The Elephant Man 

Shower power

I had to go to the doctors today. My face has started growing things. And I have managed to get a job interview this week, and I really don't want to scare anyone from employing me, so my Mum suggests I wear make-up. I hope these people are willing to employ the elephant man in drag. The interview is a two day affair, so it seems quite major. I hope I don't have to play silly getting to know you games. I once went on a training course and we all had to go round the room and tell two truths about ourselves and one lie, and then the others had to guess which was the lie. What bullshit. I exercised my right to be assertive and told them I wasn't playing. They didn't like me for that. I should get some ideas together now in case I have to do it in this interview/selection thing.
1.
I am struggling, because I can't think of anything interesting enough that is true, but I can think of some fab lies. When I did it last time the people had some fab truths, like 'I have sold a car to Chris Evans' and 'I speak 3 languages fluently' and I'm like derrrrrr. I can't very well abstein at a job interview though can I. Can I? Now that I have thought about it, this will definatly crop up, so I need to get some answers together.
1. I was caught in the killer floods in the Czech Republic.
2.
Oh I'm shite. I've done nowt interesting, I've saved no lives, survived no train crashes (or in fact survived every train crash ever), and I don't own anything that belonged to anyone famous. What else is there? Fuck it I'll abstein.

Went on a bike ride today because we had lovely weather in Liverpool. I needed to because I haven't done any proper exercise in a long time, and when I tried my suit jacket on today it's too tight. Nightmare. Bike riding is fun, but when it's hot I hate that sweaty gooch feeling when you stand up at the end. The signal to shower.

Measyjet

Somebody mailed me yesterday to my OUT profile. Basically I have a profile on a web site called OUT, and this tells people about me and has photos of me on it. Anyways, the guy who messaged me wanted to know if I was the guy form Easyjet. I get this quite often, and have been stopped in pubs about it by strangers a couple of times. I just thought I should share this.

Me 

The guy from Easyjet 

Lovely Bones? 

I love coconuts

I've decided I'm going to use this space to review books I have read, when I have finished them. I'm crap at remembering book titles, and their plots when I come back to looking at them. I sometimes go to my book shelf and look at books and can't remember whether or not I have read them at all, so this may help to serve my memory.
I am reading Vernon God Little right now, which is excellent. It won the man booker award in 2003 and that seems to be a good sign for books I like. The winner of that award previously was The Life of Pi and that too was a cracker. So I'll review Vernon when I finish it. Aren't you excited?
Todays book review is of Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. I bought this in a charity shop like with most of my books. I had it for a while and leant it to my friend for her to read. This friend was my study buddy when we were doing our dissertations, and we have a great relationship, comfortable silences are cool. In fact she read this book on our bus journeys home, whilst I listened to my personal stereo. Might sound like an odd friendship, but it's nice. What drove me to actually start reading it was this time when we were travelling home on the bus and I looked at her and she was crying her eyes out, bucket loads of tears were pouring. She was on the second to last page, and I thought that this must be one bloody good book if it can drive people to that. So I immediatly started to read it. Mostly I thought it was shit, but kept reading because I wanted to find out what was so great at the second to last page. The question on your lips might now be...will he give away the punch line to the book? Is he going to spoil it? Well it's impossible because there is no punch line. I haven't got a fucking clue what she was crying at, but I'm sure it can't have been the book, cos it's fucken shite. It's all about this girl who dies at the very beginning, and then watches her family and friends from heaven, and tells us what's going on. What a load of sentimental bullshit. It's like reading about the boring parts of big brother. 'Dad made a cup of tea' 'Mum went for a walk with Grandmother.' Well woopety doopety doo! Conclusion: One star - a book for gurls!

Speaking of girls I've decided to write a bit about my experiences with them. I've neglected the bibliography aspect of this blog a bit, so I thought I should put some in today. This is probably going to be the sexiest bit of my blog so far, so get excited people. Yes I'm talking 'pre acknowledging I'm a homo, attempts to do girls here.' I'm going to change the names to protect the innocent. When I was at school I went out with a girl called Gurtrude. She was and is lovely, although I haven't seen her for a very long time, but we exchanged text messages at some point this year. Six months we went out with each other, and I never got so much as outside tit. And, maybe secretly that was fine, oddly it seemed to suit her too; she never asked me to tickle her jubblies. She then went to University, and I went to see her, and we planned for me to stay over with her in her halls of residence. I figured this might be a good time to ask if she wanted me to bong her. So it's night time, we are in bed together, and I pop the question 'Do you want to do it?' I'm such a romantic. She stretches her arms out and says 'No I'm too tired.' Fair enough. But then, a whole 45 seconds later she jumps out of the bed looking about as tired as a Hyena on speed, and asks me if I want a cup of tea, cos she fancies one. Tired! Tired? Too tired my arse!She must be one of those fooken lesbanoms!
There was another girl too, at University. Her name was Pocohontas. I came off cool on this occassion. I tried to take her bra off over her head - never a winner boys. I went to lick her mooey, and rather than getting engrossed in the experience I camply shout up to her 'Ooh you smell nice. Is that coconut?' And then when it comes to the final you know what, I proclaim 'Oh no, I'm too drunk' and leave the room. I must tell you now that I had just spent all day with this girl and had drunk one pint of lager about 3 hours previous to this 'experience.' I'm sure I left her in a dizzy state of excitement. Pocohontas was the last girl I got involved with, I kind of figured myself out at that point. T'da.

What I'd like to do to a Merseytravel train! 

I'm so dizzy, my head is spinning. Like a whirlwind it never ends!

Well bugger me side-ways it's time to vote. I've never voted before. It was, I feel always with good reason; I never knew enough about politics, and I still maintain that I had no right to vote whilst I didn't know enough of the facts. I still don't know all the facts, and I suspect that 99% of the population won't ever see all the facts. Not that I mean they won't know everything that's going on in politics, because that's an impossible situation. I mean that it's very very difficlt to see through all the spin. Political spin is so clever. Take for example these two seemingly contradictory statements, the Tory's claim that over 40,000 children have left school without a single GCSE. Labour claims that the number of GCSE students gaining A-C grades is increasing. These statements made independantly make quite compelling arguments, the truth is they are both factual. Labour says crime has fallen by 30% since 1997. The Tories tell us overall crime is up 16%. It depends whose statistics you use. The Tories claim they will reduce public spending by £35 million compared to Labour without slashing spending, Labour say the figures don't add up. The Lib Dems on the over hand make their taxation plans look lovely, but A) their figures will leave them with a £700 million shortfall in the first year, and B) they will lead to people changing their behaviour and avoiding paying tax using loopholes, leaving an even larger shortfall. These are ofcourse the headline arguments being made, because they are popular issues. We all have our own reasons to vote. Those who own small businesses are less likely to vote labour - it has become very difficult for some to stay in business, and some have even been ran out of town, what with minimum wages, and the ever increasing red tape to rid a bad employee. Conversely, if you are a working class blue collar worker you might be inclined to vote labour, what with minimum wages, and incresed job security. If you were truely altruistic you might vote the Green party - now you see why the Green party won't make power? I'm interested in gay issues, asylum, education and global economics. I don't mind paying taxes, as long as I see value for money. I rarely talk about my political views to be honest. I often get very heated and stressed about the whole thing when I can't convince people how right I am, so I don't talk about it unless I'm pissed. So who will I be voting for for the first time ever? Well I can't forgive the Tories for introducing Section 28, which affected my time at school. I also can't abide their current political campaign - "How difficult can it be to keep a hospital clean? Are you thinking what we're thinking?" I'm thinking you make it all seem so simple and I don't like your dirty tricks; scape-goating populist issues such as Asylum and Travellers. They seem to do a lot of criticising, but I'm not convinved that they have the solutions that will provide homes for neither needy Asylum seekers nor Travellers who can't get permmission to live anywhere. I find the Lib Dems incompetent, although I have been a strong supporter of them in the past. So I'm left to choose Labour. It sounds like I'm choosing Labour by default, and that's not the case. I feel like they have paved the way for me as in individual, and a poof to have a better and more secure future. Gay people now have rights against being discriminated, we have civil partnerships, but most importantly, we no longer have that dreadful section 28. I'm not sure why I'm writing this blog post, there really dosn't seem to be a point. I'm just airing my views I suppose. So that's that.

The telly is talking French to me now, which must mean it's the middle of the night. I was always eager to learn German, and in fact studied it as a module at University. I used to have plans to live in Germany, but now, me being me, plans change and I'm now eager to learn French and spend some time their, so I'm glad the telly has decided to go au Francais. I was however always shite at French in school so I won't get my hopes up.

Love Actually

I had an interesting day yesterday. It had it's good moments; lunch with a good friend of mine, I had a laugh in 'work,' had a great chat to a friend on the phone, and had a celebratory beer with a mate who just got a new job after being made redundant. However, the day also had some bizaar moments. This is how it all started. I was in work, and my mobile phone started buzzing - a witheld number. I didn't answer, I don't in work. If I did, I'd never be off the thing, so I just have a flat policy of not answering it, unless it's my Mum. So the, phone stopped vibrating, and then again the witheld number attempted to call. And then again, in total 5 times, but on the final attempt, the person chooses to leave a message. I don't understand why people call again and again, consecutively. Surely it becomes apparent after the first attempt that the person isn't going to answer. Two attempts is forgiveable, but 5 is just silly. On my poo break, I retrieved the message. Now this message could have been one of two things, the callers phone had gone off whilst they were out jogging, and they hadn't realised, or it was a heavy breather. I decided that heavy breathing phone calls only happen to other people. Other things that only happen to other people include cancer, being run over, being house burgled, and getting caught in a house fire. I mention this phone call to a friend later, but I think very little of it. Fast forward, to the Lisbon pub after work. I'm talking to a friend of mine and my phone goes. It's withheld, I'm intrigued now and I answer. Here is how the call goes;
Me: Hello
Caller: Hello, is that Emil?
Me: Yes it is . Who's that?
Caller: It's Max.
Me: Max who?
Max: Oh I'm sorry I must have the wrong number.
The caller hangs up. Here, I must digress. Many many years ago, my Nan took a phone call. And that went like this;
Nan: Hello
Caller: Hello Mum, it's Ann.
Nan: Hello Ann. How's things?
Ann: Good thanks, I was just calling to see how you are.
My Nan and Ann went on to discuss, dinner plans, how their day had been, and what their plans were for the following day. It took them 20 minutes before they realised they didn't have a clue who the other person was they were talking to. Ann had dialled a wrong number. Now these things, happen. The UK is full of Ann's who have Mum's. It's undersatandable. However, never ever ever has anyone called a number looking for an Emil, and got the wrong Emil, never - FACT! Their just aren't that many Emil's in this country. Let's get back to yesterday. Ten minutes later my phone rings again, but I'm at a cash machine. Now if you answer your phone whilst you are at a cash machine you are just asking to be robbed, so again I ignore it. I take my money from the machine, pocket it, and check my phone. Witheld number, one message left. Low and behold it's Max, and he leaves me a rather interesting message.
Voice message "Hello Emil, this is Max. I'm just calling because I thought you might be interested to know that your friend Paul has given your number out in several chat rooms for phone sex - I thought you'd like to know."
Let me get a few things straight here. I don't use chat rooms, I have done in the past, but never for sex, and never have I been in gay specific chat rooms. I don't give my phone number out willy nilly on the internet, and nor do I in public. I don't even use gaydar.com for christs sake, and that makes me a very very good boy. Please don't judge me. Oh and one more thing, I don't have a friend called Paul. So I'm confused, wound up, a little angry, and very frustrated. Max calls me back, he obviously likes a bit of drama. He tells me that Paul, has been pretending to be me in a gay chat room and that he is talking to him on-line as we were on the phone. I ask Max to ask Paul who he is. Max says that I know Paul, and then asks how many Pauls do I know. I say is it Paul XXXX (this is just a Paul I have come across in the past).
Max: He says you must have slept with lots of people if you don't know which Paul I am.
(Paul clearly dosn't know me I figure)
Me: No. Ask who he is please.
Max: He says you have a small cock.
(maybe he does know me?)
Max: He says Have you got a hard on right now, but obviously you haven't because you sound distressed.
Me: No I haven't.
Max: He says he wants to know a few things about you before he says who he is. He wants to know do you still live in Crosby.
Me: Yes
Max: He wants to know how many people you have slept with. He says loads.
Me: Very few, never a Paul.
Max: I'll just put two
(maybe Max knows me too? No I don't think so)
At this point me and Max get chatting. He says he is from Holland but is living in London right now. He was in a chat room, talking to a guy also called Max, who he is going to meet in Liverpool, when LiverpoolLegend sends him a message. LiverpoolLegend is Paul. Max seems nice. Paul tells Max that we worked in Costco together. I did work in Costco 7 years ago, but I don't remember anyone called Paul, so I'm none the wiser. I thank Max for being so helpful and call off. Here is what I know about Paul, He worked/works in Costco, he uses the user name LiverpoolLegend in Wanadoo chat rooms (and maybe others), and he is clearly not right in the head. He knows too much about me for my liking, this info should not be in the hands of someone who is so not operating properly. I am concerned to be honest, but I also see the funny side. I am eager to find out who he is, and the gay world being so small, I'm sure I'll come across him soon enough.

Other events in my life. I found three grey hairs on my chest whilst in the shower. This is not good. Very upsetting. I'm doing a sponsored walk for a HIV charity www.sahir.uk.com and I will be dressed as the New York Cop from The Village People. Me and my friends are going to make up the full Village People set, so it will be a laugh. I was reading the sponsorship form of one of my fellow villagarians, and he had got a sponsorship off an ex girlfriend of mine by shear chance, I didn't even know she was in the city. Let me just make it clear, I was with this girlfriend when I was 16 and still very much in the closet. Apparently she has revealed an embarrasing story about me, when I find out what it is, I'll put it on here. Maybe. I'm on telly. Well not quite, StubooTV go to www.stubuu.co.uk and click on StubooTV to see a video of me. It is not supposed to just be me, but it seems to be. I think that means Stuart, my mate who set up the web site must love me - this is a fact. I saw it on the film 'Love Actually' and if you keep filming one person it means you love them.

Mmmm, talk to me dirty!!