Sunday, May 31, 2009

Bad Hair Day

I don't think that it really shows here, but just go with me on this.

I'm having a fairly busy time at work at the moment. So much so that I haven't found the time to get my hair cut. So, frustrated at the length of my not so short-back-and-sides I decided to take the clipper to it. Often-especially in summer-I've shaved my head myself. It's liberating.

And so I started. Chunks came out, then I realised it was tugging my hair. Then I realised it was not cutting uniformly. Then I realised the clippers were blunt.

after and..after (other side)

Mind the gaps...

Then I realised I need to go to the barber.

Friday, May 29, 2009

Electric E's Birthday

Today is Electric E's birthday. I know this because last Friday evening I was sitting in front of the mac when mr D-DJ appeared at the front door (which was open). He explained the situation, stressing that they would really like if we could come down and celebrate with them and their friends.

In turn I told him about the slamming of doors, the rubbish bags left outside on the decking inviting the wildlife & vermin. I didn't tell him enough of Electric E running and screaming around the flat in her clack-clack heels. (She has a "twinnie", you know). And I lied about how irritating their boom-boom was.

They also asked for the other neighbour's names to invite them.

Not a chance. There's not a chance that any of them will show.

Fred & Seb are totally and completely fucked off with them. Totally. On Friday night Seb was out in the courtyard at something-am shouting at them to "shut the fuck-up", and on Saturday night it was Fred's turn!!

I heard none of it, which amazes me, as I am a light sleeper. Although when Xfe's not here I don't sleep with our window open. Vampires and stuff...

Fred admitted to me that it wasn't mr D-DJ's decks that were the problem. It's simply that in the dead of night the courtyard we share (and that all the bedrooms face onto) is silent and still. With a basement and 3 levels of buildings surrounding it, the slightest noise tends to be amplified.

On Friday it was definitely party noise that pissed off Seb. That and mr D-DJ outside on his mobile in the wee small hours directing some kind of delivery to his Hoxton-ish pad.

On Saturday, when it was Fred's turn, it was the chit-chat of the smokers at their back-door. And the click-clack of heels on the decking. And the gate slamming shut with people coming and going.

I heard none of it. On Friday I was fast asleep due to an exhausting week. On Saturday I was more likely unconscious courtesy of 2+ bottles of prosecco (oh, and the red-wine and pepsi-max mixer) consumed over the course of 12 hours from 2pm-2am. Which is rather unlike me - the deep sleep that is.

Miss Hugo is unlikely to show. Firstly Electric E and mr D-DJ are a little over half her age. Secondly she, too, is fucked off by their weekend-in weekend-out party boom boom. Their kitchen window opens into her private deck area.

So, wish me a peaceful night tonight.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Mon Stash(é), Peu Caché

I'm a spender, though in these austere times, less so. That said, I continue to save diligently. But not just cash. Little "luxuries" too...

I hoard and squirrel. I have bottles of Molton Brown and Haushka in reserve. In fact, I'm getting anxious because I don't have enough for comfort, though mon C has banned me from buying any more in the meantime.

The latest thing I'm collecting in reserve are the Diptyque limited edition Selfridges anniversary mimosa candles (mmmm...).

However whenever I needed to go to the corner shop I hardly ever have cash in my wallet. Nor any notes in my pocket. Yet, I can usually avoid a trip to the bankomat. Cash is another thing I tend to squirrel away...

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

No Milk Today

As part of an advertisement campaign for milk, Eurovision winner Alexander Rybak has recorded his version of "No Milk Today". The song can be downloaded for free from Quite cool, and different from his "Fairytale".

Thanks to Bjørn's blog.

(just don't google Alexander Rybak naked or gay).

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Dreams And Where They Come From

In the waking hours of Friday morning I had the strangest dream. It was one of those dreams so closely interwoven with reality, that you wake up confused thinking that it had actually happened...

The dream

It started with me in my bed. My mobile was buzzing from receiving an SMS.

I knew that it was a client trying to get hold of me; a particular client. When I looked at my phone I had 31 missed calls. As I was looking at it, it rang. I recognised the number as the client's agent.

I took the call and explained that:

(a) we couldn't do this work unless and until we had a payment on account of fees. In real life I've run up so much WIP for this client which he had previously been unable to pay; and

(b) that I didn't have capacity to work on this currently. (In real life I couldn't say that to a client).

After the conversation I left the bedroom. Even though it was 5.30am in my dream the light was flooding through the glass brick recess in the wall. In the hall was the handyman. Well, he wasn't really. (In real life, on Fridays we have a handyman who comes and empties the bin pods and usually sweeps the outside areas. He's a retired Irish chap).

In my dream, this was a dark-haired Slavic looking guy. Well defined, an almost goatee, but not quite because he wasn't the hairy type. Except his legs were very hairy-which was obvious because he was only wearing black briefs and a black t-shirt. He was sweeping the hall.

Generously proportioned. Sexy.

He explained that he always swept the hall. I was astounded that for almost 6 year's he'd been coming into our flat each Friday at 5.30am to do this and we'd never noticed.

When he spoke I realised that he wasn't Slavic. He was English, and his name was Scottie.

He was done for the day. I remember finding him super-sexy, and indeed getting aroused with him standing in his underpants, in my hall, I in close proximity to him

I sensed he was getting flirty. I wanted him to stay a little, so I asked if he would like a cup of tea. He said he would like a glass of wine. I was surprised. I mean wine, at 7am (it was now 7am in my dream).

I went to get the wine thinking there was plenty in the fridge. There was none. I was confused because I'd bought 2 bottles of prosecco and one bottle of red the night before (in real life I had) and I'd drank only 2 glasses (in real life I had). I couldn't understand why the wine was finished and there were 2 bottles of prosecco and one red in the recycle bin, all empty.

I remember thinking that I didn't want to open a bottle of good red wine-we have a few lying around (as we do in real life)-but I decided to open the least-best, best bottle of red that we have. I poured him a glass.

His proximity to me was causing real excitement. I remember thinking that exact thought, very clearly. Then I woke up...

And where it comes from
  1. client phoning 31 times, no capacity - I can't account for the 31 calls but having no capacity to do the work reflects the workload I'm currently carrying.
  2. 5.30am, working - I recently blogged about having got up at 4am the day before to work on some documents that I turned around and emailed out at 5.29am.
  3. Scottie-dark hair, dark briefs, sexy - I'm guessing it's Alexandre Despatie (Scottie/Spatie) who I'd blogged about that evening before going to bed-using this picture. He's not English though. He's French-Canadian.
  4. 3 bottles of wine - I had bought these on my way home. I drank 2 glasses of prosecco and was sorely tempted to drink some more, but decided against it and went to bed. With a busy day ahead of me I had an early start and needed a clear head to tackle the day ahead.
  5. the recyle bin - Friday is rubbish day and I had reminded myself before going to bed that I needed to empty the recycle bin before going to work, and not to forget.
  6. his proximity to me was causing real excitement - TimeOut arrives each Wednesday/Thursday. Every time I notice the ads for Bel Canto and think I must go. I'm sure it is abysmal and like an American theatre-diner. One of their tag-lines is: The proximity creates a real sensation of excitement. Gets me every time. "Promoting London's next generation of Opera greats". Like, really. Is that how Dame Kiri paid her dues and made a name for herself? She'd be mortified-and so would I. But that's a whole other blog post...

Monday, May 25, 2009

The Ghost In My Mind

Xfe's off to Zurich for a week. He's our domestic god. So, each time he goes I suffer a change of lifestyle.

Instead of healthy eating like this:

I revert to this:

I love cooking, and can take great pleasure from it. But
  1. it's not as much fun cooking for one; the pleasure, I find, is in having someone to share it with and to cook for; and
  2. I just don't have the time or energy when I get home from the office at around 8pm, or later, to start cooking. I just want to sit down and have a bottle glass of wine.
Equally, you'd think that I had never coped with life before Xfe.

But of course, I don't mind. I know it's because he just wants to look after me, even when he's not at home to do so.

As I'm reminded when I go to bed at night, without Xfe, though not alone.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Bad Film Beware

Sometime over this Bank Holiday weekend I'll be watching Were the World Mine, which I know nothing about other than it's a musical and it's gay themed (aren't they all).

This is how I know that it's going to be crap*:

"Cute Gay Boys" says the Advocate Insider (who? This is the UK DVD release).

That's the best they quote can come up with to recommend it.

It has the rugby-jock of the hero's dreams.

Then the back cover tempts us with some flesh, tantalisingly revealed as the shirt drips almost over his shoulder, perhaps distracting from some more quotes:

"Enchanting! Endearing!" from none other than the New York Times.

Not that I'm suggesting that a promotional quote might have been taken out of context. Not me.

Oh, and it "explores the pleasure and pain of coming of age [don't they all] as a gay man [man? Nothing more youthful?] in a truly refreshing way [that will be the golden shower then]".

Well, once watched I'll report back.

*Monday 25th May edit: I did the film a disservice. It wasn't so awful after all. While not the greatest film ever, it was cute and well intentioned; it had some stylised design and direction. Timothy falls in love with the school star rugby player. As Puck he distills a love potion, casting his spell all over town turning most of the population temporarily gay and permanently tolerant.

I imagine others could see a different allegory though. Puck sprays his love fluid from an enlarged pansy into the eyes of his victims, "infecting" and involuntarily converting them to the same status (until "cured").

After all, where there's yin there's yang

Here's a more thorough review taken from the tla website: Timothy (Tanner Cohen) is a gay boy stranded in a private boys school obsessed with rugby. There’s just one thing about rugby he's obsessed with, the über-hot Jonathan (Nathaniel David Becker). Both boys are students in Ms. Tebbit's (Wendy Robie, who "Twin Peaks" fans will recognize as "Nadine") English class. She's a teacher with a mission: to excite her students with the literature of the ages. When she decides to cast these two boys as the romantic leads in her production of Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and to cast boys in girl's roles, you know she’s just as mischievous as Puck himself. The rugby Coach and townspeople are up in arms, and Timothy sends himself off into musical gay fantasies that look as if they're designed by Pierre et Gilles. But Timothy just can't get the language right and Ms. Tebbit advises the boy to let the words work their magic. They do just that as Timothy finds in the script the recipe for a potion to make people gay! One spritz from Timothy's magic pansy and the person goes totally queer. The entire town (filled with Christian fundamentalists) is whipped into frenzy as the glorious production night approaches. This deliciously surreal confection of a film is steered by first-time co-writer/director Thomas Gustafson, whose 2003 short Fairies inspired this bit of magic. The musical numbers are over-the-top, production values first-rate and the acting is as flawlessly beautiful as the boys. We know the Bard would appreciate this totally queer take on his immortal tale of mayhem, "If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended."

Friday, May 22, 2009

Doctor Who And The Burgers Of Doom

Coming soon...

Doctor Who and the Burgers of Doom

(pic by Kate Orman, who very much appreciated me and Matt Smith)

Read about it on Planet Gallifrey or Combom. Spoilers beware, though.

Thursday, May 21, 2009


On Sunday, after the ESC, I pondered how busy the GoogleNet would be with people looking for pics of Alexander Rybak naked.

I checked Google analytics to see the top 10 search referrals to this blog and its Vanilla companion. Here are the results:

Now, it's a truth universally acknowledged that the internet is for porn. As the Vanilla keyword searches reveal. But don't think you'll find anything there coming close to 1,2 and 4. And let's not even ask why someone wants to know how to make that taste better!

As for MiS, I'm surprised that so many people are still asking whether Ben Whishaw is gay. Probably now to do with the Keats film. I sat at the table next to Ben Whishaw in a restaurant many years ago, just before seeing him in Mercury Fur (the subject of one of my very first blog posts).

Alexander Rybak comes in 2nd and 6th though I suspect that Ben Whishaw will outlive the Rybak hobbit.

For those who don't know who Alexandre Despatie is, that's him in the picture, closest to us. Everyone wants to know if he's hung, well hung.

The cake in the rain has to do with Priscilla.

A new deal for Christmas

Forget Roosevelt, I'm on a new deal right now. Yesterday was my first austerity pay cheque under the "voluntary" salary sacrifice scheme at work (to keep us all in employment, you know).

In the event I was £497 lighter for the month.

To add insult to injury I was up at 4am this morning reviewing documents which came in at 10.25pm last night and had to be reported on first thing this morning. I turned them around at 5.29am.

I hear say that prosecco can be just as dry and refreshing as a reasonable champagne...

Anyway, to reflect current sentiment I phoned AmEx this evening asking them if I could change the credit limit on my account.

"Just a minute Sir, I'll see if we can do that," and I'm taken through the security checks.

"So, you want to increase your limit?"

"Well actually, I don't. I would like to reduce it if I may, " I explain.

"Oh, that's an unusual request. Let me see..." and I go on hold.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Steamed Green Beans

Steamed green beans, fried with garlic.

This one's for the FABULOUS Miss GG who asked how Xfe made them. I have to tell you, it's a great way to eat your veg. I find them absolutely delicious. So much so that I insist he buys two packs each time so we can enjoy now and then!

First, mon C washes, then tops and tails the green beans (haricot verts-the thin ones).

Then he steams them (in the steamer that was a present and I thought "What! Why on earth did they think I'd ever use this," yet I find invaluable) for about 10-15 minutes until cooked (al dente, but not too much so). If you don't have a steamer then you can boil them. Until they are squeaky to the bite.

Once done, put them aside and leave them to cool. I say completely (because I think they fry better and if they do, then you might want to refresh them immediately in cold water). However mon C says that it is not necessary. Ours are only cooling because it's some time before we eat dinner.

Then, chop up some parsley, roughly and put to the side. Take 2 fat cloves of garlic and crush into some hot olive oil (in France , Xfe tells me, they use butter). Once sizzling drop in the beans and stir, stir, stir.

They are ready after 5 mins.

Alternatively you can put the lid on and keep warm until ready to serve.

Delicious! Yum.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009


Last Saturday week we celebrated our 2nd wedding anniversary.

When we got married I wore a Ted Baker outfit. I loved the jacket and, especially, the shirt.

Recently I flew up to St. Andrews for a reunion dinner with friends from university. We had a hoot. Some of them had brought pictures. One of them, in particular, caught my eye. It was taken on the Isle of Mull where we all went to celebrate New Year 1986-87.

Liz, Tobermory New Year 1986/ wedding day shirt, Ted Baker collection 2007


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