Orange, Arancia, No...

Somehow this commercial beggars belief. The scantily clag animals and the buff bear type, coupled with suggestive pelvic thrusts and animal NUDITY is all a bit much for me...

I think we're already dead...

I was laughing so much...

When I checked out this site today. Trust me, you won't regret it at all. And yes, that is a cake made to look like a bottle of washing up liquid. I should perhaps get one made for OH, lemon sponge flavour just so he understands that as much as I love him I'd appreciate it if he did the dishes more frequently. Actually, I'd have one made in the shape of Toilet Duck instead...*

*Actually we have a cleaner so its a joke, but that cake is real.

Ash...

When you realise your mouth tastes like the rancid water that is rinsed from a Guiness soaked ashtray being left out in the sun too long, its time to stop.

Polyamoury?

I have yet to get myself fully back into gear and as a result over the next few days this is will form another list of random thoughts as they manifest themselves and I try to get them down, and hopefully be coherent in the process:

Polyamoury/polyamouressness(?)
I mostly go through blogs when on the internet, reading about other peoples passions and habits, and what they get up to and their respective opinions on a wide range of matters. In a way its my equivalent of living life vicariously through others while I'm at my desk job. More often than not, I'll be focussed on a blog, brow furrowed and nodding along in agreement to a well written piece, or skipping through some of the naughtier blogs with a slight embarassment that I may be caught reading inappropriate material, but somehow flushed with a perverse excitement that somehow the work system did not filter that one so it can't be that bad. Let me tell you something though, there is a lot of filth and depravity in some very benign looking pages.

So, today I'm doing the same thing and I happen across a blog written by a polyamourous man. I first came across the concept of polyamoury through a friend of a friend, at a party. I thought the person that caught my eye was gay, and thought that a bit of flirty banter would do my ego good, besides, OH was in the room and he'd reap the benefits of my ardour later when we got back later on. I discreetly enquired of my new friend of the evening, Lady Wolf, and she peered at me over her glasses and winked at me saying 'oh, he's got a girlfriend, but he's polyamourous'.

Polyamourous? What's that then? I pushed my new friend. I think by this time too many gin and tonics and beers had worked its way into our systems so while she was trying to describe an aspect of it, along with the rules and roles, I was too caught up trying to understand the emotional control and discipline one would have to employ in engaging in this game. It transpired that later on I managed to get a clearer idea along with a proper explanation of the whole rigmarole, but let me tell you something else, its not for everyone.

Thinking about this in greater detail, it reminds me of a conversation I've had with OH, and with previous exes. Namely that of the difference of open relationship and cheating. We all have our views on this topic, and as a gay man there are even more opinions given the testosterone and torrid feelings we experience when someone other than your significant other arouses desire within you. How would a gay couple view polyamoury? Its certainly very 'having your cake (or should that be cock?) and eating (sucking?) it', but I think that despte all the glitz and glamour that some people perceive in the (gag) 'Gay World' and behind the fabulous-dinner-party façade, the cultured night-at-the-opera front, the deep-and-thoughtful prose on the shelves, we are inherently simple creatures, simply wanting love and devotion. More bluntly, love and devotion from one person and one person only. Perhaps I'm being wildly naïve here, but that is the drift I get from many of my friends, the happy ending, the wanting to find Mr. Right, Knight in Shining Armani etc. I don't think polyamoury would, or could work being gay.

In my view it would be called cheating. And as much as we like the thrill of the unknown, of someone different, emotionally most gay men I know are fragile wrecks, having to deal with coming out to themselves and then to the world, and cannot entertain the notion of their Mr. Right, or Mr. Right Now, being callous enough to segment their emotions into a seperate compartment for someone else. That is why there are rules in open relationships, but while trust is a large element in every relationship, having an open relationship calls for an even larger amount of trust, namely that with the physical act of sex it ends there, and no emotions are invested in the person, hence, the one-night-stand would be okay if its not talked about, but seeing the same person on an ongoing basis for sexual gratification is not. OH and I are not in any way in an open relationship, and despite the initial indifference I threw at him in the beginning of the relationship, we have subsequently talked about it and over a beer in Bangkok (yes, the irony isn't lost) we have admitted that although we trust each other implicitly, the guilt would just be too much to bear.

Okay, U-turn, I think that the point that I was trying to make to myself is mainly that perhaps my emotionally retarted, fuckwit of an ex was unknowingly polyamourous. Certainly viewing his behaviour with 20/20 hindsight would attribute a lot of his actions, and even more so now hearing through others and viewed from afar.

But I think I'll stick with the fact that he's just a c*nt.

Wistful moments...

In yesterday's meme, #27 reminded me of a song that I love but do not have. This is it below.

I remember first hearing it in my failed first year at uni (that's a long story but I dropped out and went back 3 years later) through a guy called T. Deadly sexy in that 'I don't give a shit about most things', tormented and bohemian, I fell in love with him, hook line and sinker. Although I was told repeatedly that he could never make the relationship work, I gritted my teeth and lied barefaced that I didn't care. 8 years on, the memory of him kissing me remains and I am still in love with him, but it is a romantic notion I entertain, rather than a reality I seek.

i hope this song moves you as much as it does me.

Finish the sentence...

Shamelessly lifted from Troubled Diva (my new fave blog read).

He's got fab answers to these, but its a fun exercise and it fills the time rather than me being bored at work, and it gives you lovely people an insight to my psyche/madness/humdrum existence (delete as appropriate).

1. My uncle once: told me my grandparents couldn't understand the concept of people being gay. To them gay was being camp and effeminite and wanting to dress up in women's clothes.

2. Never in my life: have I regretted leaving my well paid job to go back to university.

3. When I was five: I moved to the Far East with my parents and stayed there for 12 years.

4. High school was: spent agonising over why the Head Boy didn't feel for me the same as I did for him, or if I should pretend that I liked girls.

5. I will never forget: the look OH gave me when I said that caviar and buttered toast reminded me of my childhood.

6. Once I met: a fashion designer that I then slept with. I came back to London and told everyone about it but they just smiled and nodded thinking the story to be false. Two weeks later everything that I'd learnt was published in a magazine interview and I had a nice time being smug to my friends.

7. There’s this girl I know: who jumped into a pool then panicked because she later couldn't find the tampon she had on.

8. Once, at a bar: I got off with a hot guy that turned out to be a girl.

9. By noon, I’m usually: thinking about what to cook for dinner, or who I'm meeting for a drink after work.

10. Last night: OH was away in Paris and it was raining heavily so I went home, had a few beers then watched a movie and had some dinner then bed. I still got to bed way later than what I'd promised myself.

11. If only I had: rebelled and insisted on learning to drive when I was younger I wouldn't have to take the sodding driving tests now at age 28.

12. Next time I go to church: will be in September to show my friend who's visiting around the town.

13. What worries me most: is being made to look incompetent at work.

14. When I turn my head left I see: the hallway that links my office to my bosses office. Sometimes the toilet door is left open and because the door is mirrored, I see myself instead.

15. When I turn my head right I see: a pigeon looking at me through the window.

16. You know I’m lying when: the stories are inconsistent.

17. What I miss most about the Eighties is: being less than double digits and I only had to worry about homework.

18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: Sir Toby Belch, cousin to Olivia in Twelfth Night. Because he's a drunkard and I'd like to be a knight. But most of all I just like the name.

19. By this time next year: I hope the apartment will be fully furnished and I won't have to buy any more main pieces.

20. A better name for me would be: Gin Martini- strong, packs a punch, yet exquisitely louche.

21. I have a hard time understanding: why politicians exist.

22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: make sure I try and be more sporty so I'd have a better physique.

23. You know I like you if: I invite you over to dinner chez nous.

24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: the person who was most active in supporting me for the award.

25. Take my advice, never: snort ecstasy, or ProPlus, or start smoking just to look cool. The first two gives you a nosebleed and the latter stains your teeth.

26. My ideal breakfast is: fried eggs, sunny side up, followed by scrambled eggs, then eggs Benedict.

27. A song I love but do not have is: Mr BoJangles as sung by Nina Simone.

28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: are careful when you took your wallet out on the streets.

29. Why won’t people: email me back immediately after I've emailed them?

30. If you spend a night at my house: you'll have a selection of random travel-sized toiletries with your towel, depending on where we've been on holiday.

31. I’d stop my wedding for: a fag break. Or a multibillion dollar deal that's in my interest.

32. The world could do without: hypocrisy. Or time.

33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: eat liver.

34. My favourite blonde(s) is/are: Mrs. CPS from Mayfair and Gwen Stefani.

35. Paper clips are more useful than: melon scented handcream.

36. If I do anything well it’s: likely to result in an empty plate.

37. I can’t help but: wonder at the trajectory at which my career progression is taking, or should take.

38. I usually cry: at the end of Philadelphia, Priscilla or at intense movies. Or when I look at my bank balance before payday.

39. My advice to my child/nephew/niece: is to take your time, but focus on what you want to do and not to let others bully you into a career you're unsure about.

40. And by the way: I need to remember to collect my Breitling and drop the Tag off for the batteries to be replaced.

I'm tagging: Stornisse and Fastfingers, just beacuse they're the only people who I know who read this drivel.

Picture perfect...

As promised, some holiday snaps take with my new toy:

Isn't it just the sexiest little camera? And its RED. I've decided that all my portable electronics will be RED from now on.



Okay, on to the pictures...




Amazing temple of Borobudur, Central Java.



Golden Mound, Grand Palace, Bangkok

Impressive columns, Grand Palace, Bangkok

Sunset on the Chaophraya river, Bangkok

Stone bell jars in Borobudur that house enlightened Buddhas, Central Java

An active volcano, Central Java

Iguana at the bird market, Yogyakarta

Rabbits at the Bird Market, WTF? Where are the birds? (Yogyakarta)

Tamansari Water Palace, Yogyakarta

Tai-tai time! Fish spa relaxation where these fish native to the Middle East nibble away at the dead skin on your legs so you leave with baby soft feet. Its all the rage with rich housewives- Kuala Lumpur.

Sawadee... Crap

Hello you wonderful Simian-reading denizens. I'm back from the 17 days of non stop travel, intense humidity and choking smog that covered, Kuala Lumpur (Malaysia), Jakarta, Bandung and Yogyakarta (Indonesia), Bandar Seri Begawan (Brunei) and Bangkok (Thailand). A quick list of notable things before I write more:

- Stuffed myself on hotel buffet breakfasts every day with the self-delusional fact that 'eating well at breakfast will stave off hunger pangs for the rest of the day and one will stay slim on holiday', and still managed to have 5 square meals after breakfast.

- Had a dynamic shift in waist sizes in one day, from 31" at Dockers, to 34" at Replay and 28" from some unknown brand at a Factory Outlet Store.

- 2 massages, both which required me to don my birthday suit, and to turn over half-way which made me very conscious when the masseurs were massaging my upper thigh.

- Went to 2 Japanese buffets and ate 50 sumo wrestlers worth of sashimi and tempura.

- Woke up to the realisation that when trinkets as souvenirs fail to grab your attention, and you're more interested in the antique hat stand with mother-of-pearl inlay that one is inevitably older and hopefully wiser from not buying ornamental tat to fill up the shelves. Although I still managed to spend over 5 million rupiah on tribal baskets and a bircages in Indonesia and over 12k baht in Thailand on silk.

- Started out as a trip to pick up a t-shirt for OH since he hadn't brought many clothes along. 7 hours later we were sat in a bar having cocktails and bemoaning the fact we'd missed the Grand Palace in Bangkok again, for the 4th day running.

- When we finally made it to the Grand Palace into the Temple of the Emerald Buddha (jade, really) there was an almightly 'SPLAT' and OH turned to tell me how lucky it was that he'd just managed to avoid being shat on by a holy bird in the temple rafters, then noticing that I'd been covered all down one sleeve.

Holy shit indeed.