedroom I don’t always close my room door, doing so in my mind means I’m hiding something, which I’m not – I have a penis but then I’m a bloke and that is pretty natural - so it confuses me what's to be shy about… don’t get me wrong I don’t expose myself to random strangers on the road or shout ‘look here it’s my penis hanging out’. It’s just well this is my home and I’m comfortable here in my own skin.

I didn’t always think like that and most definitely haven't always been comfortable in my own skin… thinking back when I was in my teens the thought that anyone could catch a glimpse at my penis would have me trembling and shaky – what changed? I had a circumcision and was forced to be naked for a few weeks whilst it healed – wearing something was actually painful and abrasive against the cut. Since then I’m been very blasé about nudity, maybe I’ve finally realised I’m actually really quite comfortable in my own skin.

I most definitely don’t have the body of a Greek God or anything… but I do draw attention when I’m in a sleeveless Tee or specifically dressed to be noticed. So I ain’t exactly the worst thing on the planet to gaze upon.

Anyways I’m drifting again (as normal) – so there I was cruising the net looking for nothing in particular and I come across a site where there are dozens and dozens of pictures of guys who for lack of a better word have no modesty. Penis galore. And amidst this array of penises I spot a familiar one. I swear I recognised it. No shit it was a penis I’ve seen MILLIONS of times…

Now I don’t know how good people are spotting penises but say someone took a picture of your penis and loaded it onto a site with about a hundred others... could you spot yours? I’d think yes. So there staring at me in its full glory was a picture of my penis. I swear I recognise the shape, the head, the cut, the vein and the pubes also funnily enough. But I know for a fact that I’ve never taken a picture of myself like that and I was confused as to how a picture of my penis could appear online without me knowing about it. And the more I looked at it, the more I knew this was definitely mine. And then it hit me. I posed for pictures when some girl I was sleeping with back in my late teens insisted, or rather demanded that I allow her to take pictures of me naked. And I’d obliged, albeit rather reluctantly. She mailed me a set of the pictures and shortly afterwards I met my first to be boyfriend, who discovered said photos and asked for a copy. Since he had already seen me naked I gave him some of the better ones.

So there they were, loaded onto the Internet for all to see. Thankfully none of the photos have headshots, I imagine it was him who loaded them, I can’t imagine it was her who loaded them on a gay site.

So I click this picture of my penis and inside are several more. Body shots, poser-ish shots, close-ups and one of my abs.

The funniest thing is – the shape and definition of my body has not changed. Here are pictures of me from almost 5/6 years ago and I can’t believe but they could have been taken yesterday for how accurate they look. I still have the tracksuit bottoms I was wearing in those pictures, it still fits perfectly and is not worn out (I rarely wear tracksuit bottoms) – for someone who has a perpetual hard-on - trackies do little to hide a hard-on and I feel I might as well be naked for the contour of my penis is clearly visible – a friend once kindly pointed this out, on one of the rare times I was wearing trackies, she said very politely that she could see it clearly and was like your ‘nicely endowed aren’t you’ – I dare not imagine the depth of red on my face.

Anyways I’m drifting AGAIN.

So there are people who have left comments on these pictures and let’s just say they are pretty vivid and imaginative. Some guy (who was quite dishy himself) left a comment regarding strawberry jam and cream – I would have done a direct quote but I tested a google search and said quote was a direct link to said page – and no don’t ask for the direct link – you ain’t getting it!

But I’m a little surprised I’m not furious to discover there are pictures of me naked on the Internet, which were loaded without my permission.

I know there is a certain element to me that is pretty exhibitionist, I recall when I went to Centre Parcs 2 years back, and there was this guy watching me in the pool, who ironically ended up in the locker/changing room exactly at the same time as me. It was just my brother, him and I, it was Aqua Sana (a spa). My brother disappeared to change behind one of the curtains. And I purposely undressed in front of the guy and not behind a curtain and walked across the locker room in the nude to enter the shower, with nothing but my towel in my hand. I quite enjoyed watching him watch. And he sure as hell was watching.

I guess the hidden exhibitionist in me is starting to rear its head (pun intended)

Saturday, May 26, 2007

Gay Flamingos

I lasted exactly five days away from eBlogger... which even for me is abysmal (that of course excludes the comment 3 days ago) - otherwise its just 2 days, and I like the sound of 5 days over 2 days ;o)

Anyways this isn't a proper post - I was just reading the news (yes it's very important keeping tabs on what is happening outside the world of eBlogger) and I read this hilarious article... I've edited it slightly. But the original can be found here.

A pair of gay flamingos have adopted an abandoned chick, becoming parents after being together for six years, a British conservation organisation said Monday.

Carlos and Fernando had been desperate to start a family, even resorting to chasing other flamingos from their nests to take over their eggs at the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust (WWT) in Slimbridge near Bristol, UK.

"The couple, together for six years, can feed chicks by producing milk in their throats. Gay flamingos are not uncommon", said WWT spokeswoman Jane Waghorn. "If there aren't enough females or they don't hit it off with them, they will pair off with other males."

Ain't that just hilarious?