I'm not so sure this is a good idea...

The other day I got really drunk. Not too drunk - well actually that's up for debate, but I was drunk enough that I had lost all inhibitions. I went out with an old friend who is heading abroad for a while, we were supposed to be doing the London tourist things like the tourist bus, London Eye, taking in a show and eating at an Aberdeen Angus steak house. Well, OK, maybe not the last one, even tourists should know better than that.

But we ended up going shopping and getting drunk. We went to Uni-Qlo, or however they spell it where I bought some new jeans and my friend sweated a lot. I think it was the lighting...and the hangover from the day before. Then we went to Stock Pot and had an omlette and chips.

This is where things go a little awry. (I've never used that word before, so if anyone feels like letting me know if I used it correctly it would be much appreciated.)

We sat outside the Three Greyhounds on Old Compton Street and drank two bottles of wine. By the end of it we had my tinny phone playing Kylie and we were doing dance moves and singing. I think we provided much entertainment for the tourists. It was kind of tragic.

Then we migrated to G-A-Y bar by which time I can't remember anything. I bought us a bottle of wine and then Paul disappeared. I sat in the entrance and started talking to randoms. I also saw this guy who I slept with when I very first came out. All I can remember is that he shaved his body which was gross and although he was in no way a model, he had modelling shots on his wall. Apparently he had paid for them himself. *sigh*

But he had his dog with him on Friday which kept trying to hump his leg and everyone was staring out of awkwardness. It was very weird. Then I was about to go in a find Paul when I caught the eye of some guy sitting on his own. I went and said hello but before I knew it I had undone his jeans and I had my hand down his pants...only he wasn't wearing pants.

Then i suggested we go to the toilets. We went downstairs straight past the guy who hands you hand towels and offers you aftershave and into a cubicle. He said, 'Hey, you can't do that here!' So we left the mens and went into the womens...

This was at 7 o'clock Friday evening.

After this I hung out and bumped into this guy I vaguely know. I hung out with him for ages and shamelessly came on to him. Then his boyfriend arrived. I hope I stopped then, although I couldn't be sure.

Then everything is a bit blank. I bumped into my friend later who had fallen asleep, I also remember dancing on my own quite a lot. But then I went to Sauna bar in Covent Garden and sat in the jacuzzi. It wasn't long before I was getting off with some guy in there. We started fooling around and then a third and fourth guy were getting in on the action too. We moved to a cubicle and finished the job in there.

I went to find my friend back in Soho. I found him outside The Edge and we talked about the evening. But I don't remember much. After about ten minutes some guy passed us and I blatantly checked him out. He came back and hung out with us for a bit. Then he said he had driven into town and offered me a lift home. Faced with the option of that or the hellish nightbus I figured I might just take him up on the offer.

So we drove back to West Hampstead and I gave him a quick kiss goodbye.

That was my Friday night.

I spent Saturday hungover, smelling of chlorine and feeling like a skank.

It's so Sex and the City...

To say I had a bizarre Friday night would be an understatement. First I went to the movies and saw a film called The Fall which was just the most beautiful film I think I have ever seen. Well, OK, that might be a bit of an overstatement but it was incredibly beautiful and visually stunning. The vision the director must have had was....words fail me.

But then I went to the gym at 9pm and at this point normally my will power wold get the best of me. But I went and did 20 minutes on the bike and 20 minutes on the treadmill. They had Kylie's recent tour playing on one of the music channels and I found myself really enjoying it. Possibly more than when I actually went. I wish I had been drunk and with a close friend when I went. To the tour, not the gym. I think I would have enjoyed it so much more. Although that does apply to both.

Then I went to Sainsburys, excited at the prospect of now having a 24 hours supermarket. It was shut. It goes 24 hours as of Wednesday. *sigh*

So instead I went home and cleaned the bathroom. I put on my shuffle, listened to Santogold, Siobhan Donaghy, Madonna and The Knife and scrubbed, vaccumed and mopped. All on a Friday night at 11:30pm! But this is not the weirdness that I am writing about.

No, last night I had what they call 'cybersex'.

A guy I worked with at a REALLY straight men's magazine back in 06 opened up the new chat function on Facebook. I was surprised as we both added each other when Facebook kicked off and then had barely spoken. In fact I think this was the first time. He asked me how I was and then about the magazine that I recently posed naked for. This is when it got weird.

I explained that I hadn't scanned it yet and he kept saying he wanted to see it. Having always thought he was straight, I was a little confused. I just brushed it off until he said, 'You seem surprised?' He then went on to say how he was bi-curious and although he had never done anything with guys, he fantasised over pictures and had phone-sex and cyber-sex.

Now, I think the name cyber-sex sounds ridiculous but I was there thinking, 'Oh, he needs someone to help him come out of the closet, how cute. I'll be that person!' only to find myself getting involved in some online one night stand.

He said he had been looking at my pictures and although he was fussy, he really liked me. I told him to shut up and that he had drunk too much. But the conversation continued and I explained that he wasn't my type.

But then we started to talk dirty. Or is that write dirty? Well, whatever it is, we were doing it. I found the whole situation a bit weird as I wasn't really that turned on, well, OK a little, but not as much as he was making out he was. He wanted to hear me groan on the phone and I said that would just be weird. But not because it was phone-sex just because I knew him.

So we carried on and then he tells me he's come.

We have pillow talk afterwards - can we still call it that? And I tell him he should get out there and try it for real. I said, 'Don't spend your life wondering 'What if?'. But he patronisingly replied, 'Well, it's not as big a step for me as it was for you.' Meaning that because he was bi-curious, he didn't need to tell anyone. I am not convinced...

But then he said, 'Anyway, no offence but it was always pretty obvious you were gay, you liked Mariah Carey.'

Now I realise liking Mariah probably does make me a big old 'mo but it still hurts to hear that it's 'obvious'. That would possibly be because I still have issues with it which is fine. I recognise that. But I kind of resented the fact that this guy had used me to get off and then told me it was always obvious I was a big gay and that people were laughing at me for not coming out sooner. (Ok, I added the last part but that's kind of how it feels).

So, I am not convinced by cyber-sex and still think the name is ridiculous. I doubt we'll speak again.

But yes, I felt like Carrie...

What's protocol?

I have been friends with X for about a year and a half now. We're not as tight as some of my friends but we are pretty close. He introduced me to his boyfriend soon after we met and he's come to a few of my parties and we get on too.

Last week they split up.

I saw X and he said although it ended amicably he didn't want to stay in touch. A friend started to slag the ex off and X said, 'No, I don't want to hear it.'

Now the ex-boyfriend has emailed me and is suggesting we go for drinks. I can say for 100% fact that it is not in a romantic way, so that's fine but I don't know if I am supposed to go ahead with it or not.

Am I supposed to have loyalties? Is this crossing the line? Should I tell X? I don't know what is right the thing to do...

How old am I?

I do realise that I am crap at listening to people and actually remembering what they are telling me. It's one of my many faults. It's even been highlighted to me this week by someone, which made me upset, but only because it's true.

For example I know there has been talk of my housemates going to Manchester next weekend for some time but as far as I can remember this is the first time I got an invite. A week beforehand.

If I'm honest I'm not sure I want to go as they are going for Pride and I just don't enjoy those events. So I don't feel I am missing out but it's not the first time I have been left out by two of my 'roomies'.

It's fine as I don't invite them to come on holiday with me either and there's a reason for that but at the same time...well, actually there is no 'but'.

It just feels a little weird/sad not being asked...

This is not the first time I have been a dog in the manger. This weekend the guy from Brussels changed his Facebook status from 'single' to 'It's complicated' to 'Married'. He had spent the last week with his ex and I began to get jealous.

But really I don't want anything from him so I should be happy for him, right?

Wrong. Instead I drunkenly left a snide message on his Facebook, saying, 'I can't keep up!' Nice.

When she was bad...

...she was awful

Being the nice guy sucks

Last night I was out with my colleagues and we were talking about our new job. I realised how much happier I am now working in this one.

The atmosphere is lighter.

There is a better community feel

We are now in Covent Garden.

We work with lots more people.

I now get any money I earn as a freelancer which I didn't before.

But, despite all this, I am still upset that I wasn't asked to stay on. I am still upset that I was not fought for, thought of as a half decent writer.

I know this is a dull topic for everyone as I have already talked about it at length but every so often it really gets to me. I think, 'You have stopped me writing for your clients temporarily because you want the money. But you don't want me to work for you anymore as you don't like my writing.'

Then, when I see them at gigs I am supposed to be like everything is cool.

Well, guess what, fuckers? It's not and it ain't ever gonna be!

Now, let's lighten the mood, shall we?

Today I feel sad.

I have realised that another fling is over with. I am not really sad about the fact that I am not seeing the Brussels guy any more. I am sad that another situation didn't work out. I am also a little sad that he has updated his Facebook status to 'It's complicated' but that's selfish so I'm glad that he's moving on.

I wasn't very nice to him last time he came to stay and really just used him for sex and intimacy and then felt shit about it but unable to actually say, 'We need to stop seeing each other completely.' How do you say that you don't even want to be friends?

I'm going to sound like a real pig now, but I am going to miss the chance of having someone to stay with in Brussels. I liked the idea of having a contact there who I could jet over and see.

Now it's all changed. I would feel weird going and not having sex. I don't think we could be just friends.

I find him irritating.

This is the right thing to do but I feel sad not about leaving him, if you can call it that, just ending it. :(

I'm going down...

Last night I had a really vivid dream. But while we're on the subject, 'vivid' has always been a weird word to me. I always thought it meant hazy and not real. A bit like vague. But it was only about two years ago I found out it meant the opposite.

So, yeah, I had this really vivid dream where I had been caught shoplifting and was being sent to prison for it for two years. I was at my old house where I grew up in Wimbledon and was thinking which clothes I wanted to wear. I then thought I'd write to Margaret Thatcher, asking her to help me out. She wrote back saying there was nothing she could do. Whatta bitch.

Then I started on my way to the prison. I was really upset Mum wasn't with me. She said she was busy. She said she'd come see me if she had time. In hindsight I'd like to think that this was because she couldn't take the emotional strain but in my dream I just think she had other plans.

In real life I'm seeing a friend today and in my dream I actually called him up and cancelled saying, 'Sorry, I'm going to prison.'

Then I arrived at Bond Street but I knew that this wasn't the right station. Next thing I know I'm at this little newsagent getting changed in their shower. Then I'm off again and trying to find my way. I remember complaining a lot as they had sent me no instructions so I didn't know where to go, what to take or anything.

Eventually I arrived with Margaret Thatcher on the door taking names. I said my name was Michael. She said, 'Turnbull?' then she said she'd read my letter and that there was nothing she could do. She said it all in a nice way. I said thank you and then called her Mrs Thatcher, realised my mistake and said, 'sorry, Lady Thatcher.'

It was a really modern building and there were other families walking around. It felt a bit like Canary wharf tube station.

I remember crying a LOT. It was always mid-sentence. My voice would crack up and...well, it was like my first phone calls at boarding school.

But by the end I had decided that I didn't mind too much. I'm sure there would be a gay network who would take me in and then I could just study for two years and do some really interesting course.

I was just unsure what to do about paying rent, my job and things of that nature. For some reason I seemed to think I would be rich when I came out. Er...

It's now been an hour since I woke up but I still feel like it's my last day of freedom.

I feel...unnerved.

The Ultimate Playlist

Since dropping my computer and breaking it three weeks ago I have been without any of my music. It also means that I can't change the tracks on my iPod shuffle.

Luckily just before I dropped it I had put on albums like, Blackout, Deep Cuts, Alphabeat, Ghosts and Hard Candy.

But I also put on a playlist which I have been working really hard on and to be honest I am actually quite proud of. Well, 'proud' might be stretching it a little, but I am very pleased with it. How's that?

Here is the playlist...

1 - Intro - Annie
2 - Breaking It Up - Lykke Li
3 - Left Behind - CSS
4 - L.E.S. Artistes - Santogold
5 - I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You - Black Kids
6 - Great DJ - The Ting Tings
7 - Fascination - Alphabeat
8 - Pass This On - The Knife
9 - Ce Jeu - Yelle
10 - Time To Pretend - MGMT
11 - Ready For The Floor - Hot Chip
12 - Homecoming - The Teenagers
13 - Fancy Footwork - Chromeo
14 - To The Point Of No Return - Exposé
15 - Two Of Hearts - Stacey Q
16 - Attack Me With Your Love - Cameo
17 - Meeting In The Ladies' Room - Klymaxx
18 - Interlude: Let's Dance - Janet Jackson
19 - Sexual Eruption - Snoop Dogg & Robyn
20 - Seventeen - Ladytron
21 - The One - Kylie Minogue
22 - Off And On - Roisin Murphy

So that's Disc I. I'll publish Disc II some other time.

Here are some of my highlights from Disc I anyway...

A spokesperson? Me?

So I refrained from using, 'Has it come to this?' as a title for this but I was THIS close. (That doesn't really work when you're writing does it?)

Last month I wrote an article for a gay magazine where I tried to find sex online in an hour. It wasn't something I'd done before so it was fun to explore that side of my personality. Suffice to say I didn't find it but that's fine as you could argue that sub-consciously I just wasn't down with it. That's much easier to accept than the possibility that no one wanted my business. Actually screw those guys, I don't want it anyway.

I purposely left my profile name in the piece though so people could get in touch with me afterwards. Which they have. *phew*. No one has really said, 'I'd give you one', which is nice as they have mostly been saying things like, 'Really enjoyed your article.' I would like to state that I would prefer people write things like this but the odd 'I'd give you one' wouldn't go unappreciated.

What's interesting is the different people who have been looking at my profile since the article got published. They are usually sleazy or old or sleazy and old. But I sort of feel like I have taken one for the team and am representin' my boys. That in some sick kind of way I have let everyone know that it is OK to have sex via the internet.

Which is kind of sweet. As long as you don't think about it for too long.

My Week of Music

Last week I went to many a concert. Luckily for everyone I brought along my incredible camera. It really is of the highest technology. No, really...

First up was Solange. Oh, actually it was Kylie. But I have uploaded Solange first so that's what's going up. Plus it's so dark, you can't really tell the difference.



We went to Yo-Yo at Notting Hill Arts Club to see Beyonce's little sister. We had so many issues getting into the place I thought they might just ask us to give up our right arm for the privilege. We had to show ID, not for age check, but for them to scan and record who came in.

Solange came on 45 minutes late but was incredible. We couldn't see shit as the video proves but she kept us so happy we were singing it on the tube. I only have one song of hers and I listened to it all the way home. Which is more than I can say for Kylie...



I wasn't that excited to be honest and even with low expectations it was still a disappointment. There was a lot of filler, you couldn't dance to it all and she couldn't fill the stage. There was even a cover of 'Copacabana'. Eeeeshhh...I know this is Kylie but come on.



She did sing the Fischerspooner remix of 'Come In To My World' though so all was just about forgiven.

She's a maniac

I've just noticed that I always try and title my blogs with a song lyric. Why is that? Even ones that have nothing to do with music!

Anyway last week we went to see Solange at Yo-Yo in the Notting Hill Arts Club. On the tube we sat opposite this woman who looked relatively normal. Until a woman sat next to her - at which point she went balistic. She started shouting, *adopts Irish accent*, 'Say fooking excuse me! How would you like it if I sat on YOUR funeral dress?! Say fooking excuse me! Don't mess with me! It'll be your fooking funeral!'

Then she started pushing the girl next to her, picked up a London Lite and nearly went to smack her with it.

In an ideal world I would have stepped in but I took one quick look at her nasty long nail extensions and suddenly saw potential for a re-imagining of Un Chien Andalou at 7:35 on the Central Line to Notting Hill.



So I didn't get involved. I felt quite ashamed of myself.

Then I went home and dreamt that I was in a queue for a cash point when this little kid pushed in front of the guy in front of me. We both pushed him out the way and he came back and said to me, 'I'm going to fucking stab you!' He then pulled out a little stanley knife and stabbed me three times in the leg.

It wasn't a fun dream.

But reading the papers I saw this and thought, 'Well, I guess I saw that first hand.'

Is it never enough?

Last night a friend came to stay. We met each other for the first time just under a year ago, probably around the 8 month mark. OK, so it's not really a year, but it's been a while.

We started off really intense. We would email each other every day - sometimes eight or nine times. Having originally met for the first time online, we arranged to meet at the champagne bar at St Pancras. It was romantic and cute. We then spent New Year's together and then slept together.

He doesn't live nearby, so I have been to see him and he has now stayed here a couple of times. But things are changing.

Whereas originally I liked the distance but also the knowing I had a certain stability of someone liking me, now I find the messaging a little clingy and the frequency of the visits too much.

What's more disturbing is that last night he told me he had been dreaming of me, he brought me lots of presents and then said that he wears a pair of jeans I left at his...in bed.

I thought it was all cool and we were just keeping the distance but now I don't know how to tell him I need more space.

How much space can I possibly need? He already lives in another country!

Holding hands

Normally I think this is all a bit trite. Hmmm...well, I think I mean trite. If trite means - a bit too co-dependent, showy and forced then that's what I mean.

This afternoon on my way back from the gym, I walked behind a couple who were holding hands and was actually quite touched by it. *gag*

I think it had something to do with being unexpectedly affected by Shopgirl last night.



There were tears involved. In fact there was both general crying and sobbing involved.

But with the couple this afternoon it was cute watching them walk at the same pace and let their hands gradually intertwine. It was like one was still unsure of whether the other wanted to hold hands or not. One time the girl pulled her hand away as she went for her bag so the guy went to scratch his other arm.

Then when she was done, they both lowered their arms again and held hands.

I found it cute. I'm not used to that. I normally find it nauseating.

Now I just feel unnerved...