The Blithe Adventurer

Could it get any worse?

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 20:52:00 +0000

I come bearing bad news.

I'm 31 next week and jobless. I was made redundant at the end of Aug. Just wondering if life could get any worse. I'm so freaking bored at home it is unbelievable!

Pissed Off

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:50:00 +0000

I got so enraged writing my last entry I decided I'm kicking him out today. I'm not going to make him my problem. End of.

Wake up, Eat, Watch Porn, Masturbate then sleep.

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 15:48:00 +0000

By the way, you are on the wrong page if you’re expecting to read about my sexual antics.

I’m actually referring to a person’s daily routine. I live with the person and to be frank I’m beyond astounded. Is this what some people’s lives have been reduced to? Just because a person’s unemployed doesn’t mean they should sleep for 14 hours then only wake up to have a wank (masturbate for those who are not familiar with Brit terminology) and eat. Take yesterday for example, I was woken up by heavy breathing. I not being a heavy sleeper, woke up thinking there was something wrong with my friend. I got up and went to check on him. As I got closer to his room I saw him busy at it – pleasuring himself. I was so pissed off I just slammed his door shut. I’m a man myself and of course I do it too but I don’t wake people up in the middle of the night making noises of self satisfaction. My patience is starting to wane.

It feels like I always fall for sob stories in people. I’ll even go to the extent of falling for the story even when I know for sure the person is lying. From one of my previous posts I said that I’d allowed this guy to come live me so he could sort his life out. He seems to be doing everything but sort his life out. All that bullshit about changing the people he hangs out with hasn’t changed. There’s the drugs – lucky enough he knows stuff like that is not allowed in my flat. As soon as he gets his dole, he disappears off to meet his friends in Vauxhall for the usual – Crystal Meth .

He disappeared for a week two weeks ago; no one knew where he was not even his close friends. Only to discover after he’d came back that he had been on a one week bender. I’m concerned. I’m concerned that my offer to help is going to be thrown back in my face. He better not though – I’ll get violent on him like his last flatmates did.

He said something to me a couple of weeks ago and this raised even more concern. He’d earlier on told me that his mother had died two years ago – lies. He let slip that he hadn’t seen her in two years. How can someone go to the extent of lying about his mother’s death. Makes me wonder what else he’s lying about. The only thing I do believe about him is the fact that he has not seen his family in two year – I’m as baffled probably even more so as to why.

You must be thinking it’s time I threw him out. I’ve decided to give him two weeks if nothing changes – he’s a goner. I’m starting to feel like I need my space back – all two bedrooms; plus I’m about to start redecorating and I don’t need a trash bag ruining my beautiful atmosphere. I mean honestly! I was being kind.

I better stop, I’m starting to feel enraged.

Back at work and almost happy

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Wed, 27 May 2009 09:37:00 +0000

Yes, I'm back at work and almost happy to be back. I was begining to get bored at home. I get restless if I spend too long in doors. I was pleased when my alarm went off this morning.

I got to work, turned my PC on. Open my emails and this is the first email I opened:

It's called the streaker and it certainly put a smile on my face on this miserable spring morning.

After the chilled weeked - Shame about the weather

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 26 May 2009 10:06:00 +0000

There seemed to be so much hype about this weekend. Everyone was so excited about another bank holiday their weekeds started on Thursday. I was being sensible so I didn't. I decided I'd only go out on Friday which I did. Come Saturday I was too tired to do anything else I stayed in. Besides I got in early evening on Saturday after the night before. Yes I was out for nearly 36 hours. I've still got the stamina. No body else seemed to want to do much so we decided to stay in and order a take away. The rest of the weekend was chilled and involved lots of cleaning and DIY shops - I'm re-decorating my flat.

Sitting outside a café in Soho on Sunday, I suddenly got pissed off. I sort of forced my friends to go to another part of Soho where they weren’t so many loved up gay couples walking past. In case you are wondering, I am feeling a little lonely at the moment and perhaps a little jealous of these couples. They all look so smug and smiley when walking hand in hand saying what appears to be sweet nothings to each other. I hope I wasn’t like that a couple of months ago when I was seeing the pilot. Some of them seemed so determined to hold hands they wouldn’t let go of each other even when it started to rain. Oh romance is such a funny entity.

One the other hand, I shouldn’t be complaining. I’ve had my share of men-friends. I seem to be going to a mini drought at the moment. I’m by no means sexually starved of course. But I seem to have gotten bored of casual encounters. It’s not helped by the fact that most of my friends are single. We seem to spend too much time in each other’s company and that is every weekend. I keep wondering whether my attention to one group of friends is in turn is preventing me from noticing other people outside the circle that might be interested in me. As of last month, I started to adopt another strategy. The strategy has been to try and move in different circles. I’ve been meeting new people many of who seem to have lots of other interests other than get trashed every weekend. I’ve even been invited to Iceland in July – I’m yet to accept – I’m not sure of the motives of the guy that invited me. I’ll keep you updated on this one – we’ve been texting.

Oh just an update on the friend that’s living with me. He’s registered with a couple of agencies, I think one them rang this morning but he’s gone to register with the doctor and left his phone. I’m a little nervous about him being called for work. He doesn’t have a single pair of non-denim trousers, a formal shirt or black shoes. I can’t even lend him any of my clothes because he’s a shoe size 5 – I’m a ten. He wears size 28 trousers, I’m a 32. I guess my hands are tied this time. There’s only so much I can do to help him. I’m hopeful that he’ll start work in the next couple of weeks.

I must be mad!

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 19 May 2009 16:54:00 +0000

I am either crazy, damn, really kind or downright stupid - could be a mixture of all the four. The jury is still out in this little head that I call mine.

People that read this blog might remember that I was planning to move house a while ago. Well, I did. I move slightly further out of town and live in a two bed roomed flat alone. A couple of months ago, whilst out on a shindig I met this nice boy. Not nice in the sense that I wanted him or anything like that; he was just a nice person. He was apparently drawn to me the from the moment he met - he didn’t tell me this, his friends did. We sort of rang out with the same bunch of people so each time I wasn’t out with them he’d ask where I was etc.

As we got to know each other, I decided to pry into his life. Oh what a big mistake! He told me everything about himself and his family. The alcoholic father, the death of his mother, his gay brother that hates him, his drugged up past, the physically abusive ex-boyfriend and finally being unemployed and homeless. Ooh, I forgot to mention the escorting. He told me this over the space of about 2 hours in a club with really loud music. You have no idea what was going through my mind. I had to stop him the end and told him that it neither the right time nor place to have conversations like that. He agreed, I left and to go and get my self a couple of tequilas. I really needed them after a convo like that.

I didn’t see him for a couple of months – purely because I decided to cut down on the intake of social juice. You can have too much of a good thing sometimes to the point of wearing yourself out. Which is what I felt was happening to me.

Last bank holiday me and a friend decided to go to Trade@Orange (Fire) -yes I still go there on the odd occasion. I bumped into this friend. He went off on one again. This time he was in tears, he desperately wanted somewhere to stay. He was sharing a small bedroom in Vauxhall with no window with another girl and they were paying around £140 a week for the rent. I said I’d see.

I went away and I thought about it. I rang him about two weeks later and told him he could move in temporarily until he sorted himself out. You must think I’m mad to do such a thing. After all, I know nothing about the boy apart from all the stuff he’s told me. It could all be lies and fairy tale sob stories so he can find somewhere free to crash. All those things went through my mind before I actually said he could come and stay. Nevertheless, I’m the sort of person who can’t bear to see people suffer. I just thought he was the sort of person that needed a break from what he told me. I suspect that he ended up with the wrong crowd, which is the reason he ended up where he is. I go out more than the average person but I’ve always worried about over doing it to the extent that I end up loosing my job or home.

He’s been living with me for 3 weeks. He hasn’t been out – well living that far out of town doesn’t really encourage anyone to go out. The one good thing is that he doesn’t drink (alcohol). It’s a good thing for me because I find that I don’t drink as much when I’m around him. The one thing he does that annoys me is how much food he eats – he eats an unbelievable quantity of food. However, the boy is really skinny which makes me wonder how he manages to do that.

I have to say, it’s been good so far. How long this is going to last, I have no idea. If he does fuck up, he knows he’ll end up on the street. I hope he bears that mind.

There’ll be more of this to come. I’m sure.

The wonderer is near his return

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 21:00:00 +0000

I've been on a massive adventure - I'm still deciding on whether it was good or bad. But there massive lessons to be learned (as stated like a true project manager that I am)

No doubt, I shall fill you all in when I'm more settled and rested.

I hope you're all well and immensely happy or least trying to be. It could be a lot worse.

Ciao for now.

Just like a tornado....

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Sun, 19 Oct 2008 11:44:00 +0000

He came with as much force as a tornado; he’s disappeared in much the same way. I don’t really understand.

Me and the pilot are no longer as I said before albeit we’re still on good terms. We spent his birthday together a couple of weeks ago. After the pilot came the Psychiatrist; a really charming Scott with wonderful appendage (yes it was amazing!). I was starting to think that this was going to head to somewhere special. He’s kept me really occupied in the past 7 weeks it’s been amazing. Posting anything on here has not been on mind because my mind was centred on this one person. I was also afraid I might jinx things by talking about him – lesson learned. I must endeavour to be less superstitious in future.

It’s been 10 days now since I heard from him. I really don’t know what’s happening. Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve had no response from either texts or calls. I’m not distressed or anything like that. I’m little annoyed because I’m in limbo. I keep asking myself is he dead – definitely not because one of my friends so him catching the train to work at Waterloo. If I did something wrong I’d like to know about that too. If he has any issues I wish he’d bring them out in the open. He was even talking us going away for Christmas together. That’s down the pan. I’ve decided I’m either going to India, Spain or Cameroon for Christmas. I really curious about Cameroon – should be ok. I’ll be hanging out with American Diplomats who are really good friends of mine.

Anyway, I’ve decided to move on. I’ll keep you posted. I’m more than likely to bump into him sooner or later. Honestly I sometimes think men are more trouble than they’re worth. Crikey.

It's been a while,...

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 22:42:00 +0000

It’s been a while so I’m not sure where to start - too much has happened.

I’ll tell you about my birthday. It was amazing!!!! It sort of turned out to be a bigger party than I had expected. You see, two weeks before the actual day, I’d reserved a section in Jrink (it’s the correct spelling - thanks for noticing). The bar called me a week before and said we couldn’t have a booth because they’d over booked. They said they could arrange seating on the area near to the bar with the high stools. I politely declined. I spent most of that day at work wondering where to go/do. I’d already sent out the invites which didn’t help and it was only 5 days to go. I decided I’d go through town after work to check some venues out. On my way to Soho, I remembered one of my friends reserving an area in Bar LVPO (pronounced Lupo). I went there, checked the place out, spoke to the manager and he said they had room for about 15 more people. On top of that they’d throw in a few food platters. Yippee!! I couldn’t wait for the Saturday. I was woken up early on Saturday by someone wanting to take me out to lunch – I declined. I’ve learned years ago that an early start to birthday celebrations leads to – ruined birthdays. I decided to take it easy, stay at home, make myself a lovely lunch (alone) then meet with everyone later.

I got to the bar at 8.30pm sharp like I’d booked. I don’t like lateness when it comes to things like this. I also got a bit bored at home so I decided to head out into town. Got into the bar and shock horror - no one there. I thought ‘oh shit - this is when you realise you are not as popular as you are’. You invited all these people and no one is going to turn up. The bastards didn’t start arriving till after 9.15pm. I felt like a right knob sat there all alone drinking wine like a lone tramp on a park bench. To make matters worse they all colluded and thought it would be funny to turn up late. Like I said earlier I hate tardiness. They all did turn up in the end though even those that had not been invited. Come the end of the night (around 4.00am) there were around 30 people. We then moved to Vauxhall to extend our night of raucous fun. Good fun it was too. We started off at Embankment Bar, and then went to Fire. You’ll forgive me for I seem to have lost a couple of hours in between. The next time I looked at a watch I was dancing profusely in on the little stage thing in the main dance room. I carried on till around 2.00pm when I decided to go home. I had to get some rest because of work the next day.

We all decided to leave. I made my way to the tube I dread to think what the public thought of me. Apparently I still looked wrecked as one of my friends said. I beg to differ – although, one may argue that I might not have been able to tell. We were all going in different direction, so I decided to head off home. I took the train to Marylebone – not sure why but I think I wanted to stop off at a friend's near Harrow to pick my jacket. I didn’t mind the journey because he lives right near the station. So I got on the train, I’m not sure what happened after that but the next time I woke up I was in Birmingham New Street. It was coming to 5pm and I should have been catching some sleep, chilling out in bed or watching crappy Sunday TV. To make matters worse, there was flooding somewhere in the Chilterns, Buckinghamshire and part of the train track was flooded. As a result, there were no trains to London. We waited for almost another 1 hour for the engineers to sort the water out – how this was done I have no idea. Eventually, the train did arrive. This was followed by a human stampede all whom trying to get their bums down for the long journey. I had no more energy by this so I decided to walk, got onto the train; there were obviously no more seats left so I decided to seat on the floor. The train left, luckily, it was not going to stop anywhere between Birmingham and London. I got off and walked home and went straight to bed.

There, a massive anti-climax to what should have been a really lovely weekend. I don’t mind though because these things happen. It certainly won’t stop me going out next time.

I'm Rubbish

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 20:40:00 +0000

Sorry boys and girls,

I haven't posted in ages. Too much going on; too little time to post. Blame it on my new employers. I do, however, love the new job. I'll tell you all about it - including the row I had in the second week with one of my subordinates - can you imagine? Anyway gotta go. Ciao xxx

Happy Birthday to me!!

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 20:54:00 +0000

Yes, it's my birthday today. I'm not going to go out and celebrate the fact that I'll never be in my twenties again. Why? I'm working. I just started a new job so I can't go out and get completely lashed. I'll be free towards the end of the month and I intend to paint the town crimson - yeah forget painting it red. I'll go all out. Hope everyone invited can make it.

The Niger met the Zambezi near Hyde Park

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 15:32:00 +0000

Last Saturday I attended my friend’s wedding. I’ve talked about her before – the one getting married to a Zambian. Well, she is now. I didn’t attend the church service – they’re born again Christians and their services take so long. Before you even start saying anything, I’m well aware I should have been there. After all, we’ve been friends for nearly ten years. But, I just couldn’t bear having to sit in one place for 3 hours while all this ‘sing song’ went on for about three hours. ‘Born-agains’ are also a bit shouty whilst preaching I find – why though? They also say too many halleluiahs. Having never been to Nigerian-Zambian wedding before, I kind of assumed the service would end at 3.00pm then there would be photographs and those things in between and then get to the reception for six. I was spot on. I went with my cousin – no, the pilot wasn’t allowed to come for obvious reasons. I imagine if someone spotted us having a sneaky kiss.

We got in, looked for where we were supposed to seat. They had a seating plan you see. We got to our table only to find it had squatters – bloody typical! They wouldn’t budge even when we showed them our names on the table. We didn’t make an issue of it. We just went and sat somewhere else. It was a shame because my friend had put her friends near where she could see them. And now we were sat amongst the ladies with flamboyant head dresses – they always remind me of antlers probably because they’re all tied high and all look different. So it was a bit like being amongst a herd of dear. I’m sounding negative, but that was the first impression I got. Also no one on our table said hello. Yes we did try – I even tried smiling but we just got blank stares with expressions asking where/who this foreign lot was or from. We’re were mostly African.

We settled down then our eyes started to wonder about the place noticing things. I forgot to mention that the reception was held at Porchester Hall in Bayswater. I was a bit doubtful about the location but on entering we found that it was quite lovely. The setting of the room where the reception was held was Victorian with wood panelling and the loveliest chandlers across this really high ceiling. It was actually really stunning. Me and my Cousin were busy showing each other all these little details for around 30 mins. The room was just so beautifully decorated for the wedding. Then suddenly they started playing music. This was followed by the bridesmaids and groomsmen and then the bride and groom. They were doing this kind of mid temple dance – I can’t explain it; but it appeared to be of Nigerian origin. They danced all the way to their seats.

The MC, God bless him took over and asked everyone to stand up. Then he started praying then he asked other pastors to come pray. The pastors had their on table of about 12 – the high priests I called them. The praying went on for another 2 hours. There was me asking whether I’d actually managed to dodge the church service but obviously not. I decided I was going to have a drink. All the drinks they had were none alcoholic. I didn’t mind so much but my cousin did. She didn’t like any of the drinks so when she asked for some wine, they brought a bottle of red non-alcoholic wine. The expression on her face cracked me up – no, she’s not an ‘alkie’ in case you’re wondering. I haven’t laughed so much in ages. She felt a bit cheated that the wedding was held on a Saturday without alcohol. I’d never been to non-alcoholic wedding before so I was also a bit taken back.

The first dance was between the bride and her father – he’s got to have the last dance before giving her away for good - it’s an African tradition. She started to cry which me made me kind of emotional too – yes I know, I have emotions too. It was quite beautiful to watch. It made me realise how we’ve all grown up. Then the bride was traditionally given to the groom to dance with. The dance was just so romantic. She was still crying and he was holding her really close as if to say ‘don’t worry I’ll look after you from now on. One of the things that made me laugh was this lady who came up and prayed for the wedding cake. Only the bride and groom tasted it. Now this left me puzzled. What? No wedding cake for the guests? I really love wedding cake by the way. It was right next to me as well which was even more annoying because the cake kept on making eyes at me. I’m sure it winked at me at some point. Sorry, I think my imagination went a little crazy there. There was also the part when the couple changed into their Nigerian outfits. I have to say my friend looked really stunning in hers. Then the dancing started again. This was followed by lots of people coming and throwing money at the couple. It was actually quite a lot of money. This was £20 and £50 notes. They had a tray full of cash in bundles by the end. Well my friend’s family is quite well off. I think they had a 5 figure amount to get them started by the end of the night. What a nice way to start a marriage? Even better, they own their house already.

==========

I’m starting a new job this week. I’m so excited about it I can almost not contain myself. I’ve been waiting bloody ages for this. So, woo hoo!!! On the other hand, I keep asking myself whether the role is challenging enough. The job I currently have is a piece of piss – even my boss once told me I could do it with my brain shut off. That said something to me and made me even more determined to make a move out of this place. I was also starting to feel like my brain was wasting away. One thing it’s taught me is to ensure that you research and find out as much as possible about a job before applying for it. I did that this time. I didn’t when I applied for this one.

==========

On another note: I’ve been feeling really randy lately. Not sure this is a good thing. I even find my self looking at men’s crouches on the tube (this I can understand – there’s really no where else to look if you’re not reading a paper or book) and on the street. I haven’t felt like this in ages, I wonder if it is a sign of something. I’ve to rejoin Gaydar after deciding a couple of years ago that I’d never use it again. Yes it’s been lovely traipsing around London and looking around all these men’s houses. I wonder how long it will last because I’m actually enjoying it – probably when the next semi bf turns I guess.

That’s all folks.

Just a quick update

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 29 Jul 2008 15:28:00 +0000

It’s been ages since I last posted. I’ve had people moaning at me for not posting. So I’m just going to give you a brief update:

1. I’m sort of single. Well, to be quite honest I’m still seeing the pilot but I’m a little doubtful so my eyes have started wondering about. I’m going to put an end to it some time in the near future. The pilot said something in passing that actually made me doubt us having a future together. I’m not going to hang around and wait to find out. Time (especially my time) waits for no man. We of course remain really close. I still fancy the pants off him – the doubt within me is preventing me from giving my all. I do hope I’m not being unreasonable.

2. I was a really naughty at pride. I played away and got punished for it severely. Yes it’s true; God does work in mysterious ways. The punishment came in the form of being robbed. Not mugged but robbed in someone’s house. I pulled this guy, went back to his for a bit of nooky and then some tosser went into my bag and stole my wallet along with my I-pod. I realised when I was in the taxi on the way home. I should have gone back but I thought it would be pointless. I didn’t think anyone would own up to doing it. It doesn’t mean I won’t play away from home again. He was too delicious looking to let go. Shame about his flatmates being thieves. I had to laugh about the whole event. I found it too comical i.e. pulling someone in a club, going back to their house for a shag and then be robbed by his flatmates. What a wonderful world we live in.

3. I’m moving into my new flat at the end of the month. Woo Hoo!

4. I start a new job in the Middle of August. Even more WOO HOO! This summer’s not been that bad after all.

5. I promised to post the pics from Pride 08. I’ll do that tomorrow. I stupidly forgot my camera.

The story so far

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 12:53:00 +0000

What a way to start July. The sun’s out and it’s just so lovely. As I type this, I think I’m still drunk since yesterday. Actually I know I’m still drunk. I can hardly type. I wonder how I’ll manage going through the day. I really do. I’m not hangover; just still pissed. Bear in mind it’s only Tuesday. I have a good excuse though. I haven’t been out for a week. You see, I went to meet Silas for a coffee yesterday and ended up staying out till late – late as in the coffee seemed to last till 4.00am (forget the seemed bit, it actually did). We went to Costa Coffee, The Village Bar, Rupert Street Bar, Freedom, Arbutus Restaurant, Profile Bar, Rupert Street, Profile Bar and finally Shadow Lounge. Thank God the drinks were only £2 otherwise I’d have been crying. I feel so sorry for Silas though; he has to go to a photo shoot and his doing all the make-up for the models. I’m just hiding behind my desk my eyes are the same colour as Sanguinello Oranges and I look like an angry cat at a vets. Everyone’s keeping away from me. They think someone pissed me off this morning or that I was crying before I came in and don’t want to talk about it. All the better for me I say; I’ll manage though – I’m a soldier and the commander of my battalion.

And now for an update on the escorting. About 2 weekends ago, on a lovely sunny Sunday afternoon we all decided to go to Hampstead Heath. We chilled, ate, drank, laughed and generally just messed around. Some of the boys went swimming in the pond. I can’t (although I’d love to) swim so I stayed and watched the bags and all the other stuff we had. Time flew by, we were having fun. Suddenly this guy in the tightest swimming pants came and approached us. He wanted us to sign his petition to have the nudist area in the men’s section enlarged. Gladly we signed the petition – nothing wrong with having more eye candy on full display. The guy acting a bit odd we wondered why. Then it clicked – he was high and off his face on whatever. Again, as often happens, the intros and small chat begun. We asked him what he did and told us he was an escort. He’s 50, skinny as a rake, and he has a turkey neck. He was probably good looking in his younger days but I think the drugs, booze, cigarettes and too much sun/sun beds have taken their toil on him. That said, he earns £150 an hour. He’s been taken all over the world by his clients. They pay for all the expenses of course – flights, accommodation et al.

Silas heard this and his eyes almost popped out. Silas asked the guy all kinds of questions, what he does and what he doesn’t do (sexually) etc. I’m going to have to spare you the details; some of the stuff he does is just too vile to write about but get this he does everything you can ever imagine. All this time most of the other boys around us were listening attentively as this guy spoke about his work. In the end, he and Silas swapped numbers and he told Silas to his house in Brixton so they could talk a little more. Has Silas done it? No, he chicken out. He was hoping I’d go down with him. I simply told him to piss off. I’m not in the list curious about knowing this man and what he does. I’m not saying what he does is wrong; I’m just not interested. Much as Silas is crazy, he’s also a chicken and a small one at that. He’s completely given up on the idea of escorting and is now looking for another scheme. If I had decided to do it, I would have gone back with the man on that very day and got more information/advice. I’m sure Silas will start talking about it when things get rough.

It’s taken me about 4 hours to write this. I’m starting to sober up – Amen!

On another note, I had two lovely weeks in Ireland last month – Hence the lack to entries. I’m afraid still sweetness, delight, sunshine, stars, wonderful flowers, honey and all things beautiful on the love front. I can’t think of any other way to describe it. But, and there’s always a but; the Devil (that bastard) almost tempted me on Sunday. I ran into my ex from around 4 years ago. I almost went back to his. My ex tried to and almost convinced me to go back to his. But I came to my senses and turned him down. I’m quite chuffed with myself really. I wouldn’t have done that 5 years ago.

It’s Gay Pride this Saturday. I’m definitely going to post some pictures for a change. Some members of the battalion have even gone out and bought some outs. I can’t wait. Come on week, hurry up and end.

Wedding Bells, Fishing and a Rent Boy

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 15:50:00 +0000

I had a call from my friend Kemi who I went to Imperial College with. It was a bit out of the blue because she doesn’t keep in touch - simply out of laziness – she’s crap like that and knows it. I ask myself everyday how someone can suffer from such laziness to the extent that they can even speak to Kitara. Moving on, I asked her what was up and all that. We had a giggle and then she finally dropped it on me. She’s getting married next month. She met a nice Zambian boy when she was doing her masters and decided he’s the one. She said she’d be honoured if I could attend her wedding – ah – that moment still puts a smile on my face. So I’ll make an extra effort to attend – present in hand of course.

I’m yet too meet the Zambian boy – so I can’t say how nice he is or looks. She’s been going on about him for years but I’ve never met him. So I get to meet the lucky boy on his big day. Mind you, I don’t know how the marriage is going to work without them having never lived together. I would have thought it would be a crucial step when forming a permanent relationship. I’m I being short sighted? – Comments would be appreciated. I’m really looking forward to this wedding. I’ll get to see Nadia who was one of my best mates at Uni. She’s one of the bride’s maids. Nadia used to have a crush on me at Uni. We only snogged. I didn’t really want to waist her time. She was too pretty (still is) and really nice and I thought she deserved someone better.

Yes, you read that right. I was fisherman that used enjoy playing with coin slots. I still do sometimes – last time was a couple of months ago – I blame it on booze – no regrets by the way. Someone, years ago, introduced me to the big bulls on land I love the red meat on land I stayed. Some members of the battalion are questioning my sexuality they think I might be confused. ‘No, I’m not confused at all’ I tell them and I’m not ‘Bi’ either - I rather like the term ‘straight-curious’. I explain to them using the chocolate and cheese analogy. The white/red meat analogy doesn’t work. I love both equally. Basically, I am not a fan of chocolate; so give me cheese (the smellier the better) any time of the day and I’ll scoff it down. Chocolate on the other hand is a very occasional thing. Once every 6 months or so I get craving for it, so I stop off at La Maison du Chocolat after work and get some. I still love my cheese of course but I don’t stop and think ‘ooh I’m starting to love chocolate’. Cheese will always be number one - end of. I hope you got it. Anyway my friend thinks he couldn’t think of anything more off putting – his problem not mine.

My friend; yes, that one that thinks sleeping with women is off bought a laptop two weeks ago. He’s had his broad band fixed, bought a webcam and has started playing with himself live on camera for money. He joined some live video website which I’ve never heard of and plays with himself. He’s also started charging money for sex by setting up a commercial Gaydar profile. He’s even gone as far mapping out his postcode and he intends to serve it fully. I’m still wondering what drove him to this. He’s not desperate for money – I know for sure. He has a really well paid job, and if he needs more money, mummy’s always a phone call away. But knowing the person he is, he’s too lazy and is not the sort of person who will work hard for his money. I can’t wait to see how much money I going to start rolling in; to begin with he lives in a really shitty area - Canning Town. I can't see anyone around there wanting to pay up to £150 for an hour with him. We'll see I guess.

I’m done for this entry.

I hope you have a most pleasant weekend. Mine will be pleasant; I sure of it.

Sweetness, delight and sunshine

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 13:45:00 +0000

The weather has been so awful lately. I only noticed it yesterday because the pilot was leaving. Apart from that everything has been sweetness, delight, sunshine, honey, roses, cream, chocolate and all other things lovely and wonderful. Yes I felt the rain but I didn't seem to mind it so much. So when it rained yesterday - I got annoyed. Bloody bastard British weather!

Most people have seen it or are going to, they talking about it or will talk about sometime next week; yeah you guessed it – Sex and the City. To me it’s the only cliché gay TV show I was ever into – I tell a lie; there was queer as folk (the Brit one of course – the American one was numb-shite) and a tale of 2 cities. I’ve never been into ‘gay’ music e.g. Donna Summer, Kylie or Madonna or anything camp. I simply don’t like it – it bores me witless.

I don’t know why but I imagine I got into SATC because it had elements of life that I aspired to in life e.g. a tight group of friends, a good relationship, a good career, a lovely home, enjoying life, lots of shoes and general organised chaotic fun. I want to go and see the film but I get put off by the hoards of girls that are apparently filling up the cinemas to watch it. I asked the pilot if he wanted to go and see it; he said yeah but we’d have to wait until all the hoo-hah about it ends. That to me sounds like a lovely idea; I’m imagining us catching the last show on a Saturday night – mmm… lovely thoughts run through my mind.

On another note, the battalion seems to have disbanded temporarily whilst some of its members are being wooed and romanced. I’m seeing the pilot; Michael’s started seeing Gary from St Alban’s and Alpha’s seeing Simon who he met in Fire. There’s a story to tell there actually. The first time I met Simon, we were in the queue waiting to get into fire. I suddenly looked back at the guys behind us and there was this cute guy. He smiled and winked at me. He somehow got in front of me in the queue – I think it was because I was being searched. I cheekily smacked his bottom (I’d had a drink or four so excuse me – I’m usually a little more subtle) and said to him “move it Mr”. He laughed and got in. I thought that was the end of it, but about 45 mins later he came up to me. He said he’d been looking for me. We talked for a bit, I even kissed him (yes! things move a little faster when I’m slightly merry). At this point I knew nothing about the history between him and Alpha by the way. Alpha had seen him in the queue and not said anything to him so I assumed they didn’t know each other. We exchanged numbers and had a final snog and he asked me to call him.

I went running back to the rest of the battalion full of excitement and told them about the guy I’d met. All Alpha said to me was “I know Simon; he’s the guy I’ve been talking about all this time”. I asked him why he’d let me get carried away with this guy knowing full well that he had a history and still liked him. He said he didn’t want to speak to him because left him with a ‘lust hangover’. Alpha had even deleted Simon’s number from his phone (how some people’s brains work eh?). I found Simon again, I asked him what the history was between him and Alpha and he told me. He also thought Alpha had gone off him and that that was the reason he’d blanked him. I thought what silly boys. So I decided I’d knock both their heads together and got them talking. They’re still talking, only with a bit more enjoyment and exchanges of body fluids. It’s nice to see I have to say. I always say he’s lucky he got away because this happened around the same time I was thinking of ‘stalking’ the pilot – stalk is such a strong word it gives me shivers.

So out of the 6 of us, it just Silas and Mahdi (the newbie) who are the ‘singletons’; they’re not complaining though. They’re the sort of boys that always have admirers. There are days Silas actually struggles to find time to go home - yes you better believe it. All I can say is good luck to them both. I think I’m better suited to the position I’m in now. I can’t; can’t be traipsing, trekking and meandering across London like a lost soul days on end for a bit of nookie. I love nookie too but my formula is much less complicated than that and it works for me.

I must find Diana Ross's 'Love Hangover' Video. Yes; I know I said I don't like camp music. I just happen to like the lyrics on this one. I hate the rest of her music.

====================================================

And now for two silly jokes:

My ex-girlfriend has a picture of a sea shell tattooed on her inner thigh. If you put your ear to it, you can smell the ocean.

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A woman was talking to her friend the other day."Honestly, I dont know how I keep getting pregnant - it must be something in the air."The other woman replies, "yes, your legs."

Have a really delightful weekend.

Sweet sweet sweet

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 09:24:00 +0000

I've been M.I.A. Sorry to those that missed me too much. I ca't really explain how I'm feeling right now so I'll use Diana words:

If there's a cure for this
I don't want it
Don't want it
If there's a remedy
I'll run from it
From it

Think about it all the time
Never let it out of my mind'
Cause I love you

I've got the sweetest hangover
I don't wanna get over
Sweetest hangover

Yeah, I don't wanna get over
I don't wanna get
I don't wanna get...over

Ooh, I don't need no cure
I don't need no cure
I don't need no cure

Well I don't think it's love quite yet. But I hope I'm on the way to it.

Birthdays and family affairs

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Mon, 19 May 2008 14:46:00 +0000

I had a really eventful weekend – nothing new there! My weekends are always eventful. I went to new friend’s birthday party on Friday. It had to be the most un-gay birthday party I have ever been to. There were six of us ‘usuals’ and about 25 girls – too many fannies and not enough cock. It was alright I guess, I think I expected to have a lot more fun but the screeching and screaming from the pissed girls ruined the evening. I don’t know what it is about girls but some of them seem to get overly excited when they’re around gay men. I find that it grates on me sometimes. I’m like ‘I love cock just like you – get over it!’

Saturday was yet another birthday party for PP one of my ex-colleagues. This entire month is filled with friend’s birthdays. There’s a party every weekend till the end of the month. It wasn’t a raucous party or anything like that. It was really civilised. We were talking, eating and laughing. I laughed a lot or made people laugh. I seemed to be on form. This time there was a perfect balance between the boys and girls. It was gay house in South West London. The night ended with everyone still wearing their clothes which was a relief. It wasn’t a long nighter; we left at 1.00am with deaf/hearing couple who were quite interesting. The deaf one was really pissed. I kept on asking his hearing partner all about their relationship for example how they argued and things like that. I wondered whether I was annoying him but he said it was cool and that he was happy that I was inquisitive about their relationship.

We got the bus in Balham to Clapham and went to meet my cousins who were in Bootylicious at the Colosseum . I can’t say it’s the most brilliant night I’ve had. It was only fun because I was there with my gay cousins – a lovely family affair. My cousin Jacqui took lots of pictures which will no doubt end up on Facebook. I’m dreading that because some of them are quite incriminating. I got overly amorous with a family friend – we’re not blood so it’s OK. I’ve always not really fancied but been rather curious about him since he came out years ago. He had his arm around my waist most of the evening. He’s now gone and made me slightly confused and some what thrown me off course slightly with my big fish that I’m trying to reel in. I hate it when things like this happen. My romantic life seems all too complicated, erratic and zig-zaggy. There are sometimes too many men and not enough time.

Anyway, I don’t think I’m going back to Bootylicious; it was the first and last time. I just found it too ghetto for me. It lacked that certain atmosphere that made me want to go back. There seemed to be many kids kinda like the ones you get on buses playing loud music from their mobiles. There were also a couple of fights between lesbians – why? I don’t and wasn’t particularly interested. The whole night just seemed chaotic.

We left in the morning and headed to Silas’s in North London. We made breakfast, had a kip and went back into town for drinks with Sian. I left them at 9.00pm and headed home; I was quite tired and really wanted my bed. So, I jumped on the Piccadilly line west bound. It wasn’t long before I dosed off. I woke up at nearly 10.00pm in bloody Heathrow. The only reason I woke up was because the train had terminated. I just laughed at my self and jumped on the train back east bound. I got home at nearly 11.00pm and headed straight to bed. I didn’t speak to anyone in the house. I crashed out; woke up this morning feeling as fresh as daisy.

A little entry about my fish

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Fri, 16 May 2008 11:55:00 +0000

Two entries on the same day; well it’s Friday afternoon and I’m all alone in the office.

I keep forgetting to tell you about the big fish that is Andrew. I’m still reeling him in. He’s a pilot you see and flies quite a bit. But we spend most times he’s back in London together. In words of a Jamaican “every-ting sweet and nice”. I get really giddy; excited when I know I’m going to see him. I disappeared on Sunday and came back on Wednesday. My cousins almost called the police because they didn’t know where I was. I had my phone with me so I don’t know why they were worried all they had to do was ring. Not sure I would have answered anyway - I was enjoying myself; I really was. I just wish I could spend a little more time with him than I am now. I’m not going to bore you with all the gooey romantic moments that we share. It is just, just so lovely at the moment. The sun is shining in my heart and I seem to be forever smiling; even now as I type this.

===========================

And now for a sick joke (shows you how scattered my mind is) but it made me laugh:

This guy wanked over a blind girl yesterday. He says she never saw him coming.

A Scary Encounter With 'G'

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Fri, 16 May 2008 10:27:00 +0000

Everything that’s worth writing about these days seems to happen around the random people that I meet. Before anyone says anything; the encounter was around someone else high on ‘G’. I’m not eager to try things like that. I really wouldn’t want to after the experience I went through being around someone high on it. I’m starting to wonder if my guardian angel is trying to tell me something.

I was again invited round someone’s flat after a few drinks in town. I wasn’t alone (thank God); I decided to take Silas along with me because I know he is a trooper, a ninja, and the most hardcore of all in the battalion. I’m sure you’ve heard me say he has no ‘stop’ button. Anyway, we left The End after the final dance for Discotec (another wicked mid week event closed for the last time – shame). We strolled into Soho, with some randoms stopping along the way, stocking up on food and drink. There were only 3 randoms when we got to Soho; Ed (oriental), Mikey (English – so so hot!!) and a Ghanaian guy whose name I can’t remember – no point trying to remember- I found him really annoying and we continually clashed the whole entire time I was around him. I think his name was something boring and colonial like Johnson.

We got to Wardour Street in the wee hours. The flat was on the 4th floor. It was an absolute nightmare having to take all those flights of stairs pissed. The stairs seemed never ending but we made it in the end and got into the flat. There was no need for intros as we’d done all that on the way into Soho. That flat was an absolute fucking tip. See below. The bathroom was, however, somehow kept spotless. It didn’t make any sense that everywhere was a mess apart from the bathroom. There was no room to sit anywhere in the lounge – it was too messy.

The flat looked something like this.

We agreed to go and sit on the roof terrace. It was a nice warm morning so it seemed like a good idea. Mikey pulled out a small bottle from his pocket. I asked what it was he said it was ‘GBL’. Then he offered me some; I politely declined. The liquid smelt vile anyway like paint stripper – I found out this week it is actually paint stripper. It didn’t take long for him to get the hit. He was kind of sitting down then he sort of keeled over slowly onto the floor. I asked Ed if Mikey was going to be alright; he said yeah and that he did that all the time. I found out that that he’d collapsed because he’d taken a little too much – not too much to overdose though. After a while, Mikey started to spasm uncontrollably. I’d never seen anything like it so I was shitting myself thinking he’s going to die. When this all started the other guys had gone downstairs to the kitchen to get drinks. I was getting worried and actually scared. So I shouted for Ed to come. He came and held Mikey while he spasmed uncontrollably. I started to wonder whether to call an ambulance. Ed said that Mikey would be alright. Then suddenly, Mikey fell asleep and Ed said we should leave him to sleep the ‘G’ off.

I had sobered up completely by this time and went downstairs to join the rest. It was around 7.00am and the others were dosing off. I couldn’t do that knowing there was someone up on the rooftop I wasn’t sure was just asleep. So I went back on the rooftop to check on Mikey. He was covered in sick. He’d thrown up all over himself and the really expensive Marc Jacobs coat he was sleeping on – see how people die? So I shook him almost violently until he woke up. I called everyone and they all came and we helped Mikey down. We had to strip him and help him get into the bath. The bath helped a lot. He woke up fully but seemed a little dazed. I’d had enough by this time, so I told Silas to get ready because we were leaving.

After the whole experience of seeing someone spasm like a spastic, vomit all over themselves; I was left wondering where the fun is in taking ‘G’. I certainly didn’t see Mikey enjoying himself high up wherever he was. Well he wasn’t even high, he was passed out on the rooftop and looked more like a wet, wilting lettuce. I’m too vain to let other people see me in such a state. So I’ll definitely try and avoid reckless people like that in future.

One night in Kennington

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Fri, 09 May 2008 10:46:00 +0000

I said in my last post that some of the drama that went on last week deserved its own entry. Some to be quite honest was eye opening and some I thought was just crass, weird, odd and worrying.

Occasionally when we go out partying we meet/make friends with random people or random people make friends with us. In fact, this is how I met some members of what I call our battalion. For example, I met Alpha clubbing in Fiction at the Cross (I was peeved off when it shut). He wanted to carry on partying so we invited him to come along with us to Fire. We haven’t looked back since and we’ve been friends for over 5 years now. I also met the Viking out partying 6 years ago. He was visiting London for the 1st time and wasn’t sure where to go so we invited him to hang out with us. Over the years there’s been many; some have come and gone and others have hang around but remained in the distance.

On the Friday I changed the locks to my former flat, I’d arranged to meet with Michael and some other South Africans. I got to Angel around 7pm as agreed. The boys were already in there so I was pleased because I wouldn’t have to hang around loitering like a lost soul. We started the fun, going from bar to bar, stopping off here and there for a little dance and then carrying on again. Thank God, I was pacing myself otherwise I was would have been completely trolleyed by 10.00pm. Come 1.00am, most of the boys were tired and wanted to head off somewhere more chilled. One of the guys rang his friends and asked what they were up to. His friends said they were just chilling at their house in Kennington (the friends are a gay couple in their early 40s and have been together for 16 years).

We got to the house, got in, and started on the introductions and small talk i.e. getting to know each other and all that. We got a tour of the townhouse – yeap; they own the whole bloody thing! And only the two of them live in it.

So, we came back, sat down and drinks started flowing; so did the conversation. All the boys started to loosen up the more they drank. Then, one of the hosts took his jeans off. He told us that he gets really hot when he’s drunk at home so he strips. 30mins later, everything came off. I was like fair enough, you’re in your house, your rules. Anyway nudity has never bothered me. The naked host sat down and carried on talking like him being naked was the most natural thing. No one said anything. Then the host started to play with him self – kind like young boys do in a non-sexual manner. He was doing this for about 30 mins, then he started to get harder and harder till he had a proper hard on. By this time, I’m thinking ‘OK’. He’s lucky, he’s one of those men with a nice cock – yes I’ll admit it, it was nice to look at.

He got up from where he was sitting and sat on the same sofa as me and Michael with his hard on intact. He wanted Michael to play with it. I didn’t even flinch; I just got off the sofa and sat on the floor. Then their wolf came in and lay down next to me – yes it was an actual Wolf (very tame though). The conversation carried on while these two were sat on the sofa with my Michael softly stroking the host’s todger. The one thing that maybe surprised me was that the host’s boyfriend was sat with us while all this was going on. He said it did not bother him; in fact he encouraged them. The host was walking around the house, serving drinks for hours and all the time, he was walking around with a hard on. I asked whether it didn’t hurt after a while he said no. He’d been doing this since he was a teenager and it didn’t hurt anymore.

We drunk lots more champagne, I got drunk and decided to go to bed; I let them carry on. Me and Michael woke up at 11.00am and went home. Michael told me on the way home that he’d blown the host whilst I was a sleep on the sofa – yeah, I know; skanky bastard right?

A week long encounter with my landlord

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Wed, 07 May 2008 14:07:00 +0000

I hate being at work when the weather’s lovely. Whilst I really love the sun it also makes me lazy at work. I’ve been sat here gorking at boys walking past in their vest tops and tight t-shirts. I’m basically just sat here doing bits and pieces of work but mostly daydreaming about being outside.

In case you weren’t aware I was off last week - interesting week I had off indeed. I mentioned before that I was having problems with my landlord. My flat needed loads of repairs e.g. the sash window that broke after the minor earthquake, the pedantic heating and the main front door doesn’t shut properly. My flat is in a lovely old building but as you know they need a lot of love. So, I decided last month that I was going to withhold the rent until he made the made the repairs. I got home on the 26th April to find the locks changed. I didn’t panic; one should never in these situations. I calmly left and spent the night at a friends.

I got up early, rang a friend who happens to be a solicitor and asked his advice. To my pleasure and joy, he told me the landlord would have to get a court order before changing the locks and that what he’d done was illegal making him liable for prosecution. He’d basically made me homeless illegally. He advised me to either go to court and try and get an injunction to get reinstated into my flat or change the locks because I had the right to. I chose the latter since the injunction would have taken some time it was also close to the bank holiday so nothing could be done. He gave me locksmith’s number who then came over and changed the locks. The locksmith did his job and then handed me the new set of keys. This was Friday afternoon, I had arranged to have time off from this day and had made plans so, I got changed and went out. There was more drama when I went out but I tell you about that later. It deserves an entry of its own. Believe me on this one!!

I got back on Saturday afternoon and jumped into the shower. An hour later, the landlord turned up demanding to be let into the flat. I refused of course and politely told him if he tried to break the door down I would call the police. I did this behind the safety of the double Chubb locked door of course. This man is about 6’5 and built like a rugby player, all the time he was shouting I was shitting myself and thought he was going to smash the door down then come and beat me up. For some unknown reason I refused to back down until he left. I remained in the flat till about 7pm when I ran out of cigarettes – I’d smoked about 15 in 3 hours. I was shitting myself about leaving the house in case he was sat in his van around the corner. I left the flat but I took the back route then managed to sneak back in. All this time I wasn’t worried about being thrown out by him, I think I was more afraid for my safety but I stupidly carried on. At around 10pm, I got bored and went into town to meet my friends.

I didn’t get back till Tuesday, by which time I had decided I would temporarily move back to my parents’ house. I rang the landlord on Thursday morning after doing all my packing and told him he could have his flat back. I’d also rang a man with a van before ringing the landlord. The landlord was at my flat within 15 mins screaming and shouting. I was prepared and armed with most of my friends so he chilled as soon as he saw them. He was basically stuffed. We moved out all the stuff peaceful. By this time the relationship between me and the landlord had broken down and I didn’t feel I wanted to live in the flat and area – much as I love Maida Vale. The best thing was that the stupid landlord left before I did, so, to punish him a little more I double locked the door again. He’s going to have to break it down to get into the flat. As stressful as the week was I feel I actually quite enjoyed it.

A good ending to a rather decrepit week

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 13:34:00 +0000

Yeah, this week’s been a bit crap. Not going to go into details; I don’t want to because I’ve been moaning all week to my friends. I feel a little bummed out all round.

On a brighter note:

Good news 1:

I passed the exam I took at the beginning of the month. I’m surprised I passed because I didn’t even finish the paper. I only did 7 out the 9 questions. The exam was 3 hours long and felt completely drained after the 7th question. I was dreading having to tell my boss that I’d failed considering the organisation had shelled out a lot of money for me to take the course. So, thank God I passed. I hope I get to see the financial rewards soon.

Good News 2:

Through sheer luck yesterday, I met a friend of the guy I met last Friday on the way home from work. No, I was no where near Putney (SW London) in case you’re thinking I’d put my stalking plan into action. It turns out that won’t be necessary; I would never do such a thing. But truthfully speaking, I was thinking of making a trip down to South West London to see my friend Clare who happens to live on the same street as him. Good God, I’m listening to myself think while I type this and I sound desperate. Let me make it clear – I’m not desperate for any man or love at the moment. This one happens to be special and I’m not giving up on him just like that. I want him and only him – there I’ve said it. And since he’s that little extra special I think I should put a little more effort into it. Anyway, I exchanged numbers with this Mister and we’re all planning to meet up this weekend for drinks. And yes that includes my Mister; his friend assured me that he’d drag him out - come what may. So I remain hopeful again this weekend.

I’m not making apologies if I sound like a desperate man-eating gay shark!

A Most Wonderful Brief Encounter

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Wed, 23 Apr 2008 10:42:00 +0000

I met someone on Friday that’s left me confused, baffled and wanting ‘man-hair’ of a dog. Since Saturday afternoon he’s all I’ve been thinking about. He was absolutely lovely, lovely, lovely; really witty and affectionate. The one bad thing is that I forgot to get his number after breakfast in the café near mine. I remember his first name but I’m not sure how he spells his surname. I really feel like going on the hunt for him because I know the street he lives on in Putney. I also know where he works. The only thing stopping me is not wanting to seem like a stalker. I’m mystified about what to do; I really am.

I always thought things like this only happened to other people and I think I understand now. I’m going to try and Facebook him; I’ll try all possible spelling combinations of his surname. One of my friends thinks I should just leave him alone because we’re bound to meet again at some point. We hang out in the same places but I can’t believe I’ve never noticed him or seen him around. Knowing me, I probably didn’t look at him twice thinking he was out of my league. You see, he’s absolutely gorgeous; not in a pretty boy sense but a handsome with sex appeal sense. He also had a warm face which made look like a really nice person. I also like the way he’s face lights up when he smiles.

Suddenly, I feel like there’s hope out there on the love front. I’ve had my fair share of ‘slap dash’ relationships and feel a little bored of them. They weren’t miserable or terrible relationships but I felt there was something missing. Oh I don’t know,… It might just lust for all I know but I suppose only the future will tell.

Beware of Scruffy Dogs

noreply@blogger.com (Kitara) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 11:06:00 +0000

Yes beware. If you’re on a date and the other person turns up looking scruffy having made no effort at all, looking dishevelled and untidy then they’re probably scruffy in the head too. Yes, beware.

One of my best friends experienced something really embarrassing on a date last week. Like I said in the last post, I wasn’t in party mode last week. So one of my friends decided they’d go on a date instead. He’d been planning to meet up for drinks with this guy for ages but hadn’t found the time because he’d been travelling a lot lately. He rang the date and they both agreed they’d meet up at a really popular bar in the Village. They both arrived within minutes of each other; which my friend thought might be a good sign. They sat down, my friend went to the bar to get the drinks in, got back and they started on the small talk of getting to know each other – they’d previously only chatted online not about themselves but about their manginas and the things they wanted to do to each other. Apparently there were uncomfortable silences whilst they chatted and generally the conversation wasn’t flowing. The date decided that he was going to the toilet and that he’d return in secs Law and behold the boy never came back; he ran off. I felt really bad for my friend, he only realised after about 25mins that his date had disappeared (forgive my friend he’s a bit slow sometimes). He was so furious he wanted to ring his date and give him a piece of his mind. I talked him out of it; I thought it would be pointless. I explained to him that if I was the date that had ran away, I’d have probably switched my phone off or just ignored any phone calls from him. This eventually calmed him down a bit.

When he calmed down I asked him what his date looked like. He described him as a scruffy looking, unemployed, and smelly Scotsman that he wasn’t even attracted to when he saw him in real life. He added that he looked more or less like the drug pushers you get on the corner of Brewer and Rupert St. I asked why he went through with the date; he explained that he thought it would be rude to just leave. My advice to him was to make a polite but realistic excuse and leave early next time he was faced with the same problem. I personally don’t see the point of people wasting each other’s time. If there’s no chemistry then no chemistry. We don’t live in some sort of lab trying to figure out how to fuse things together using various compounds, solutions, solvents and elements. To me, if things don’t work then they don’t and I move on. That’s not to say I follow a rigid regime, I also believe in giving people a chance and first impressions aren’t always right. Manners are also key so is treating other people how I’d like to be treated. One would think that is little to ask but you find there are imbeciles out there - total and absolute C**TS like this date for example. This might sound strange, but I’m really interested to know why he ran off like that. I’d want an explanation. The bastard didn’t even have half his drink. I’m still baffled, confused and shocked at the behaviour of certain men. I’ve had enough of talking about this idiot that I don’t know so, end of.

I’m tempted to ask my friend to try and do things differently; he’s been on numerous dates, maybe about 30 this year alone but no results. I want to know what he’s doing wrong. I think it’s time we both had a chat. He also uses Gaydar a lot. I would be really interested in finding a couple that actually met on Gaydar and had a successful relationship. I don’t doubt at all that they exist but I’m a sceptical about forming relationships with people on Gaydar and online in general. I find the old way of meeting people is best, whether people meet in a bar club or supermarket or even better through friends. It’s not that I haven’t explained to this friend of mine - I tell him all the bloody time. He just won’t listen and end up wanting to say to him ‘I told you so’. I’m getting bored of saying that to him as well. Oh, I don’t know…

On another note, I've gotten over my moodiness. Funny how a smile from a stranger can turn things round within seconds. I think I'll try and get the same train as I did today. That smile was something else this morning. It did wonders for me. I'll keep you posted.