For The Love Of …

While in town yesterday, having a wander round the poky shops in the back streets, a rather cool looking woman handed me a flyer for a club!! Imagine my delight - me, who usually gets passed over by the flier-ati for those less likely to break a hip or drop their Sanatogen on the dancefloor - handed a flier! in the street!

Eager to find out just what sort of hip young toe-swinging joint I was being considered for, I read the leaflet.

A classic rock/metal club with it’s own lap dancing lounge.

Apparently, I look like the sort of Dude who’d Rawk out to Deep Purple then pay a young lady to gyrate in front of me. These moments of excitement are so short lived.

On to the Gay Pride parade. Lorry loads of The Gays having a whale of a time if I’m any judge. Being somewhat uneducated when it comes to the gaysexual scene, I was both intrigued and downhearted by the “Bear Lovers”. Apparently neither zoologists nor fey teenagers with Winnie-The-Pooh t-shirts, but a group of gay men dedicated to the admiration of furry blokes with ample bellies. In short, men who look a bit like me. If only there were a group of such admirers whose members were solely heterosexual women. Real Ale and Deep Fried Pizza would become an aphrodisiac. My life would be complete.

I’ve never had cause to question my sexuality before but the sight of a spectacularly attractive bikini-clad lesbian on stilts stirred some deeply impure thoughts within me. Does this mean that deep down I may actually be An Lesbian? I shall ask one of my gay lady-friends for an application form.

Purr-esent

The cats appear to have noticed that Night-Time Feeding Human is no longer around and Morning-Time Feeding Human is quite miserable about it and not concentrating on the important matters of domestic life i.e their endless cycle of eating and sleeping, so they decided to cheer me up by leaving me a present.

Specifically, a dead mouse carefully placed by my Morrissey book.

At least, I hope that’s the reasoning and it’s not a Mafia-style warning sign. As I am now the only vegetarian in the house, they may be plotting against me. The symbolic juxtaposition of Moz and Dead Mouse are hard to miss.

Maybe I should start locking my bedroom door.

Update

I know it’s been pretty quiet round here for a bit, but it’s probably going to stay that way for a little while.

As some of you know, Sophie and I are splitting up. I still love her to pieces but she feels she needs to live on her own so she’s going to stay with our friend up in Dunoon until she finds somewhere permanent.

As my head’s in a bit of a mess at the moment, I’m not going to bore you all with self-pitying rambles. As Sophie put it, normal service will be resumed sometime.

Soon, hopefully.