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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.