Dead frogs

I went for an italian with a couple of friends of mine last week, one I go to to regularly, but on this occassion they had frogs legs on the specials board for starters. I've always wanted to try frogs legs. I'm not sure why, I just like the adventure of it. I have eaten snails before, and crocodile, and felt frogs legs should be next on the list. And here was my opportunity. The taste was dissapointing, they were tasteless, but I didn't really expect much more anyway. Frogs legs, like snails, are made nice by the sauce they are made in. These were in nice sauce. So I wasn't too dissapointed in them, but I did have a massive problem with them, that is that they looked like frogs legs. Like the legs of a frog. It made me feel a weird bit guilty, because there was no getting away from it that I was eating a frog. When I eat duck, it doesn't really look like a duck. When I eat pork it never looks like a pig, and when I eat beef, it never really looks like a cow. But there was no denial about eating a previously living object when eating a frogs leg. Even the feet looked 'realistic.' You see I have a theory now. If a martian landed on this planet and studied our animals, then looked at our food, said martian would never say that the duck on our plate was a duck, and that the lamb was once a sheep. But it would without doubt identify a frogs leg as being part of a frog. It might even get scared and be worried that next would be deep fried martian. My only consolation was imagining that the frog I was eating was crazy frog. That makes me feel better.

Former Cabinet Minister Robin Cook died. I always thought that there was a certain ettiquet about dead people that one should only say nice things about them. It was an oddly refreshing change to see someone on the telly just now dissing him, saying that he was an admiral person, but that he was incredably arrogant and won't be missed by the Labour party. Mary Whitehouse was a fucking bitch.

Wet fart 

I think I just invented text blogging

I've been out tonight for a good old knees up. It was the birthday of a friend of mine whom I used to work with. She used to be a lesbian but is now seeing a guy I once tried to steal a kiss with. I am now glad I never stole that kiss because it seems the lesbo loves the guy and it would have hurt her - they were seeing each other at the time. They make a great couple, but I am kind of confused about how it will all work out. I'm sure you might be too.

I wrote myself some text blogs today. I may have invented that phrase, but I think it will make sense soon. I sent myself a text tonight. It goes thus;

Text to me. Bloke grabs drink for fun. Then other bloke throws paper in my beer. Drugs in paper? Who knows. Having fun anyway. In Bar Red. Not dead yet. Lever in beaver. Lol.

This was never intended as a text blog, but when I read it I thought I was being pathetic and so thought it might be entertaining. I wrote this text because some guy grabbed my beer at the bar, then when I grabbed it back, another bloke threw a paper flyer in it. That dosn't really justify the text so maybe this will. I am very paranoid about getting spiked, i.e. people putting drugs in my beer. I don't get why people do this, but it seems they do. I read a story in the paper that made me super paranoid. A young lad from Halifax went out to Manchester for a night out. He was 21. Read the story here. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/west_yorkshire/4075653.stm . To sum up, his drink was spiked, and he was so scared he called his Mum, but all his Mum heard was him screaming down the line. Imagine how bad that would be for a Mum? This story, truly, really, scares me. He was later found drowned in the Manchester canal. He was obviously so drugged, he got lossed and fell in the canal, and drowned. What a horrid way to die. It seems his Mum heard him scream just before he fell in the canal. How horrific is that. So why did I write the text? I thought that if my drink was spiked and i died that i would then have some evidence of how it happened? Rediculous? Paranoid? I know. I probably should have thrown my drink away and bought another, but I didn't. I can't really explain the psychology of this. I threw in the 'having fun anyway' bit so that if I died my Mum might have thought I died having a good time and felt better about it all. How mad is that?!
The bit about 'leaver in beaver' i just wanted to remember because I thought it was a fun analogy for breeder sex.

Anyway, once I realise I wasn't going to die, I figured it might make entertaining blogging to note my thoughts for the night, so I decided that I would write texts to myself that i will put in my blog. The rule is what I write must go in my blog. Bear in mind I'm pissed here.
Next text

Fat bird kissed me for birthday party.

Oh my god was she fat. i have seen smaller horses. This happened when I was asked to take a photo tonight of a group of girls. I obliged, but afterwards said they had to have a photo of me in return. But fat birthday girl said she had to be in said photo of me (vain bitch). Anyway as we were getting our pic taken she robbed a full on snog off me. Yuk. She tasted bad. You know when you snog someone you aint compatible with and the taste lingers? that happened. I never liked the taste of McDonalds.

Next text

Feel ill. Got that ill feeling. Done fart. Might be wet one but not sure. Ha ha. Dancing all gay. Still in bar red.

This is true. I often get this terrible pain in my stomach when I sleep which is closely followed by a pebble dashing of the nearest bog. i had that feeling. i suspect this is down to drinking too much. Bah!

Waiting for taxi. Still no confirmation that I may have done a wet one but can confirm I have shites as I'm desperately clenching. Come on cab.

I don't think I need to analyse that text. However, i now know I didnt't do a wet one, but once I got home I did let go in my toilet. I have a story about our downstaris toilet but think I'll save it for another day.

The Collegiate 

Welcome back to my blog

Well here it is again. My blog is back together, so let's do a dance and blog.

Lots and lots has changed in my life since I last blogged, so here, I will just fill you in on where I am up to. I graduated last week. I have to be honest I wasn't particularly looking forward to the graduation ceremony, but it was actually really good, I got a buzz from it, and it didn't last too long. Pete Postlethwaite was there. It turned out to be a dear day though, at least for my Mum. What with proffessional photo's costing £35, twenty pound for a photo within the hour, about 40 quid for the DVD and then there's the t-shirt and dinner afterwards of course. It must have totally skinted my Mum....agh well.

I have a 'proper' job now. I am a car salesman in a Renault garage. I know it's what I used to do, and I am fed up of people telling me it seems stupid that I did a degree and then just went back to the job I had before, but I guess that's just life. I will probably stick this job out. I work for a massive group called Arnold Clark which is rapidly expanding, so I'm hoping to move up in the group given time. It's tough adapting back into full time employment, and I am working a lot of hours, and settling in is somewhat stressful. I guess I'll just have to stick it out and see how it goes, but I am looking forward to bringing in a proper wage (coming soon) and settling my debts.

I have lots of plans now. My folks are moving home, so I figured it's time for me to move on too, so I'm looking to get myslef a flat in Liverpool City centre. I fancy a place called The Collegiate. And I'm looking to go to India in December for a couple of weeks. I can't wait for all this to happen.

Woop woop

Well, finally I have managed to put back together my blog. I was well peeved at its destruction, and gave up on it in a huff, but now after a few comments about it, and some direction from Mr. Saxon Whittle, it has now been resurrected. Expect me to post soon!

Grrrr

It appears my friends 'helpful' improvements to my site, and HTML have resulted in my diary deleting itself, much to my dissapointment, and pain. Bear with me, a new site will be coming soon. In the mean time might I request no one posts comments, as that seems to be the trigger. Thanking you very muchness.

test

A Gay Stallion 

The Bitter End

Today is pay day. This should be great news for me. I have been incredibly short of dough for some time. This being because I sacrificed working in order to carry out my studies. Now I am able to work more and today it should pay off, and I can stop being the sponge that I have been for some time now. I don't much like it when I go out with friends and they feel they have to pay my way. I could just say 'sorry I'm not going out', but they do pressurise me somewhat, and I am weak to the forces. I have good friends. For some people it's a bit of a lifestyle to have people pay their way all the time. I know I am refering to the pubs again, but we've all met them. Those who always need a wee when it's their round, or just simply go home. This is not me. I'm a very gracious and appologetic acceptor. And I will repay my debts, my friends, I hope know this. So today is pay day. Two days ago I recieved a letter from my bank 'We're concerned that your Barclays debit card may have been used fraudulently.' And it had! Somebody in America tried to debit from my card £393.91, without success (the funds weren't available) then £1.10 in Canada (once again the funds weren't available, I know). However, back to America they did on one occassion succesfully draw a whole pound from my account. (it just struck me, exactly a pound, in America. How does that fit? Some exchange rate, but this is what I'm told). So, as the letter suggests I call the 'Fraud hotline' which I dutifully do. And indeed some one has managed to get my card details. I'm given another number to call, to which I have to apply for a dispute form. Effectively I have to call this number and ask 'can I have my pound back please?' I know I am skint, but really, do I have to do that? I'm told I must follow the procedure. It's going to cost me 26 pence in postage, and I don't know what to call these 0845 numbers, reeling of numbers and numbers, telling them the 8th letter in my secret password, and who my direct debits go to. I should be pleased really, I haven't been robbed, but the upshot is the bank has turned my card off, so I can't get at my wages, and I still haven't managed to go out and sufficiently celebrate that my degree is over. Or at least not in a guilt free fashion.
I am somewhat puzzled about where these fiends got my card details from. I probed the woman on the fraud hotline team, and she asked 'Had I ever used the internet?' I thought I'd just leave it at that.

I'm reminded now of a time when I did purchase over the internet from www.play.com A reputable CD and DVD supplier. The second time I bought from play.com it was a CD purchase, Placebo - The Bitter End. A great CD, which was subsequently stolen from my car. The CD I was sent for some reason, only the first song played on it. I find this odd, I've never had a problem with a brand new CD before. I'm digressing slightly here, but with good cause. I'd like to consider why we purchase over the internet. The three most cited reasons I suspect would be a) it's cheaper because the suppliers have smaller overheads, b) I can't get the product locally, or I am imobile and c) it's an anonymous way to make a purchase. There are many other reasons too I'm sure. Back to Placebo. I phone play.com to register my complaint and find out how I go about getting a replacement. The nice lady asks me which of my purchases is faulty 'Is it a Placebo CD or is it a DVD?' she asks. Damn it, my annonymity had been blown. I think the DVD I had previously purchased was entitled along the lines of 'Gay Stalions do it Sideways' or something similar.

Y-M-C-A 

In the Navy

I've finished my degree....woop woop. No more coursework, no more exams, no more presentations, no more posters to make. I can relax. For now anyway. I still have the itch to study, so maybe in a year I'll consider doing a Masters. But for now it's time to celebrate.

The pictures down there are of me and my friends last Sunday. We did a charity walk for Sahir House, which is a centre in Liverpool supporting those with HIV. Between us, (The Village People) it looks like we raised around £700, which is great news. So if you sponsored us, thank you for supporting a great cause.

A friend of mine recently came out. Hoorah! He's very invlolved with the church. I'm thinking Christian, but I have a very basic grasp of religeon, and may have got this wrong. Religeon in some ways is a bit like science to me. Lots of words, fundamentalist, re-born, evangelic; it all just means 'religeon' to me, and I yawn. In fact it would offend many if I was to say I don't know, nor care to learn the difference between a Catholic or a Christian. That just struck a chord with me, there is no difference, one head, two arms, two legs, one soul, one brain one heart. I'm digressing. It's odd but most of the gay people I know are very Religeous, and this is odd to me. I know very few straight people who are religeous. The reason I find this bizaar is because homosexuality is so at odds with most religeons, certainly the ones my friends are involved in. Gay people who are involved in say Cholicism, have a much tougher time dealing with being gay, because they are so torn. They are led to believe that Homosexuality is against Gods will, and people are still suggesting that AIDS was Gods way to punish us. How difficult must that be to deal with. Something you very strongly believe in battling against such an overwhelming powerful and unchangeable internal feeling such as sexuality. And those around you, often family and all your friends will be religeous too, are telling you that this fundamental part of you is wrong and evil, and will often reject you for being honest to yourself.. I'm very lucky, I'm not involved in this, my family care little for religeon and I've not been struck by lightning yet. I can deal with people thinking what they like, what I am deeply offended by is when these people suggest gay people are also often peadophiles. And they really believe it, and often, they are happy to go spreading this propaganda, and do you know what, people in the street must pass me and think those horrible thoughts. They really must. And they must feel they have to protect their children from me. That offends me. It scares me. Back to my friend who came out, sadly he's had it implied at him, and one disgusting person even asked if he'd 'Dephiled his first boy yet?' That is very offensive. Thankfully it seems his family and friends are supporting, so I'm sure he won't let it get to him too much.

This bloke just approached me and asked me if I'd arrest him, Kinky.