Sunday, 29 August 2010

I'm in a bar about 10 minutes walk from where the main gay street is in Manchester.
It's the Pride parade day. I have a rainbow flag painted on my arm.
I'm with JR-known her since I was 16
G-met at uni
I-G's friend who i've met a few times, neice of Sir Ian McKellen (who opened the parade)

I return from the toilet and hear some chav asking G why she has a rainbow painted on her face.

G: 'I'm showing my support for Pride!'
I sit down.
Chav: 'Are you gay?'
Me: 'Yes, what am I being too subtle?' (pointing to the rainbow)
Chav: 'Oh ok, I know a gay guy from work, he's alright. He gives me tips for the gym.'
Me: 'Oh, great.'
JR: 'That's such a weird thing to say. I work with someone with the same colour hair as you, he's alright. How do you feel about that?'

So i'm actually going out for pride tonight. Gotta go to my Dad's first but from about 7 it is ON. I don't know if we'll be going out tomorrow so tonight will probably be my only chance to test out my theory.

Friday, 27 August 2010

JR:Girl friend from highschool. 1 of 2 people from school I still see on a regular basis.
Texts with JR after agreeing to go and watch the Pride parade on Saturday 28th August:

JR: Can we do facepaint?
Me: We can do whatever we want. I know this is an exciting time for you, you've never really experienced much of my secret society.
JR: Haha woo! They've got facepaint sets in tesco but they're £8.
Me: You obviously know it must have rainbow colours.
JR: I've got some glitter as well (like 5 year olds glitter) so we can make it look a bit more diva-ish. My idea is that it will stick to the wet facepaint.
Me: People WILL think you're a drag queen. Maybe keep the glitter to a minimum.
JR: Ok, i've found some different paints for £2.25 but it's a bit small, shall we push the boat out and get the others?
Me: Yeah let's go wild. I'm only having a rainbow armband btw.

Thursday, 26 August 2010

What If You're Wrong?

Richard Dawkins is an arrogant bastard, but I love watching him bully religious people. I wish I could see the girl's face as he was saying this.
I need to start The God Delusion again, I only got about 1/3 of the way through and then started on something else.

Wednesday, 25 August 2010

Last Night

Why do I feel guilty when I didn't do anything wrong?

I went out last night with J, A, and Y.

J-(best) friend since we were 7.
A-J's boyfriend of about 3 years, on and off.
Y-J's cousin.

I don't mind A, I really don't. I accepted the fact that he takes complete advantage of J. He makes J pay for everything, he makes J drive him everywhere, he throws tantrums when things don't go his way, he gets in moods over nothing and talks to J like a piece of shit. But I accepted that. J did, so I did.
He's great to be around 1 on 1, in a group he tends to like the attention on himself, but when it's just me and him he's not pre-occupied with trying to make a group pay attention to him and he's actually pretty fun.
So I went on a night out with him 2 or 3 weeks ago when J went on holiday.
He pulled a really hot guy, tanned, blond shaggy hair, gorgeous smile.
He told me we could stay at his house.
He told me the next morning that he's sucked his cock.
I told him he should tell J.
He told me he wasn't going to and I shouldn't say anything.

So we were out last night and A was being a dick to J. I can't remember what caused it, but I think A was shouting at J about a guy from work J had been speaking to. And I got sick of hearing A chatting shit and told J that A had cheated on him.
I told him I was sorry for keeping it from him.
I told him I should have told him earlier.
I told him I wish I didn't have to tell him.
He told me he was glad I said it.
He told me it wasn't my fault.
He told me not to feel guilty for not telling him sooner.

But I felt guilty. I felt guilty when I wasn't the one who'd caused this. Fuck A for making me feel guilty over something he did. Fuck A.

So we all got in a taxi and took A home because J didn't want him to stay. A got out and stood at his front door pretending to knock, because that's the sort of thing A does. So J got out, banged on the door at 4am to wake up A's mother, waited until he saw her coming down the stairs and then got back in the taxi and we went back to his house.
Nothing was said about it. Nothing was said about it this morning.
I'm not involving myself anymore.

Tuesday, 24 August 2010

This weekend is Pride in Manchester. In my case it’s an excuse to get wasted for 4 days straight. I know, the gays of old worked tirelessly to bring about a world in which events like this could take place. So thanks old gays, you’ve given me the excuse to be all gay and drunk. And gay and drunk I shall be.
I’m lucky; the city I live in is all modern and cosmopolitan. I could walk down the street holding my boyfriend’s hand (if I fucking had one) and be met with little resistance. I could dry hump my boyfriend’s thigh (if I fucking had one and was a whore) on Canal Street and be met by no resistance. But would that make me proud? Am I proud to be gay?
The answer: fuck yeah.
I don’t like being part of the norm; I like having my own little world, my little community that most outsiders don’t necessarily understand. I see a lot of gay bars getting crowded by hen parties and wandering straights; but the majority of my straight friends have never set foot in the village, and if they have it was for the novelty, and experienced with some hesitation. There’s no hesitation on my part; it’s a place I feel completely comfortable. I can talk about whatever I want, to whomever I want, and not fear be concerned about being met with any hostility because of the sexual nature of a topic. And I appreciate this.

As a 21 year old gay male I still have a lot to learn. I’m not socially awkward, but I’m certainly not a social butterfly. I tend to only speak to my friends on a night out, occasionally venturing to friends of friends, but definitely no one further out of that circle. That probably explains why I don’t have a fucking boyfriend.
I’m proud, but I’m not loud. I get it, some gays flaunt their sexuality; it’s in their nature. Their limp wrists, high voices, bleached hair, wide dance moves, and orange skin are how they express it, whether they can control it or not.
Me? I’m the one standing at the bar, tapping his foot, nodding his head, drinking his pint of cider. Get me on the dance floor and I’ll sway and stamp, but it’s not my mating call. I’ll do it to have fun with my friends, not catch people’s attention. I’ll probably give you ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers if you corner me in the smoking area, and pretend I can’t hear you if you shout down my ear in the club. I’m not uncomfortable, I’m uninterested. I’m perfectly happy in my own little world, in my own little group, where we all like each other, and we have countless little jokes that no one else gets. And I know people hate that, which is probably why I don’t have a fucking boyfriend.

But I think I’m ready for a change. The problem is I don’t know what change I need to make. I deleted any gay social networking sites I was joined up to (3) on Sunday. I’ve been members of various sites since I was 17, and I’ve met 2 guys through them, but I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to answer ‘How did you guys meet?’ with ‘I was searching for a fuck…’ I don’t want to know a guys cock size before I know his eye colour.
But I’ve been unsuccessful in finding a guy face to face, so what do I need to change? I think I need to get over myself and be willing to speak to other people. I think I need to change the look on my face when a guy speaks to me in a bar. I think I need to start a conversation instead of avoiding one.

What better way to start this than at Pride. A place full of gays who are there to just have a good time; to revel in the fact that we’re all there, we’re all connected in a simple way. We may not like the same music, or read the same books, or know the same things, or even speak the same language. But we’re all there. And I need to open myself up to the opportunity, the risk, the chance, of finding…well I don’t know what I want to find. Not yet. I’m 21.
I have a lot to learn.

Friday, 20 August 2010

My Friday night.

If you haven't seen this video then you can't call yourself a gay man on the internet. So I thought i'd take the best (and by best I mean hottest/most ridiculous) parts and give you some .gif eye candy.

Let's hear it for the boys!

(My personal favourite is number 5)

Red hat guy, call me.

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

I've finally joined J's gym. It's nice and small, there's never anyone in there. Time to build and tone. I'm a gay man; I should have pecs.

Monday, 16 August 2010

Sunday, 15 August 2010

I was lying on the couch hungover from celebrating J's sisters' birthday on Saturday night when J rang me to join him in the nearby park while he was walking his dog. We made 4 circuits, found no ice cream van, saw a gorgeous boy who knows A (J's boyfriend) walking with some girl who wasn't his girlfriend, made plans for drinks later this evening, discussed last night's antics and talked about Jon who text me last night.

I wanted to take a picture of the dog but J insisted he was in it.

Friday, 13 August 2010

Monday, 9 August 2010

Friday, 6 August 2010

Something to wear and nowhere to go.

Thursday, 5 August 2010

Tuesday, 3 August 2010

I'll take the hot geek to go.

Monday, 2 August 2010

Last Night

Well, Saturday night.

I drive to J's at 11pm, he's waiting at the door with a drink.
'I've ordered a taxi, down in one.'
I follow his instructions and then we grab another for the taxi ride.
We're in Queer and i've had 2 more drinks so I text A, J's boyfriend.
'Where are you?'
'Queer, near the back at the seats, get here.'
We go over, A is with D, C and JD. They're all pretty drunk 

JD has just split up with his boyfriend P. They've lived together for god knows how long but it was a well known fact that their relationship was sexless for at least the past year.
JD singles me out and I get prepared to cock block because he has a tendency to molest me.
'Sexy -------! Nice beard. Ooh sexy (he strokes my chest) Are you team J?'
'I'm team Andy'
'Let's dance'
'Maybe later'

We head downstairs to the club room. I make my way to the toilet and some boy in a baseball cap pokes me hard in the chest and holds out his hand to shake mine.
I try to place his face, 'do I know you?'
'I don't think so, but hey i'm Carl.'
I shake his hand, 'hi Carl, I'm going.'

I grab a drink and go over to the group, A, C and D are on the crowded raised platform in the centre of the room and C is dancing with some shirtless twink.
J tells me that shirtless twink does porn, A showed J a picture of shirtless twink on some questionable website. He was naked and having a metal chain pulled out of his ass. I then see shirtless twink pull his jeans down to his knees. He'd definitely not good looking enough to get away with this shit.

Everyone goes out for a cigarette. I get in a conversation with C about how he can't enjoy a night out without coke anymore. Alcohol isn't enough for him. I tell him he's an addict.

We move somewhere else. P, JD's ex-bf is there. I like P better than JD. I say i'm going over to chat to him and JD pulls me back. Instead I go to the bar further down from where P is and just laugh when we see each other. JD eventually goes over to P and they're occupied in a corner for the rest of the night in conversation.

It's maybe 3am and C and D went missing an hour ago and now I can't find A and J. I dart past the chatting ex-lovers in the corner and make my way outside. I light a cigarette, smoke it, roll and light another. Then I text J. We walk to get a taxi and see some raging lesbian starting a fight with an old chunky gay man. Apparently he called her girlfriend a slag. God help him. She's charging through the streets and I see her call a straight guy, who's definitely stood with his girlfriend, a faggot.

We're home and A is way drunk. He starts an argument with J and ends up throwing his pizza on the floor. J pushes him and A ends up on the floor. J ushers A upstairs to bed while I finish a cigarette. I get to bed at 4am.

I go out to eat with my father, his fiancé, my sister and 3 year old half-brother.
My brother has decided it's fun to call people smack heads while slapping his forehead. I wish I could get away with that.