LAST DAY AT WORK!!
...but I'm still not excited.

Blogger's still playing up. Posts going AWOL. Hmmm.

So, it's my second to last day at work. I guess I should be feeling like it's the end of an era or something. It's the last time I'll work in this country for a long time - maybe ever. So, why don't I feel anything at all?

Hmmm. Blogger's playing silly buggers. Maybe I can kickstart it into action...

Apologies to all for lack of updates yesterday. I've been struck down with some dreaded lurgy (some might call it a heavy cold) that's reduced me to a coughing, quivering pile of (mostly) phlegm. Nice.

Jonathan has details of what happened at the quiz, and what happened afterwards, but not what happened after that...

We ran out of shower gel this morning. However, in the bathroom we have some hand wash with tea tree oil and mint. It makes your hands cold when you use it, in a kind of minty fresh kind of way. After this morning, I recommend caution before using it anywhere below your navel. Ay caramba.

OK, so my latest flat offer has been accepted. I'm trying not to get too excited as the last one fell through. Touching wood at every opportunity... if you know what I mean!

One of the things to do as mentioned on the blog is calming down. Face it Davie - it's not going to happen before Oz, now is it? Not if this weekend's activities are anything to go by...

Friday: Quiet drink in Barcode for Little Stuart's birthday. Most of the Vauxhall people were there, and it was mad. Some friends of friends were over from Oz, and so a hardcore posse ended up at Fiction. Great fun, lots of laughs. Stumbled out of there at 5.30am and crashed out at David P's.

Saturday: Up and home. David came over and we went a househunting. Thanks again Scally for ferrying me around - it was a great help! And nice to have something big throbbing between my legs. Matron. Offered on another place. Fingers crossed. Home to veg a bit. Ate a jelly sweet and lost half a filling :o( Round to Steve and Steve's for dinner for Little Stuart. Really nice time - good food, good company. Had arranged to meet David, Paul and Pete and Paul (Oz guys) in Crash at midnight. Did so. Lots of other people there too. I finally really enjoyed a night there! Yippee! Crash's music is the normal bugbear, apart from the guys with attitude. Well they at least got the music right for once. Kind of harder than the Vauxhall, and a bit funkier too. DTPM-esque. Great. We'd then arranged to go to Trade, and having phoned Nick to see where he was (he'd overslept!) we hit there at about 5.30am. Danced our little socks off until around 11am, when Nick and I decided to walk home. As you do.

Sunday: In around midday. Decided the only thing to do was listen to trashy old 80s CD singles. Corona, Undercover, Urban Cookie Collective, Dannii... you get the idea. Crashed out around 2pm and slept until 5pm. Shower, change and down to the Tavern. Caught half of the show, which was very, very good. A slightly peripheral crowd there last night, but suddenly all those people gelled into one big happy family. One even bigger happy family I guess. Just fantastic. Music a little different too - a few more different oldies and all the better for it. Swept out of there with the rest of the trash at midnight. Didn't think I was a twin tub washing machine this week. Apparently last week I did. Oops.

4½ working days.

Don't even ask me where I got hold of this link to the Golden Haired Goddess™, just go and gawp (primarily at the hair). The bio section contains the immortal bit of writing '... the role was part Fatal Attraction and part Mommie Dearest... Once again Fawcett gave the performance of a lifetime'. Think about it for a minute...

Ow. One of my teeth hurts. I think I need a filling. I'm actually one of those weirdos (note spelling Tony!) who can have fillings without injections. Yes I know. FREAK! For those of you who don't enjoyed being drilled quite so much, as it were, click here.

It's still really depressing looking for new flats. I've been spoiled by the niceness of the last place. Curses.

It's their website, and they'll cry if they want to. Sad. Very sad.

Overheard on the Chrysalis minibus this morning: "Well how would you like it if I sat in front of the telly and tweaked my nipples?"

I'm in a better mood today. Pissed-offness has turned into defiance. I will find a flat, and I'll find one this weekend too. Thanks to Scally for offering to buzz me round places tomorrow, and thanks again to everyone for their sympathy. It's ranged from the soft platitudes 'These things happen for a reason', 'It just wasn't meant to be', to the hugely optimistic 'Hope a house fell in your lap'. Better take those ruby slippers off then, just in case. Also as a couple of people have pointed out, and now I've poked my head meerkat-like out of my mire of self-pity... I am healthy, I'm happy (!) and I'm moving to Australia in 8 weeks. Things could be a lot worse. Thanks kids for my verbal slappings. Consider me having pulled myself together.

Right, that's it. I'm out of here for the day. I've had enough. Weekend plans have now changed. No trip to York. Staying down here and househunting. Thanks for all the kind words from everyone today - you know who you are... I'll keep you informed.

Fighting the mood. Failing. Fighting the mood. Trying at least. At each successive property search online, my mood sinks back to where it was. Can someone organise some sort of divine intervention please? Thanks. Or at least write to me and cheer me up...

Ahh, Thursday. Still in as crap a mood as yesterday. I know I need to lighten up, but frankly, I'm happier wallowing in self-pity for another day.

Well my day can't possibly get any worse. The vendors have just pulled out of the flat sale. Fantastic. Just what I needed to hear to make my day complete. Today sucks.

Get me out of this shithole someone please.

Oh dear. Mood's a-sinking. This work crap doesn't half interfere with important personal stuff, like blogging and email. Doh.

Quiz night last night, and my turn to write up the events. A full strength team for the first time ever - me, David, Jonathan and Darren. Following on from last week's eventful night Wendy themed the quiz all about fire and burning. Thus before the quiz had even started we guessed several songs that eventually became answers - it was more a case of slotting the songs in the right place! We knew lots of related stuff: identified 'Babylon's burning' by the Ruts in a nanosecond; knew who accompanied Tom Jones on 'Burning down the house' and could name all four original members of Bucks Fizz ('If you can't stand the heat...'). We had no problem with the three Earth, Wind and Fire tracks and knew such diverse answers as Sparks, Ash, the Ohio Players ('Fire) and the Trammps "... with 2 M's!!" ('Disco Inferno'). We didn't know a Primal Scream track called 'Burning Wheel', were our usual year out on the Guess the Year round and didn't know Mick Ronson wrote a particular song (that I can't now remember). All in all we dropped 4½ points to register 15½ - a full 1½ points behind the eventual winners. But they didn't win the cash. That's ours next week...

I get my coffee from the same place every morning - Coffee Republic in Notting Hill Gate. They've had a high turnover of staff until recently, and for the past few weeks have had the same team on early shifts. One lovely blonde girl has made me very happy (that's a first!), in that she now remembers my order. I walk in and say 'Good morning'. She replies with 'Hi, tall decaff latté?'. I say 'Yes please'. Other non-regulars look at me enviously. I like that. It somehow makes me feel like I belong! For another 8 days.

Minker la-la.

Giant was interesting. You'll probably have read about some people's nightmares on assorted blogs anyway, but I'll add in my whole ten pence worth. The evening started nicely with a quick pre- pre-Giant drinks drink at Stevie P's. Then onto Paul and David's for the official pre-Giant drinks. Lots of chatting and drinking and generally ramping up in preparation. We split into a car's worth and a taxi worth of people to make the short trip from Paddington to King's Cross, and it turned out to be a fortunate move. I went with American Thom, who very, very fortunately knew people in the queue. Right at the front. We blagged our way in!! Normally I hate people that do this, but having heard subsequent 1½ hour queue nightmare stories from those people who waited WITH tickets, I feel less guilty. Overly zealous searches for drugs on entry - everyone was treated like a dealer until proven otherwise. Things like chewing gum taken away - why? Once in we joined the coat check queue, until someone sneakily told us that you could push in round the back. We did that too. Whatever - I'm leaving the country.
Once in, I had a great time. There were 5 areas:

Heaven: Trashy dance. Podium in the middle. We spent no time here.
Crash: Surprisingly good music. Kind of slightly harder or funkier Vauxhall. Bore no relation to the music they play in Crash proper. For that we can be thankful. Spent bits of time dancing here, with Little Steve, Drew, Andrew and Stuart.
Trade: Excellent. Probably slightly lighter than normal, but great atmosphere. Spent most time dancing here with Nick, Kay and Tara, Mark, Dave (cor!), Danny, Jason, Rodger and Tony. Great fun.
Down to Barcode: Our meeting place, that worked very well. Less dancey, more social. Ran into heaps of mates.
Down to the Hoist: Faux-sleaze. Apparently there was a dark room. No investigations undertaken.

Other people have said it was too crowded. Sure, it was busy but the people added to the atmosphere and I don't remember being overly pissed off at the hoardes of lovely, sweaty, mostly bare-chested men. Funny that.

Leaving wasn't such a bed of roses. We decided to try and beat the queues by leaving at 5.35am as it was due to close at 6am. We failed. However it wasn't a complete failure as we were in the first batch that eventually got out after about 45 minutes. What a crush. If there had been any sort of emergency, a fire for example, we wouldn't have had a hope in hell. Scally commented on the difference between the smoothness of the whole Mardi Gras party in Sydney compared to Giant. I couldn't agree more. And that copes with 25,000 people versus a measly 5,000 or so at Bagley's. Still, all in all a fun night. Good music, good company, good times.

Back to Stevie P's to chill. Fantastic. Thanks Steve once again from your many grateful mates. Spent most of that time entwined with Dave and Tony. Talking and minkering. Fabulous. Left there at 3.30pm having not slept. Home and showered. Got Mark and Dave from down the road and hit the Vauxhall. Great night. More than a little minkered by the end of the night, but great fun. Nick joined us, as did Steve, Rob & Wayne, Karl et al. Lovely. Home and bed 12.30am.

Happy Easter!!

Ohbejesus.

Happy Easter to one and all.

It's update time. I last left you Wednesday afternoon and coz of Blogger being down that's the last thing. Wednesday night was dinner at Darryl's. Had a great time. Went via the landlord's place to get spare keys to replace the ones we threw out with the rubbish. Darryl then cooked a fab Thai Green Chicken Curry and we drank too much white wine and put the world to rights. Home at about 11pm ish, when I got a text from David P. Called him for a chat as I wanted to run the idea of me leaving earlier for Oz past him. Brett's coming to stay for 4 weeks and it would mean that I'd only be here for the first two. The phone call from my end (coz of almost one and a half bottles of wine) went something like this:
"Rant, rant, rave, rave, blah, blah, '... but are you sure you don't mind me gong while Brett's still over here', rant, rave, blah, blah, '... but I feel guilty about not being here when Brett's here', blah, rave, rant, blah, '... you'll have more time to spend on your own with him', blah, rant, rave, rant, blah, '... it's too good an opportunity for me not to', rave, rant, blah."
You can imagine. The reason for me going earlier will be explained presently. Fell into bed.

Thursday:
Work. If you can call it that. Called David Bassett in Oz, and said yes to his flat. Oh my god. This means I have a place to live in Sydney that a) sounds great, b) is conveniently located, c) is affordable, d) is being rented from someone I know and e) it's sorted! It means so much less hassle. Thanks David. For my 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom, 7th floor, balconied, views of the Opera House, swimming pool in the complex apartment. Can't wait. Thursday night I was as good as my word and went to the gym again. Various people had called trying to tempt me out. Post gym I met Steve's (Big and Little) and Stuart (Little) in Barcode. They'd been to the Yard, which apparently now looks like the inside of Chariots sauna after its refurbishment. Nice! David (Swish) and Ian were in Barcode too. Beers, then for some reason onto Escape. Ick. Too many pretty boys. Too many drunk girls. Too much hair product. On the boys. Big Steve lost his front tooth. Then we found it after 15 minutes of searching. Decided to go to Crash. Loads of people there, but I was being good so only stayed until 2am then home. Well done.

Good Friday:
Nick and I managed to be up reasonably early and hit the gym. Yes, again. Shopped on the way home then decided to go into town for non-food shopping. Too many people, so within an hour or so we were in Comptons. Jasons assorted, Darryl and Rieg were there too, and suddenly it was 7.30pm and were were minkered. How did that happen? Home to smoked haddock, crushed new potatoes with black olives and truffle oil, cabbage and spinach. I was feeling a bit Delia, OK?? Out to the Kazbar to meet Darryl at 9.30pm. Lots of too loud singing to trashy songs - the perfect limber up for the Brewers. David (Scally) joined us, and a few others we knew were there too (Roberts various). Of course, we couldn't stop there and despite Nick being sensible (and a bit jet lagged) and going home at 3am, the rest of us hit Substation South. Paul and Ian were there, as was Jonnie B. Minker la-la. Home at about 6am. Oops. Bed.

Saturday:
Up at about 11.15am. Internet shenanigans as I couldn't really function much beyond that. Into town for hair cut at 3.30pm and chat to Warren. Wandered round and finally had a panini and coffee. Couple of beers with Jason in Comptons again! No... !! Home and Nick and I got chinese takeaway, and stumbled upon a Sex and the City night on E4. Fantastic. Bed just before midnight as posted. Zzzzz.

Easter Sunday:
So far, not much. Slept until 10.15am. Coffee and Simpsons. Nick and I had brekky. OK - lesson for you all now. Do not buy fruit milk. Fruit milk is the work of the devil. It's so evil it's not even on the web yet. It's a mix of milk, mango and apple juices and it's attempting to take over the world. By itself it's not bad. Bit like those yoghurt drinks. It says on the pack though that it transforms your porridge into a 'delicious taste sensation'. Lies. It transforms your porridge into 'something you could re-plaster your walls with that just happens to smell of warm mangoes'. Avoid. For all our sakes. We've just been chatting since, watching MTV, drinking coffee and I've been mailing and blogging. Gym at 3pm then a bit of running around sorting stuff for people. Then pre-Giant drinks somewhere - Robert's? David and Paul's? Then Giant itself. Should be a laugh. Never been to one of these 5 venues under one roof things. Fab. More news later kiddies.

Saturday night, 11.40pm. In a shock report, Dave is heading for bed. No really. Alone. Full update tomorrow - Blogger problems and Easter have restricted postings. Nighty night.

I'm being good today. I've made all those calls you never get round to making. I'm feeling virtuous. All this after the gym last night and again tomorrow. Go Davie!

Following the Dutch decision to legalise euthanasia, my friend Carol in the office has come up with the most fantastic idea for a game show. People who want to die compete in a quiz round, the loser being put gently to sleep live on air. Her working title? "Is that your final answer?"

I can't shake an impending feeling of doom. Hopefully this portent is inaccurate. It may have something to do with last night's dream...

I was in Australia with my mate Brett. We were on farm somewhere (not Perth where he lives, or Sydney where I'll be) - some sort of sugar cane farm I think. I was wearing a denim jacket with no buttons, and Brett was making me make some fasteners out of paper clips (listen, it's a dream OK? Weird stuff is meant to happen.) Then we realised we were being stalked. We went outside and Brett gave me a gun. So, in amongst the sugar cane we were stalking this unknown assailant when I saw him. I pointed my gun and shot. My gun turned out to be a camera, and so I got a lovely picture of the attacker as the flash went off. I tried a couple more times and just got a couple more pictures. I then realised the attacker was approaching me and getting nearer and I could do nothing. I then realised for some reason what I could see was mirrored and that he was behind me. As I turned he was pointing a gun at me about to pull the trigger. I was completely helpless. I punched out in a vain attempt to disarm him... and that was when I awoke with a sore hand having punched the wall of my bedroom. Freaky.

I slept very badly after that and am tired now. I know I'm taking a lot of stuff on right now, so maybe it's working its way out through my dreams. I hope that's all it is. Though having done a bit of impromptu dream analysis maybe I'm not so sure. Guns mean 'violence, threat, aggression and danger ahead'. Shooting means 'destroying aspects of one's self, there is a deep wound within myself'. Great. Another site has these symbols as meaning that 'there is a major life change ahead'. Well they got that right.

I went to the gym - yippee! I had a lazy night otherwise - laundry, bought some flowers, vegged in front of Buffy. Perfect.

No pop quiz for me tonight. I'm ditching it in favour of a good, long and hard gym session.

No I am.

Really.

2 and a half hours of brainstorming this morning. How dull is that? We talked about:

Wine
CD releases
Slendertone
Boddingtons
Camelot
Online club listings.

Less than 12 days to go. It can't come soon enough.

I've been illin'. A day of nothingness. Chats to Big Steve, Tess, Stevie P and David P. Pokémon and Voyager - as much intellectual stimulation as I could muster. Finally bacon and mushrooms on toast. Feel better. Early night beckons...

Oh minkered is me.

Friday was fine - a few quiet beers with ex BA colleagues in Windsor. Curry (very nice) and the train back into town slightly worse for wear. As predicted, resistance to the Royal Vauxhall Tavern proved useless. I tipped up there at about 11.15pm as there was a special night on as it was Jason's (who runs the place) birthday. A few of the gang were there - Steve's Big and Little, Paul, Gary, Darryl and Rieg, David's Quiz and Scally. Of course we couldn't leave well alone, and after a couple of hours or so suddenly seemed to find ourselves - as if by magic - at Substation South. It was quite a lot of fun, and the minkered continued. I was in a strange mood though, and so by the time I decided to leave I'd sunk into a very low mood. Not sure why. A bit of uncertainty about everything I suppose, and all the flat buying/emigration stuff can seem daunting from time to time. I walked home, and in that 40 minutes or so sunk deeper into a mass of self-pity. Came home to a message from Tony that kind of threw me a bit, and I stupidly ended up taking some of my mood on him, which was unfair. Apologies matey - it was out of line. Bed.

Saturday morning, and no real mood improvement. Slept late and did bugger all before going to meet David P for coffee and shopping. David let me witter on for about an hour over the coffee before we actually ventured shopwards, and he did make me feel an awful lot better. Thanks matey. It's funny how certain people end up being incredibly important to you after only knowing them for a short space of time - and you, Uncle Chopmeister, are one of them. I bought a great new jacket, David only splashed out on a new watch and a t-shirt. Ended up for a quick beer at the Edge where, oddly enough, we passed a good 45 minutes talking about anal intercourse. As you do. Evening was much quieter. Up to Stevie P's for some grub and wine. Nice, relaxed and perfect. Watched Top 10 Electropop Pioneers on C4 which was fantastic for the musical memories alone. Then caught a documentary about an English woman trying to break into porn films in the USA. Scarily watchable and poignant. Bed at midnight. Yes, on a Saturday night. Not been out. Oh no. Marvellous.

Sunday up at about 9am. Hadn't slept particularly well mind. Steve dropped me off at the station and home I came. Pottered. Showered and shaved and into town for a bit of a look round and a sandwich. Big Steve called to say a few people were in Comptons. I joined them, bumping into Steve and Craig on the way. A few beers and then Vauxhall time. Absolutely rammed last night. Not sure if the sunshine had maybe made people think it would be good to go to stand outside, yet upon arrival the weather had turned cold and rainy again so more people than you'd think humanly possible were all packed sardine-like into the pub. Still, a great night as ever. The gang were pretty much all there and much minkering was had by all. Minker la-la. And talking of la, me and Chatty Paul may have gone on to LA3. I may have gone to chill at the Orange. But you'll never know for sure...

OK - now I know that I've been banging on about this to anyone who will listen, but... the currently ubiquitous "M&S Presents The Girl Next Door - Salsoul Nugget (If u wanna)" will forever be known to me and my mates as the 'Bag of Revels' song. What does she sing? It's probably something along the lines of "If you won't unlock the rebel we'll debate all through the night". However, when minkered, it sounds more like she's singing "If you want a bag of Revels or a bagel through the night". Trust me. Sing that once, and you'll never be able to hear it any other way again. I thank you. (P.S. Can you believe there isn't a packshot of a bag of Revels on the Net? Scandalous. Someone scan one in quick!!)

Resistance is futile. (Thanks to David for all his hard work on this - kept us amused for weeks mate!)

Fancy a cheap trip out of London? Or in fact anywhere on the GNER network? They've got a special offer of £5 single/£10 return for travel anywhere on their network between 23 April and 3 May - and yes, this includes Scotland. You'll need to book by 26 April mind you. Go here and follow the link to £5 single. Fantastic!! Let's get out of here. I'm going to see my Daddy. No, my real Daddy.

Am slightly bleary/beery eyed this morning after last night's beers. Nothing major, just a little woolly round the edges. Be gentle with me.

OK, I can't remember where the hell I got this from. This probably means I'm going to put this up without a thanks and get hate mail from someone. Apologies. It was the top left one that particularly made me grin. And think all Egyptian :o)

Take a peak at this. Not done for commercial reasons, just a home page that's slightly mad. Have a good look round - the toons are bizarre. Way cool.

Impromptu beers with Jonce (briefly) and David (for the rest of the evening). Decided once home to stay home. Early bed is a definite. Nighty night!

The first single that I ever bought? Rather appropriately it was 'Davy's on the road again', by Manfred Mann's Earth Band. Not thought about that in a while, but I guess what goes around, comes around. Weird.

Spit or swallow? You may want to know about this. Girls. And guys. Or not. I don't know... all this messing around with nature? Leaves a nasty taste in my mouth...

Don't you hate it when people are late for things and throw out your night? Someone was due round at 8pm to pick something up, and I'd specifically said I was going to the gym AFTER that. They roll up at 8.35pm oblivous. At that point it's too late to go to the gym. Still, it meant I cleaned the house from top to bottom (I tend to clean when in a bad mood). Tonight I will exercise if it's the last thing I ever do.

There's going to be no-one left in this country at this rate. Excerpts from two e-mails received yesterday:

Garry: "Secondly, I hear you're moving to Oz. Guess what??? ME TOO!!!"
Simon: "I have been offered a job in Sydney and am wondering whether to pursue it."

Simon - don't think about it twice.

See you all down under boys and girls...

Actually, David makes everything below seem much clearer...

Help. I'm scared. Six degrees of separation? Make that about one and a half. Reading down here, you'll see mentions of the following people...

David S (SwishCottage) - my Retro Bar quiz team mate, Tavern minkering buddy and daily email and blog correspondant.
Tony - the lovely guy I met in Oz and whom I'm in daily email contact with.
David Cushing (Scally) - the friend of Tony's whom I met in Oz in a bar whilst there on holiday with
David P - my close friend, holiday trip partner, recently regular minkering partner and daily text message exchanger.
and me, Davie B (Minkered..., Uncle Hedgehog).

Hmmm, how best to word this? The night I met Tony I was in the Oxford in Sydney with David P, and he was there with David C. We then kept meeting up with David C all over Sydney, and I continued to see Tony before I left. David P and David S only met really properly for the first time this Saturday at Hope. I met up again with David Scally at the Tavern on Sunday as previously mentioned below. He'd come to wish me happy birthday bless him.
Today David Scally is reading the blog of another friend of his Davo, and sees the link to David S's blog. Apparently Dave-o had previously mentioned David S to David Scally. Meg, who met David S earlier in the year, fits in there somewhere too. Think her and Dave-o are housemates and her and David Scally are work colleagues.
So, David Scally follows the link, reads and reads and sees the link to my site. On following that, David Scally realises that it's me, puts eight and fourteen together and gets four hundred and ninety-three, fires off a note to David S, who forwards it to me and here we are. Confused? I'll be asking questions tomorrow. I had no idea David Scally had a blog. He had no idea I had. The scariest thing is that 71.4285% of the people mentioned in this particular post are called David.
Lumme. Did I get this right by the way everyone??

This is quite amusing. Particularly the Ministries, BASH, Homosexual Agenda. Thanks to the lovely Tony for this link and cheering me up :o)

Amanda at work has just asked me what I look for in another man.
My reply?

My penis.

OK guys - the 'I've never' baton has landed in my sweaty palm. David started this off...

I have been to B+Q, Halfords, Homebase and IKEA, but not Iceland (country or frozen food store). I've been driving half my life. Spent nice times in Scotland but never been to Ireland. Done both Queensway (also for skating Jonce!) and Barons Court. Seen at least one Derek Jarman film I can think of, but not broken a bone (of mine or anyone elses). The tattoo is planned, the piercing below the neck had to come out (you decide where it was!). I used to skateboard in competitions as a teenager, and make my own boards. I've not microscootered mind. My Dawson has never Creeked, I've Buffied sometimes and Angel-ed less. I Voyager regularly but never got into DS9. Read a couple of John Grishams, but didn't love them like I devoured all the Harry Potters (but not the Comic Relief ones).

I've never...

bungee jumped. Slept with a black man. Liked R 'n' B. Been to Canada. Sung Karaoke. Slept with an Asian. Really enjoyed Crash. Been sadder about leaving this country.

Yesterday passed fairly uneventfully after the events of the weekend. Thank god! Into work, didn't do much. Tried to fill in my mortgage application form. Will try and finish that today. The network was down at work, so I didn't have email access or blogging access until way too late in the day. Struggled home with my home PC via Eric's in Islington and had a not too healthy meal in front of Buffy night. Then I played on the PC a while before chatting to Tony for almost an hour before going to bed at 1am. Slept very badly and so am bit tired today. Grrr. More later kids.

BIRTHDAY MINKERING WEEKEND UPDATE

Friday as previously described - somewhere below. Italian food with Nick, beers in Barcode and Comptons (where we bumped briefly into David) and then home. Remarkably in bed at a reasonable time. How did that happen??

Saturday started much more sedately. Nick had to nip off for one of his computing seminar things, so I had a very leisurely start to the day. Up about 9.30am, coffee, Saturday morning telly... first time in ages. Got organised and decided to nip to Tesco's to get some essentials. Of course, I forgot that I hadn't replaced the security key for the front door to the block, so ended up locking myself out again. Great. Chatted to a couple of people on the phone. Steve (Nick's ex) arrived and we chatted a while before Nick got back. Coffee, more chats and then finally into town - ostensibly to meet David P for a bit of shopping. Meantime though, Big Steve had called wanting to meet for a quick beer, so that was what we did. David P joined us. Oh dear. Some 3 and a half hours later we gave up on the shopping idea as we were fairly minkered. Stumbled home, where I managed to eat something (I think!), shower, shave and get myself looking beautiful before David and Chatty Paul arrived and we went down to Hope. Had the most fantastic time!! All the gang were there - well not initially, but over time most of our entire group from the Vauxhall joined us. The Karl Crew, the Big Steve Crew, the Blog Crew and assorted other people we adopted. Got lots of birthday attention, and it meant that eventually I think we'd met everyone in there. It's like a mini-Tavern, and most enjoyable for it. Highlight of the evening for me? My trip to Ibiza. Towards the latter part of the evening, much minkering down the line, I was - to say the least - a little worse for wear. You can imagine. No, really. Those who saw me have no need to imagine. At one point, very wobbly, Antony (the guy Steve and Audrey brought into our fold) basically wrapped himself around me (well he is 6'2" and built like a brick cliché) and looked after me. He decided to take me on a little trip. Antony started telling me we were going on holiday, to Ibiza. Getting on the plane, taking off, landing, arriving at the hotel. Then we were by the pool, having cocktails, feeling the warm sun as we lounged around. Thing is, I was there. I mean really. It felt like I was living the experience first hand, not by proxy. Oh dear. Antony - thanks. One of the best holidays I've had in a while! Left Hope and back to ours briefly before everyone left and I fell into bed at 7am.

Sunday began some 3 and a bit hours later, as I woke with the need for coffee. Nick and I sat around and talked to a couple of people before I forced us to have bacon sandwiches, not really knowing when we'd next realistically eat. Baby Tom came round about 1.30pm and we hit Manto's on time at 2pm. A beautiful day for my birthday, but to be honest we didn't see much of it, as we were in a basement bar in Soho. It's was a joint birthday do with my bestest friend Stevie P, who finally arrived about 2.45pm. Slowly lots of other people began to arrive, and I began my vodka-binge-athon. It was a most fantastic afternoon. God knows how many people we crammed into the basement bar of Manto's, but I'm sure it was more than it was meant to hold. Similar to the amount of vodka I polished off... more than I was designed to hold. Thanks to everyone who made the effort to come and help me reach the ripe old age of 36, and Steve 34. Finally it was time to move on - Steve took his crowd to Salvation, whereas I took my lot down to the Vauxhall Tavern. Well I couldn't really go anywhere else. To be honest it's a bit blurred, but I do remember having the most fantastic time. Minkered? Oh I think so. Talked to David Cushing (Tony's mate I met in Oz) and various assorted other minkerers, some of whom had been at Manto's, some who hadn't. About 10.30pm we decided to nip home and change and sort ourselves out before heading down to DTPM to carry on minkering. I know I had a great time at DTPM too, but I can't really remember many details. I know Ahmed the Egyptian was there, which was good for a bit of flirting, and it gives me chance to blog the better lines I thought of after Thursday night. Well he turned into American porn star voice over artiste on the Friday morning, and as he wanted to be dominated a bit (Him? He was about twice my size!!) it was less a case of Who's your Daddy? as Who's your Mummy! :o) Also I could mention the tour of his Sphinx, but that may not be to many people's liking, so I won't. He he he. Finally me, Nick, David P and Chatty Paul stumbled out of DTPM at about 5.30am on

Monday as we walked in a merry minkered way to Stevie P's. The Misty Moor crowd from Manchester were there, as were minkerers varicose. And there we stayed, minkering away as the sun rose on the most fantastic day. David P left after a little while, but the party just continued. I eventually fell foul to too much minkering at about midday, and fell into a little sleep until about 2.30pm. Steve is such a fantasic host - thanks matey. I then made my final excuses and came home. Slept from 4pm until 7pm, when I decided I should get up. Nick was back so we had food and watched Voyager and then I finally went to bed again at 10.30pm. What a fantastic birthday weekend. Thanks to everyone for making it such a special weekend. You all know who you are. And I think the world of you all.

Am way overdue to update this old blog of mine. Reasons are three-fold:

1) My home PC was meant to be being fixed at work. It's not been. I've brought it home in its usable but not 100% state for the time being as the guy fixing it is now in NYC for a week. Great.
2) I've been minkered (sometimes minorly, sometimes (er, mostly) majorly) since Saturday afternoon.
3) The network at work was down for most of the day.

Full update now and Wednesday am.

Stayed home for the locks to be changed and to dispatch the Egyptian link back to whence he came. Into work. Did solicitory/mortgagey things. Went to see the flat again but took Nick this time. He likes it. Well, you can't fail to!! Walked back from there and that's about it. More minkering as it happens guys and gals.

Friday night's alright to party. Am sat in Charing Cross EasyEverything with Nick, prior to having some Italian food and a quick drink at Barcode. Due to Tube strikes, my home PC being fixed, being a busy boy and Blogger being down, I've not blogged since Wednesday. A lot has happened!!

Wed pm: Home, shower and shave and over to David P's for dinner and helping him with his Oz emigration application. Had nice food (Cajun chicken and salad, fruity, berry-y, Triple Sec-y dessert and lots of red wine. Nick phoned to tell me I'd left my keys at home. Doh. Didn't matter in the end, as I crashed out over at David's. We had a great time, put the world to rights, chatted to Brett and it was generally lovely.

Thu am: Nick and I have SMS conversation. It goes something like this:

Nick: What do you want me to do with your keys.
Dave: Leave in the cupboard where we put the bins out.
Nick: OK
.
Nick: Have sellotaped them to the binbag.
Dave: Fine, see you later.

Tube strike day. Walked with David P down into the city and I carried on over Blackfriars Bridge and home. Traffic chaos. Decided I wouldn't be going into work. Got to the flat. Opened the bin cupboard. No keys. In fact, no bin. Bin men had been in the time Nick had left for work and me arriving. On a Thursday. The bin men come on Monday's. Oh how I laughed. Actually I did. it just seemed so fantastic!! Anyway, phoned the letting agents and landlord and tried to get locks changed. Not until Friday. So, what's a boy to do?

This boy went flat-hunting.

Down to Brixton where I wandered into the first agency Carol had recommended and the guy offered to take me to the two things they had on the books that were suitable. One was OK, near Camberwell. As we were leaving, I said it's a shame I couldn't afford something more unusual. The guy asked me if I'd consider another area. Like where? Like Peckham. I said why not. We swung back to the office, picked up some more keys, and within about 10 minutes I was stood in the most incredible loft style, galleried apartment - all wooden floors and exposed brickwork. Double height windows and raised sleeping areas. In a converted school. Lovely. Lovely, lovely, lovely. I made an offer. It was accepted.

Ohmigod. It's all happening.

Thu pm: Went to Drew's for coffee and natter. Went into town to meet Big Steve to sort out the Manto drink thing. Steve and Audrey, Stuart and Andrew were slaughtered in Balan's. With a very nice looking Egyptian guy named Ahmed that they'd adopted. I joined them for coffee, then Steve and I sorted Manto's. Over to Compton's. Drew came. Nick came. More people arrived. Lots of drinking, playful flirting and such. To Barcode. Nick and I finally went home with Ahmed. Er...

Ahh, bliss.

OK, my blog's not publishing. This is to make it think there's something new to post. Bear with me. Here's the word of the day from December 29th last year to keep you amused. For no real reason than scumble is a lovely word.

scumble \SKUM-bul\ (verb)
1 a : to make (as colour or a painting) less brilliant by covering
with a thin coat of opaque or semiopaque color b : to apply (a colour)
in this manner
*2 : to soften the lines or colours of (a drawing) by rubbing lightly

Example sentence:
Joan squinted critically at her self-portrait, then scumbled the
outlines of her face with her finger, and she found the vague dreamy
effect of the smeared edges was much more to her liking.

Did you know?
The history of "scumble" is blurry, but the word is thought to
be related to the verb "scum," an obsolete form of "skim" (meaning
"to pass lightly over"). Scumbling, as first perfected by artists
such as Titian, involves passing dry, opaque coats of oil paint over
a tinted background to create subtle tones and shadows. But although
the painting technique dates to the 16th century, use of the word
"scumble" is only known to have begun in the late 18th century. The
more generalized "smudge" or "smear" sense appeared even later,
in the mid-1800s.

*Indicates the sense illustrated in the example sentence.

I think my vision is scumbled after last night's beer. For more words of the day, go here.

It's now Wednesday lunchtime and I'm only at Monday's activities. Think I'll make this short and sweet and get it up to date - I've got house viewings to sort out!
Monday: Work was OK. Made it in feeling remarkably chipper considering. Got through the day and made it home at a reasonable time. Nick and I had agreed to have a slobby night in - Indian takeaway, lager, Voyager on the box. And that was what happened. In the words of Soft Cell - Sag Aloo, Wave Goodbye.
Tuesday:Not much to report. Got through the day and then met ex-Capital colleagues for beers. Gill, Guy and Parv. Nice to see them. Everyone made their respective moves by about 9pm, so it was the perfect time for me to join David and Jonathan for the Retro Bar pop quiz. WE WON!

Of course I should now tell you all about it. Thing is though, David's already done it. And very well too. Thanks mate. I shall dedicate this new paragraph to you.

Well I left you at the end of the evening on Saturday. Or was it?

Headed home, showered and changed and headed up to David P's. Me, him Chatty Paul and Little Andrew then went to Up in Whitechapel. It was kind of OK. Not sure what to make of it really. Long coat check queue featuring pushing in wankers and flicky haired rude girls; school disco feel (room sectioned off by black drapes); Keith Haring cutouts hanging from the ceilings (and hitting people's heads - yes even me); DTPM funky music in main room OK; slower, funkier even music in small room at 'ear-drum perforation' level; not that many people with their shirts off; slightly too light and way too much UV giving snow blindness off people's white tops; full of people I didn't know. We almost left and went to Crash, but finally decided to stay and make the most of it. Once that decision was made it was quite fun, and the last couple of hours went quite quickly and enjoyably... and then it was time for Trade. Which was OK. Nick and crowd there - nice to meet up with them. Not the best night I've ever had there though. Music became really shit and disjointed and so by 9.30am Sunday me and David toddled off back to his to chill. Tea. Chats about Australia and Brett. Vodka and orange. Twice. Big ones. Left at midday to go home, shower and change and meet up with Dad. Ugh. Not him, me. Had coffee and then headed off to the Imperial War Museum. Had more coffee there and a good look round - though I'm not sure how much of it went into my head to be honest. Back to the hotel for a sandwich and then I'd had enough. Home.
Showered and changed and hit the Vauxhall. Don't really know why I did it. It was fab though. As ever. A slightly different crowd as various people away, but fun. Nick, Tara and Steve. Mike and Nick. David P and Chatty Paul arrived later. Fun, fun, fun. Swept out with the (rest of the) trash at midnight. Home, coffee with Nick. Internet play. Bed 2.30am.

Right, 5.30pm Tuesday, and I'm just about to start and blog what's been going on since Friday night - how does that work? (Not very well in terms of continuity in my book). Here we go.

Friday: Ran out of here and headed into town to meet my Daddy. No, I mean my actual Daddy. Down from Yorkshire for the weekend. Even though it was raining, we got some spectacular views from the London Eye. Thence back to Dad's hotel for large vodkas before having dinner. I can recommend the lamb at the Marriot County Hall Hotel should you ever get there. After a couple more large voddies I left Dad to it and headed home, where I showered, changed and launched myself anew at the Two Brewers. Karl had texted me to say all the gang would be there, and he wasn't wrong. Commenced minkering, to the point of being persuaded by Wayne and Karl to hit Sub South. Familiar ring (as it were)? Seem to remember doing that some two weeks ago... More minkering until we finally left to go and chill at Michael's at 4.30am. Oh dear. Coffee and chats and eventually the bus home at 6am. In bed for 7am. Slept until 11am.
Saturday (post 11am): Into town to meet Dad at the hotel. He'd busied himself at the Aquarium and was happy. We wandered into Covent Garden and had a quick snack before heading to the Prince of Wales Theatre at 3pm for the Witches of Eastwick. Have to say, it was absolutely fantastic! Much, much better than I could have hoped. Ian McShane was understudied for the afternoon, but it didn't really matter. Go and see it if you get chance. Fun, witty - a good spectacle. And that's from a gay man that can take or leave musicals.

Yes, there are a few of us around.

D'apres, I took Dad back to the hotel and then met Pilar at Waterloo. We took a leisurely stroll back to County Hall, had a drink with Dad and then we headed off to Porter's for dinner. I took the 'most-traditional-English-food-I-could-find' route, knowing Dad's aversion to all things culinary that are actually interesting. The meal wasn't bad. Bumped into Craig and Peter (Karl's lodgers from last night at the Brewers) who were sat two tables away. Fortunately no flouncing over and air-kissing (not that they're like that actually), so Dad went away convinced in his own mind that Pilar and I will be married. We went back to the hotel, dropped Dad off over another drink, and I escorted Pilar back to Waterloo. A most enjoyable evening.

D'oh - run out of time. More tomorrow. Drinks to be drunk. Me to be drunk most probably too.

OK, OK!! I'm late, I'm late, for a very important blog. Soon. Very soon. Full weekend update and latest musings - some of which you'll hopefully find a-musing.

Come and have a go, if you think you're hard enough. Oh, you are coming and having a go. In droves. Thanks guys. Firstly David (aka Simdy, Sylvie, Sinead, ET, Dubs) disses my height in a roundabout way here. I would just like to state, for the record, that I am very proud of all my 66 inches. Secondly I get quite excited as Michael in NYC comments on how my 'completely compelling descriptions' of my morning commutes have helped him on a 'journey of personal and spiritual growth'. Until the last line of the entry. Git. And he manages to steal my 'last-line delivery' style in the process. Thanks mate. I hope you can sleep at night.

Oh I just shouldn't. How many Monday mornings and/or chats to Stevie P start with that opening line? Way too many. More later. Suffices to say that minkering opportunities were exploited to the full over the weekend. Ay caramba. Feeling remarkably chipper at the moment. Fantastic.

Bored. As a very bored thing on a very bored day. I'm too hot (office temperature: currently set at 'Tropical House - Kew Gardens') and not bothered. I've also realised that recently my obtuse links (for which I attained a small level of notoriety) have been a bit lacking. Apologies. I'll try and get back on my perch.

In other news, Amanda here at work said the other day that 'minker' was an odd word and always made her think of the words 'tinker' and 'sphincter'.

Funny how all three are often used in the same sentence.

Friday morning. Rain. Lots of it. At least it's not cold. Rain when it's warm is bearable. I made it out of the house somewhat bleary eyed around 8.25am. Headed down to Kennington tube. Oh London Underground. My heart's desire, my one true love.
.
.
My arse.

Two ticket machines, two ticket windows, 25 moist patrons. Not too bad. Until you realised that a) neither of the tickets machines were actually working, b) only one window was manned (or womanned actually) and c) your travelcard has expired. The quick ticket machine helpfully said 'Closed'. The new all-singing all-dancing touch-screen ticket machine was flashing up 'Wait by the machine. Your ticket purchase has been cancelled' like some sort of Buddhist mantra. The ticket woman then left everyone queueing to come out into the foyer to check if the machines were working. 'They're not working' she offered helpfully. In the dulcet tones of a hormonal rhinoceros. What is it with British people and Customer Service? It's never going to happen. Anyway, the rest of the journey was uneventful (no real problems, Dave managing to go the right way, etc). Today's arrival time at Notting Hill? 9.03am. Bugger. (Sorry Tony - I've stolen that particular writing style peccadillo from you!)

New para for David and Ian.

Queued for coffee in Coffee Republic. Decided Starbucks would be quicker. Queued for coffee in Starbucks. Left without coffee as it was fast approaching 9.15am minibus time. Met Amanda, Carol and Richard at the bus stop. Waited. Waited. Waited. Someone took a call on their mobile. 'There's no minibus today'. Joy. A 20 minute walk ahead of us in the rain. We opted for a cab. Ever tried to get a cab in Notting Hill? Ever tried to get a cab in Notting Hill when it's raining? So we walked. In the rain. Via Starbucks. Hmmm... coffee.

Into work and wrote long e-missive to my antipodean buddie. After a bacon buttie and the aforementioned coffee. Have loaned Daft Punk to Amanda. I feel naked. Right. Off to see if David's still playing i-sketch.

Comptons by 7pm. Very enjoyable beers with David and Ian. Had texted Jason to come join us there, and he did so. Had a couple more beers by which time we'd all put the world to rights, worked out how many degrees of separation there were between some of our friends and acquaintances and much more. Jason and I then headed off for a japanese restaurant in Soho - Taro, Brewer Street - which was really good. Jason lived in Japan for 6 years, so I left the ordering to him. Nice starters - tofu, little-bits-of-dumplingy-loveliness, butterfly prawny things and then rice, miso soup and a bit slabful of sushi. And beer. Best of all was having a really good talk to Jason. About life, the universe etc. Lovely man. Thanks Jase. It's not often you meet people with manners enough to text you thanking you for a lovely evening when on the way home.

New paragraph. This for David and Ian's benefit. They slagged me off in Compton's for having huge long chunks of text on my blog. Said it put you off reading it. I said it was my 'style'. Hmmm. Anyone got anything to add?

Decided to venture off to somewhere new to carry on drinking. Minkering. And a-tinkering. The A Bar in Gt Suffolk Street. It was fun in its own little way. Nice enough men. Nice atmosphere. Left there at 1am. And David, no jacket stories.

I'm back! Did ya miss me? Apologies for overdue blogging. Just writing an email akin to War and Peace to the Australian link. Goodbye.

Actually I'll post up bits and pieces over the next hour or so. Keep checking back! Highlights may include:
Last night's minkering
Last night's dinner with Jason
Last night's post-dinner entertainment :oÞ
Today's travel adventure

And more besides. No really. I'll make it exciting.

No real work done. After a mammoth emailing session all afternoon, I've arranged to meet David and Ian for beers at Compton's before I have to go and meet Jason for dinner. That's cheered me up. Spare a thought for Jonathan though. We'll have a beer for you Jonce.

Didn't update y'all about last night. Nothing major mind, just haven't mentioned it! Home where Nick and I tried to talk ourselves out of going to the gym, but in a feat of mind over matter (or something) we dragged our lazy carcasses down there and worked out. For some reason couldn't do the same cardio as yesterday, but I guess I should be easing myself back into it as it's over a month since I've been going regularly. Home to a very odd meal - one of those 'what have we in the cupboards/fridge?' affairs. Edible. Low fat. Not bad.
To then celebrate my resignation we hit Clapham - one drink in the Kazbar then down to the Brewers. It was OK. Michael was there so we hung with him and drank a bit. We were finally forced to catch the tube by the appearance of the drag act. How many times can you realistically see Pam Ann? Home, fixed the PC (which had been playing up earlier) and then phoned Tony. He wasn't in the best of humours but it was still nice to chat to him. Hope you're feeling better now matey. Bed and sleep.
It's now gone 2.30pm Thursday afternoon and I'm feeling oddly deflated. Maybe I should do some work.
.
.
.
Nah.

My love affair with London's public transport system continues. Though this time the delays were mostly of my own making. Yesterday I managed to get into work on (my decided new start) time of 8.45am, despite London Underground's desperate efforts to nix me - slowing the train down, stopping in tunnels etc. Today I set off from the flat at 8.09am, which - given my commute time is 35 minutes - is pushing it to get the 8.45am minibus. (Incidentally, when I say starting at 8.45am I mean getting the shuttle minibus, which takes us radio station workers from Notting Hill to glamorous Bramley Road, at 8.45am - getting me here 5 mins later. The walk would take just over 15 minutes, so if you miss a bus by a minute, you might as well hang around for 15 minutes as you gain nothing by walking. Except for sore feet, perhaps). Recently, due to the closure of the Northern Line entrance at Elephant and Castle, I've walked to Kennington and connected up to the Central Line from there. Confusingly, I used to get the Bakerloo line from Elephant and change at Oxford Circus. Now I get the Northen Line and change at Tottenham Court Road. (Is anyone still remotely interested?) This is all well and good, except that before when changing platforms I used to come down the stairs and hang a right for Westbound services. Now I hang a left. Except for today that is. With my head in the 'soon-to-be-living-in-Australia' clouds I skipped down the steps and headed starboardwards. Doh. I then calmly waited for the next busy train to go through, priding myself on my restraint and thinking 'Well if i get the 9am bus it's OK'. Deeply mesmerised by Daft Punk at quite a high volume, I was oblivious to all announcements and my eyes must have glazed over in antipodean dreams as it took me two stops until I realised we were going the wrong way. Well I was. So I alighted at Chancery Lane and rued my mistake. Nothing to be done except head back westwards and swallow my pride. Best of all? The additional journey time meant I arrived at Notting Hill the usual 1 minute late for the 9am bus, meaning I had my 15 minutes of dead time to fill. Joy to the world. Blond moments? I've had a few. But I'm honestly not normally this dizzy. Am I? (I dare you...)

Yay. So, think I'm mad, or are you envious? It's the most liberating feeling, along with swimming naked and having your head shaved. Well, they work for me anyway. Thinking of telling your boss to stick his/her job where the sun don't shine? Get some tips from here.

As per today's title bar, I feel so much better after resigning. I feel so 'clean', for want of a better word. Last day 27 April. And counting. Think I'll spend the rest of the day walking round with a spring in my step and my hat at a jaunty angle.

Indeedy. Can those of you with access to this at Chrysalis please keep it fairly quiet for the time being please. I thank you.

I'VE RESIGNED!!!

To all of you people reading this in places other than the UK, you lucky gits. It's freezing here. Trying its best to snow in London. In March. One week before officially it's Summertime. Bodes well, doesn't it?

I live in hell. Woke at 7.10am, and for once dragged myself out of bed straight away and was out of the house before 8am. For my 35 minute journey into work. That took well over an hour. Great. This after yesterday's commute took longer than that. Yesterday I didn't know Tottenham Court Road station was closed due to flooding so was slightly perplexed as the tube flew through the station. That led me to try and connect to Hammersmith and City line at Euston Square short overground walk from Euston. All well and good, until I then had to wait 20 minutes for a tube towards Hammersmith and was late. Today I was ready for the Tottenham Court Road closure and got off at Piccadilly Circus, planning to nip on the Piccadilly Line to Holborn and across to Notting Hill. It then took 10 minutes, 10 whole minutes, to change platforms due to the number of people obviously trying to do the same thing. This then got me to my stop at 8.44am, just in time to miss the 8.45am minibus that drops us here at work. Bugger. Still it gave me time to get a coffee before the 9am one. I hate commuting. I'm through with this country :o)

Congratulations to Michael for wholeheartedly throwing himself into blogging. It seems like we've all come a long way since putting first fingers to keyboard, first post to publish, back in early February. P.S. Michael - tell Alan to write me already!

Monday evening. Nick and I didn't go to the gym. We chatted, watched the Simpsons and Voyager and stuffed our faces with pizza and salad. Much more therapeutic. Nice long chat to David P, bless him. Lovely text message from Karl. Friends can make all the difference.

On Saturday afternoon I bought the Daft Punk CD, having one of those 'I'm a witch' moments and thinking that it would turn out to be one of my favourite albums for a while. I put it on the Discman on the train back from York yesterday, and have so far probably listened to it through about 9 times. In less than 24 hours. Interesting. Maybe I am a witch. All the more bizarre as I didn't really have any great passion for One More Time at the time (though now it seems fab). 14 tracks. Probably less than half with (intelligble) lyrics. Synthesized, vocodered and over-produced to within an inch of its life, I can't remember having such aural pleasure in a long while (well not since someone misunderstood my reference to aural pleasure at the Vauxhall one evening!). Sure some of the sounds are so multi-layered and distorted that your ears seem to not only be bleeding but that they grabbed the razor blade themselves. This is perfect for me right now. For someone that listens to music in a number of different ways, the 24 track (minimum) production of each song is perfect for the 'lose yourself in the sounds/layers and don't think of what's going on in the rest of your life' mood I'm currently in. White noise with tunes. Sometimes. This is fun, kitsch, and by turns very now, very 80s and more besides. It samples Barry Manilow. Whole sections of it could have been the music bed from those awfuls bits in the middle of 'Kids from Fame' when they donned their leg warmers and did an impromtu breakdancing set in between lessons. It sometimes sounds like the Buggles have been dusted down and brought out of retirement for the 00s. It's music for drugs. It's music for after drugs. I'd be very surprised if it were recorded and mixed without drugs. Tunes range from sublime and lush to funky and mad. Plus, a couple of the tracks have lyrics that are so apt and poignant it's as if they're helping me personally through the confused mass of thoughts and feelings that passes for my brain right now. Highlights? Too many. Q mag always does that clever 'Best bit' thing in reviews which always seems to start '40 seconds into track 2 when the whole string arrangement seems to degenerate into a cat's cradle of string plucking that succeeds in its minimalism' kind of thing. Yeah, whatever. The apparent death knell of the bell tolling coming straight after the up-ness of One More Time works very well. Track 3 - Digital Love is the Buggles. Track 4 seems to have the percussion played on pots and pans. Crescendolls (well English isn't their first language) wouldn't be out of place at the Vauxhall. It's Bits and Pieces by Artemisia meets Blue Monday by New Order with a bit of Malcolm McLaren thrown in for good measure. And so on. Until the last track 'Too Long'. It lasts for 10 minutes exactly. You've got to admire their nerve. Particularly as the song itself is repetitive and builds and breaks down and builds and so on, inciting you to wonder at its naming. An album that makes you happy, sad, grin, wryly appreciative and feel just downright fantastic. Well done.

I'm glad I bought it. I am a witch. If you have it, lemme know what you think. If you don't have it I suggest you go and buy it immediately. Maybe from here.

Lordy.
You turn your back for two minutes and suddenly you haven't blogged since last Wednesday.
Dee left. That was sad. Very sad. A lovelier person you couldn't wish to meet. Someone I want to continue to see and develop our friendship. She sent me the loveliest email on Wednesday thanking me for being a friend, giving her inspiration and telling me I'm better than the people here. It's not really cool to burst into tears in the office, and I just about managed to hold it together. Dee, I hope it all works for you. You deserve big things. Go get 'em girl.
The rest of the week was uneventful. I was off sick from work (hence the no blogging). I did drag myself down to the Soft Cell gig on Friday night though. It was worth it. You can read full reviews from David and Jonathan.
Up to York to see my Dad for the weekend. Had a nice quiet time. Caught up with Richie and Martyn, which is always lovely. Bless 'em. Laughter is so therapeutic, and we did a hell of a lot of that.
Vauxhall. I had to. The voices in my head made me. Fab again. What more can I say?

Not much else to report since. Yeah right. Apart from the Tony dramas, which I'm not going to go into detail about (probably very much to Tony's relief (don't worry matey - I'll respect your privacy)). I've no real idea how that will pan out. I was kind of OK on Monday, beside myself on Tuesday and feel OK today. My emotions have been going up and down like this. It'll sort it self out. Meantime I've got lots to be going on with. Boy, have I!

Well as Henry Kelly used to say - 'Let's play catch up!'

Friday night: Home from work, and literally had time to fall in to the shower before heading out again to Steve and Steve's for dinner. It was great to see them again - we were joined by Paul (back from his travels round Florida) and Drew and Mario (first time I'd seen them since they drove the lorry down to Spain with the tiger tamer). Nice food - melon; steak au poivre with parsnip and turnip mash; and a dessert. Of some sort. Think I'd probably had too much wine by then! Not enough to stop me leaving there and getting a cab to Clapham where I joined minkers various at the Two Brewers. David, Darryl, Rieg, Karl, Rob and Wayne were all there - well in body at any rate. Soon we were even further on our way, and Rieg and I decided it would be a good idea to hit Sub South (as did Rob and Wayne). Ay caramba. Richard (the guy from just before Oz) was there, and it wasn't long before I persuaded him to 'come on home'.
Saturday/Sunday: Had a great time with Richard, and he finally left around 12.30pm. I was fairly wasted and couldn't really do much other than finally drag myself into the shower and head into Soho to meet up with Stevie P at around 4pm. We braved Costa Coffee on Compton Street and forced down a coffee and panini and suddenly things seemed alright with the world. Up to Islington to try and find something to wear to Fist (!). No real luck, so back to see what Steve had in his dressing-up box. Managed to find an Army jump suit that looked like it would suffice. Back home where I slept from 7-10pm. Steve and American Thom arrived, as did Baby Tom. had a vodka or three and then headed down to Imperial Gardens. Nick, Kay and Tara and Steve were there, as was Paul D and Rodger and Tony. Had a great time. Much dancing to quite hard music. Some of our group were more outrageous than others (you know who you are!), and eventually at 4.30am it was deemed the right time to go back to Steve's. This we did - showered, changed and got ourselves ready and hit Trade - at about 7am. God was it busy! Had a fantastic time. Lots of people we knew and spent the time between the main floor, and Trade Lite. And the area by the fruit machines at the bottom of the stairs as we'd hooked up with a few people by then and it was a good central place to stay. Met Dan and Michael, who it turned out I knew through Tim Red Shoes - who then bizarrely put in an appearance. Finally left about midday, when I went back to Steve's to chill. It was a weird chill out, as it just got busier and busier as the day wore on! By the time Nick, Rodger and I got our cab to the Vauxhall (no rest for the wicked), it was *going off*. And as for the Tavern? Well wow. Haven't seen everyone in such a party mood for ages. Not sure why, but no-one seemed to be complaining!! Steve and Steve brought along Anthony - a lovely man they'd 'met' the previous evening, and it was good to meet him. Paul D was there again too, so it was fab. Music was slightly different than normal - more oldies - and that seemed to add to the Bank Holiday feel. Finally stumbled home at 11.30pm. Wrote to Tony on e-mail and fell into bed. Ay ay ay ay ay.

You'll be please to know that I'll be updating Minkered a little later this morning. Meantime, I feel in a bit of better humour today. My journey into work was eased by some perfect pop platitudes from Erasure - Cowboy. Yes, I was the one singing along to every word on the tube this morning. I grabbed the following CDs to listen to at work today - what a fantastic foray into the recent and not so recent past. Definitely sing-a-long-a-Dave day today:

Pet Shop Boys - Very
Mel C - Northern Star
Gene - Drawn to the Deep End
Depeche Mode - Ultra
Propaganda - 1234
The Cure - Galore
Björk - Post
Mansun - Six
Duran Duran - Duran Duran
My Life Story - The Golden Mile
Mansun - Attack of the Grey Lantern
Kate Bush - The Kick Inside
Kate Bush - Never Forever
The Cure - Mixed Up

Oh, the trips down Memory Lane I'll be having today. Any of your faves in amongst those? Lemme know.

Day from hell.
Week from hell (and it's only Tuesday).
Everything hell.
Think that about covers it for the moment.

Mink, minker, minkered. Oh dear oh Lord. Full update from home later. Suffices to say I had a great weekend - one of the best in a while... seemingly everyone was in party mood and boy did we! Too much to do here at work to do it justice, and I'm leaving early for a doctor's appointment. Don't worry - it's nothing catching. Or at least I hope not...

It's diagram city. Take a look at David's latest entry into the A-Z of the Vauxhall Tavern. I is for Incestuous. And boy is that just the simplified version. Quite why David and I have spent the morning doing diagrams we'll never know. Maybe it's synchronicity.

OK - just had a quick catch up on a few other blogs. Rob - consider an introduction to David only 2 days away... and then you can congratulate him for the A-Z of the Vauxhall Tavern in person. The blogging/Tavern/Retro Bar quiz overlaps keep a-coming. Maybe we should start putting up Venn diagrams of all the interraction up here on the Net. Oh no, maybe not. It might get confusing. Oh it did - but take a look at the results and see if you figure anywhere...

OK. I need to buy a flat. Ideally as centrally as possible; as many bedrooms as possible (two would be fine); no chain; as many interesting features as it can muster; all for around £150k. Looking to complete in 2 months. Am I out of my mind?

OK, nothing much to report really since I returned to these lovely shores. What shores? I'll have a large vodka arf arf. Quick summary of happenings and feelings since Tuesday very early morning:

Jet lag
Bursts of feeling incredible
Long periods of post-holiday blues
Thinking back to the amazing time spent with Tony
Thinking back to the amazing time spent in Oz generally
Missing David and the boys - it feels like part of me's AWOL!
Getting fairly minkered at the pop quiz on Tuesday
Realising I have to buy a flat - sooner rather than later
Drunken phone call to Tony on Tuesday post quiz
Sudden deep-rooted hatred of work
Sudden deep-rooted hatred of all things to do with work
Realisation I should have got Kylie tickets
Being wide awake between 4-5.30am this morning
Realisation of how much I depend on the internet
Realisation that I have some very lovely friends

There's more going on in my head, and those of you in the know, know. Laters...

I know this is going to kind of come in the middle of all the Oz stories, but I couldn't resist it. Already my favourite opening line of a news story for some time:
"A parachutist was blown off course and ended up in the middle of a coleslaw-wrestling contest". Fantastic. Visual images abound.
If your visual images can't actually come up with coleslaw-wrestling, click here.

The flight from Perth to Singapore passed without incident. I read Whistling for the Elephants by Sandi Toksvig, which was entertaining enough but turned into a bit of an ad for Women's Lib by the end. Too much Sappho for me. Wandered round Singapore airport a while then went to check mail and blog. Mail from Tony which started well but dealt me a bit of an unexpected blow. Seems like he's been mailing someone else since New Year - another emigrating Brit, and that although there were no promises, they were going to see what happens. Kind of the same deal we'd struck, but I was thrown a bit nevertheless. Almost as soon as we left for Heathrow I fell asleep. And managed to sleep on and off the the next almost 9 hours. Woke then and struck up conversation with a lovely Scottish girl next to me - Catriona. We shared stories and gossiped until the plane finally landed at 6am. Got my bags, the Heathrow Express, the tube to Elephant and was home at 7.30am. It was finally all over.

OK - I really do need to put something new up here, or people are going to be deserting me in droves. Oh, you already have.
So, I left you properly last in
Sydney: as I was heading off to get ready for Mardi Gras. I didn't get chance to have a sleep of any kind, so ended up in all my finery round at Bruno and Chris's at around 7pm as arranged. Everyone was still getting ready and so it was vodka and lots of photos before finally getting ourselves down to watch the Parade. David had got tickets for us all for the Bobby Goldsmith stands, so we set off in 2 cabs, met back there and had a drink before going off to our seats. Originally we were in two separate sections, but as it turned out we managed to all get together in the end. The Parade was great fun - and the atmosphere brilliant. This meant that by the time we got to the party we were in fine fettle, and we arrived at the RHI just in time for the first show - lots of dancers on stage to Music by Madonna. We danced for a while and had a bit of a trek round. I saw David Bassett almost straight away - it was great to catch up with him in the flesh finally. I tried to find Ian (old flatmate) to no avail, and another couple of people weren't to be found where we'd arranged. Toddled off about 2.15am to try and hook up with Phil and Tony. No Phil, but the lovely Tony was at the Dome where we'd said to meet. And that kind of set the tone for the night - Tony and I spent most of the time together from then until about 8.30am. Tony was very flirty and frisky and the mood caught on a bit I have to say. Haven't snogged so much for ages! Left Tony for a little while towards the end whilst I tried to hook up with all the missing people. Bumped into Jason Harding finally, but lost him again when I went off to find David, Chris, Nigel etc. Dragged Tony back to the RHI to say our fond farewells and then he and I went back to his place. Relaxed in bed after a shower and some juice. It was fantastic. Just cuddled, chatted, snogged and has the loveliest time. It was very, very hard to leave him at around 2.20pm, but I had to check out of the hotel and make my way to the airport. Did so, and only there did it really hit me that I was on my way home. Not happy. Didn't want to leave Tony, or Sydney if I'm honest. Flagged badly waiting for the plane to take off, and a delay of two and a half hours didn't help. Managed to doze until we took off, and they made a bit of time up so it was only about an hour late into:
Perth: Brett picked me up at the airport and we had a quick catch up back at his and a couple of drinks. Out to the Red Lion in preparation for a late licence bit of minkering, as it was a Holiday in Perth on Monday. It closed normal time!! What?? So, onto Connections where I think I drank more vodka than I ever have in my life in a vain attempt to want to dance. Didn't really happen, and that coupled with the tiredness meant that it was OK, but not the most fantastic time. Home about 1am and sleep. Up early the next morning and decided to head off to have brekky at Floreat Beach. Had the world's slowest service but nice bacon and eggs and coffee. Sunbathed a while and then back to Brett's. Packed and off to the airport. David was flying into Domestic so Brett dropped me at International and went to get him. This meant we had a final goodbye in Perth airport before my wonderful holiday was over. Highlight? Too many to mention. But the time spent with Tony was very special.

OK, no cheating. Who's going to be first to get the reference in the blog title bar?

I'm overdue with my minkering. I'm sorry. My body in one time zone, my head in another. As soon as I can get my head around being home, I'll update. Bear with me please!

Currently in Singapore airport. Too tired to do this properly now, but expect a full report on all Mardi Gras activities. I had a really, really fantastic time. Read more by Tuesday afternoon UK time!

Happy Mardi Gras!! It's 5pm Saturday and I'm just heading off to get ready for the party. Yesterday turned out to be just *lovely*. Met Phil for coffee in the afternoon, and had really just been pottering. Put in a call to Tony and he called back about 40 mins later. Dinner? That would be lovely. So I go home for a disco nap (called nano naps here in Oz) and finally get ready and to Tony's in Bondi for about 8.40pm. Had a beer and chatted about life, the universe etc. and then toddled out to a local Thai for some great duck noodle soup. Bottle of wine and back to his where we talked some more, and then things kind of progressed. (You get the picture? Yes, we see!) Went for brekky this morning and I finally left to come home around 1.20pm :o)
Got to Bondi Junction and decided to walk down through Paddington towards home. Bought Mardi Gras shorts (finally!), new sunnies (finally as well - same as my old Persol's but a see-through version), some CDs and had my hair cut. Met Phil for coffee and that's been about the sum total of the day. Oh, bumped into Ben (Bel's boyf), Christian (the Perth DJ I though was previously called Ross!) and, er, Tony :o). Have arranged to meet him at the Dome at 2.30am - it's always a bit of a hit and miss thing to actually meet with someone you've arranged to as everyone's minkered and there are, after all, some 20,000 people there! We'll see. I hope so.
Right that's it. I'm off to get ready then to Bruno and Chris's to meet David and Chris and Nigel and we'll have a drink before going to the stands to watch the parade. From there it's on to the party. Laters everyone x

Bleurgh. OK, had forgotten what it's really like to be having the after effects of a good minkering session in 30+ degrees C - not recommended. So, what happened yesterday? Well tried to get tickets for the Arrivals party, but it had sold out. Great. In a fit of not sure what, I logged on to www.pinkboard.com.au and looked to see if anyone was trying to get rid of tickets. What's most bizarre is I've no real idea where I knew the URL from, or even that they did a tickets thing. Sure enough they did though, and I sent off two emails tracking down 2 tickets each (though we only needed 2) on the long shot off chance that one might reply. Decided to go to the gym to work out my frustration, which was good. Came out of the gym and there was a phone message offering tickets! Fantastic!! How jammy is that? So, toddled off to pick them up and returned happy to get changed. Had dinner with Phil, and then we went to meet David at the Oxford. Oh yes, I'd arranged to try and meet up with David Bassett (ex from here), though I inadvertantly managed to stand him up. I called work as arranged, but he'd left 5 mins before - I'd forgotten he leaves at 5pm - and though I tried to track him down at various places I failed. I've spoken to him today, but not sure we'll actually get to meet up this trip, which is a shame. Never mind. Anyway, in the Oxford - David arrives and so do a few of the other from last night - including little v. cute Tony. His ex James was also there, and it was lovely to catch up with him too. At one point Tony dragged me off to the other side of the bar for a surreptitious snog - very nice!!! Watch this space.
Anyway, David and I went off to the Arrivals party - with me in a great mood as you can imagine! However, the party didn't quite live up to its billing - the music was very patchy and disjointed. The first DJ was a shocker! The second was marginally better and we had about a 15 minute session when it was fab. Still, it was good fun and nice to spend a night minkering with David. Bed in the early hours.
Up late this afternoon and down to meet Jon Boswell for lunch. Nice to see him again. Since then I've been in this lovely internet café catching up on mail and blogging. Still feeling a bit yuck to be honest. Not sure what else to do with the rest of the afternoon. Time to call a couple of people I think. Jason arrives tonight, so there'll be beers later. Phil's still around, David, Chris and Nigel, Bruno and Chris and who knows who else will be around too (Tony??? ;oD) so it should be fun. Minor minkering in preparation for tomorrow's mammoth session! OK, time to get my skates on.

Surreal evenings I have known. Got a call from Charlotte to say that her and Bel were in a bar between Paddington and Edgecliff and so off I toddled to try and find them. Had a (very) rough idea where I was going, but called Charlie when I was a bit nearer to get directions a bit more exactly. I'll pass you on to Bel, she said, though you'll have to be quick as my battery's about to go. Next thing - nothing. Oh really. So I think OK, I'll still find the place. And sure enough, the very next street I turned down was the right one! Yay!! So, had a couple of drinks with them, and reminisced about the times when we all worked together at Capital and what else had been going on in the two years since we'd all got together. Ben (Bel's boyf) joined us - also ex Capital, but not from when I was there. Bel works for Charlie now, and Charlie's boss is a woman called Helen - formerly at Capital but selling from Manchester. We get a call from her - she's round the corner, so we de-camp and catch up with her. There had been stories of another former Capital bloke - Steve Smith, also being seen in Sydney recently - and he used to be Helen's boss. Still with me? Well, who should then be in the same pub? Yup. Just bizarre. We then decided (in our semi-minkered state) to call Andy Carter at Capital - the guy I've kept in touch with most and who everyone knows - and do the 'you'll-never-guess-where-I-am-and-who-I'm-with' routine. Fantastic.
Said our fond farewells and I joined up with David, Chris and Nigel at Gilligans. Long Island Iced Teas a go-go. Great fun. We eventually moved downstairs and C and N left. Got chatting to some nice blokes - Ross (?) turned out to be a DJ at a radio station in Perth, and Tony (little, v. cute Tony) turned out to be the ex of another friend here. I'd even been to their place for cocktails about two years ago. I left very happily with Tony's number :o)
Heading off for brunch now. It looks as though the cloud is here for the day, and David P's not answering text messages yet so assume he's suffering from last night's minkering. My mission for this arvo is to try and get tickets for the Arrivals Party - which is another excuse to get thoroughly minkered. I think I may just have to indulge...

Wednesday. Cloud. Grrr. After yesterday's post I picked up my Mardi Gras ticket, tried to buy sunnies but couldn't find the right ones, and headed for the pool again. Had been there about 20 minutes, and had noticed that a) it was cloudy and b) it seemed to be getting darker - not quite right for 3.45pm. Suddenly there was an announcement over the tannoy at the pool: "Ladies and gentlemen, just to let you know that we've received a severe weather warning. There is a big electrical storm approaching and if there is lightning spotted within 2 kilometres of the pool we will have to evacuate. Please look to the pool attendants if this happens". Well, call me old fashioned, but I didn't actually hang around to see if they evacuated as a quick look to the south told me all I needed to know. The biggest mother of a black cloud mass I've ever seen! So I toddled off homewards but only got as far as the Domain when the heavens opened. I sheltered in the museum, but managed to see the most spectacular deluge and the added joy of some filming (something Roman... along the lines of Gladiator it looked to me) being completely washed out. Never seen so many sodden people. It lasted the best part of an hour before letting up enough for me to continue home. Only regret is that I didn't have a camera with me - for the rain itself, and for the incredible views of the city centre buildings in the odd post-storm light. Incredible.