Quick Quiz...

Top Of The Pops...
Watching Marc Almond on So:Graham Norton last night brought back some memories of when we were kids.
Come Thursday night it was Top Of The Pops. It was always must-see TV. My brother, my sister and I just had to watch it. In those pre-MTV days it was the only way you could see your favourite band or singer. We didn't buy Smash Hits or NME so we didn't know what bands looked like until they appeared on TOTP. To this day my Dad still claims he never watched it. Yet every Thursday he seemed to find himself on the sofa in the sitting-room hiding behind his newspaper pretending to read. We three would be sitting on the carpet glued to set in silence. He would try to remain silent but just couldn't. Parents always need to let you know that they disapprove of someting and my Dad was no different. He had three ways of doing it when watching TOTP. Number one: If someone appeared on the show whose hair was too long or too short or they were wearing clothes that he considered too strange we'd get a brief rustling of the paper. Number two: If he thought the song being played had no tune or was too loud he'd simply tut. Number three: If the band was making crude or sexual inuendo by way of lyrics or dance he'd cough loudly. Combinations of tuttting, rustling and coughing became such a integral part of watching TOTP that we three soon learnt to block them out completely.
One certain Thurday though it was different. Tainted Love was a smash hit and everyone was talking about it at school. Soft Cell were due to appear on Top Of The Pops for the first time and we all had to wait for near the end of the show to see who they were. We three kids waited with baited breath as the familiar opening bars of Tainted Love started. And suddenly there he was. Dressed in black with (horror of horrors) makeup on. Only women wear makeup we thought. And he had enough eyeliner to sink a battleship. He was thin, pale and hitting all the wrong notes. We loved it. Marc Almond had come into our lives. Strangely throughout the song we didn't hear a peep out of my Dad. The song had finished but we had heard no tutting, no paper rustling and ceratinly no coughing. Perhaps Dad had missed it, being too engrossed in something he was reading. Perhaps we quite liked it after all. Perhaps we secretly admired that little waif, that little stray, that little diva. But oh no. He'd seen it alright. He was just trying to find the words. Trying to think of what to say. And then he did. He said it. Almost as a matter of fact. "All that man needs is tits!" We all laughed.

Turn your speakers up for this...
Roll up, roll up. Cure your hangover instantly! You can see what great shape you're in. No problem.

The Evil Empire...

So your word processor has just crashed again. Let me tell you why. Blame memory leak.

I love a big opening...

Not only am I going to see Soft Cell this week :-)
I'm going to see them three times! :-))
And I'm going to the launch party of Ocean :-)))

And now, Local News...
As I've been all but house-bound the last few days I've taken to reading the free local newspapers that drop through my letterbox. These organs would normally get chucked straight in the bin but when you've got time on your hands you'll read anything. Among all the adverts for local shops and taxi firms and the numerous pages of houses and flats for sale or let are those strange pieces of local news that you rarely get a chance to see anywhere else. Whether they are made up or real I have no idea. Here are a couple of examples that caught my eye.

Collecting Pokemon cards is now considered passé for many lslington primary school kids, who have outgrown the expensive Japanese cartoon characters and have a preference, instead, for swapping free prostitute cards from public telephone boxes. According to an lslington Gazette report, prostitutes have fled crackdowns in areas such as King’s Cross and headed tdwards lslington, attracting trade with their lurid X-rated cards. Concerns about the problem have reached government level, and legislation is expected soon to make “carding” a criminal offence. Spoil sports. All I needed was "Busty French Polisher" to complete my set.

Poilice were called to restore order after offers of a telly for 99p sparked mayhem. Bargain hunters camped outside a new 99p Stores outlet in Seven Sisters Road, Holloway, in sub-zero temperatures after managers pledged to sell TVs and videos for less than a quid. But by the 10am opening times things had got out of hand when a crowd of several hundred began jostling for position. Worried staff managers had to call for police to maintain order. Karim Lalani, chief executive of 99p Stores, said: "This is our first store - hence we did not realise just how enthusiastic people would be for this offer. We will do it differently next time." Oh really? Apparently they had just one TV to sell for 99p. Sound like canny marketing.

The great ennui...
As Satre said: "I think they do that to pass the time, nothing more. But time is too large, it refuses to let itself be filled up." The dreadful burden of having nothing to do. I think my intellectual wheels are spinning in the dirt.

I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired...
At home (again) today. Still too ill to go to work.
- Logged into work e-mail, read the interesting ones from friends and ignored all the work ones with a clear conscience. Ha, ha. Hee, hee. F**k 'em!
- Downloaded tracks from Napster and imagined the compilations I could make but never did it because I'm too damned lazy. I just hate myself.
- Listened to the long version of Total Eclipse by Rosenstolz (feat. Marc Almond) eleven times in a row. Campy, a bit like Army of Lovers. I love it.
- Flicked through 70 channels of digital TV shit and managed to keep up with the plot of 6 soap operas, 1 real opera, 2 chat shows and 5 films all at once. Crap TV is the thief of time.

Let he who is without sin...
We were in a restaurant the other day trying to remember what the seven deadly sins are. There were six of us and we just couldn't get them right. Thanks then to Carl for sending them to me today with a nice link too.
The Seven Deadly Sins: Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Greed, Gluttony and Lust
The Seven Heavenly Virtues: Faith, Hope, Charity, Fortitude, Justice, Temperance and Prudence
Why not take a Lust test and see how you rate?
You can also vote for what you think the Eight Deadly Sin should be. My favourite is that it should be a deadly sin to "create Web pages that when printed fill up an entire sheet and then one line of a new sheet."

I'm still ill...
Brave soldier that I am I struggled into work yesterday. This is despite having a viciously sore throat, a throbbing headache caused by congestion and that kind of all-over aching feeling that only comes with either Grade A hangovers or a particular nasty virus. It's the latter I think I have. By early afternoon I'd had enough and tottered on home to my sick bed, which is where I've been ever since. At least I can still blog from here. I think I'll take Nurse Sim's advice which is if you're ill write a long blog and you'll feel better.

It's a sad day...
For Napster but why not try Gnutella, Rapigator or Imesh?

Rolling back the years...
We didn't do very well last night at the Pop Quiz. 14 out of 20. I'm crap at "what's the year?" type questions. And guess what every question in last night's quiz was?
Have a go and see how you do. Every track was a UK number one. You just have to say the year it reached the top of the charts.
01. I Should Be So Lucky: Kylie
02. Maggie May: Rod Stewart
03. The Power: Snap
04. Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick: Ian Dury and the Blockheads
05. Edge Of Heaven: Wham!
06. I'd Do Anything For Love: Meatloaf
07. Pump Up The Volume: M/A/R/R/S
08. I Feel Love: Donna Summer
09. Breathe: The Prodigy
10: Start: The Jam
11. Stay: Shakespeare's Sister
12. La Isla Bonita: Madonna
13. Bohemian Rhapsody: Queen
14. Too Shy Kagagoogoo
15. Blockbuster: Sweet
16. The Model: Kraftwerk
17. Country House: Blur
18. Wuthering Heights: Kate Bush
19. Cum on Feel The Noize: Slade
20. Ghost Town: The Specials
We got # 3, 5, 12, 16 and 19 all wrong by 1 year too early and # 8 wrong by 2 years too early.

Cheap CDs...
Very cheap CDs with free delivery. Thanks to Marky for this.

It's in the paper...
From the Guardian: "Moments before the attack Mr Mugabe had finished off a lunch of smoked salmon and chicken with wild..." - it's always good to know what a facist has for lunch, eh Guardian? Go Peter!

Thanks to the Guardian (again) for this about the Lib-Dems' attempt at attracting the pink vote. "And at a gay cafe in London, Charles Kennedy was working the homosexual vote. He would defend the party line on gays on radio, TV, and 'to any journalist who you care to put in front of me!' When you're running third, you have no need to fake sincerity." Too true.

From today's Guardian (OK so I read it cover to cover!) this article about pop music. "It is axiomatic that every generation thinks the music of its youth was a benchmark of pop greatness. Because of this, it isn't thought seemly for someone over a certain age to pass judgment on any scene that wasn't created for them." We like to think we transcend such snobbery don't we David, Dave and Ian? As usual we shall be demonstrating our broad and deep knowledge and appreciation of all things 'pop' tonight at the Retro Bar's Pop Quiz. Let's hope the gorgeous Darren can make it too.

I'm ill...
Sore throat. Husky voice. Fenella Fielding eat your heart out.

The Three Degrees of Separation...
As Disney would have us believe, it's a small world after all. And sadly I'd agree.
You may think the small social circles you move in are totally isolated but...
You may think you're the only one who liked Kim Wilde but...
You may think it's a long way down to the chip shop but...
It's a small world after all.

How do I prove my point? Well not by a concrete example but by generality. Let me try and appeal to your own personal experience. Everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who knows me. Or you. Or anyone. It's hard to be unknown in this world let alone this city. It's the six people rule. You're never more than six people away from anyone. You get introduced to someone at a party and immediately it's, "Don't you know so-and-so?" or "Didn't you used to go to such-and-such with *insert any name here*?" Big Brother, Shakespeare's Sister, Old Father Time and Mother Earth are all merging their address books. The world is shrinking. And shrinking fast.

Well if it's a small world, it's an even smaller gay world. I'd say about half the size. You're never more than three people away from any other gay man. Last night David, Ian and I were chatting about who we knew who had slept together in David's circle of friends. Needless to say we had to take off our shoes and socks and use our toes to keep count.

So if the world at large has it's Six Degrees Of Separation we, as gay men, have our Three Degrees Of Gay Separation.

"When will I see you again?" A lot sooner than you'd think.

TV Go Home...
Some friends of mine contribute to this site to rip the piss out of TV schedules. Who ever said sarcasm was the lowest form of wit? It's a right old laugh. David and Ian will no doubt appreciate why I'll be glued to my set for "That Ain't Workin'!".

All Your Base Are Belong To Us...

The Guardian are pushing this All Your Base... stuff so hard in this it-is-so-hip-now-but-won't-be-in-five-seconds kind of way I thought you might want to check it out. Strangely I have the original Zero Wing game but never picked up on the bad translation.

End of the affair...
It's over. At last. I can breathe fresh air again and I feel strangely elated. The weight that was crushing me has finally been lifted. I'm almost floating. I was dreading the end. Would he make things difficult? Would there be tears and recriminations; bitterness and regret? Would I have to go somewhere else? How would I react to a change of routine? Would I be in shock? Just how sad would I feel? In the end he made it very easy for me.

It was 9:05am. It was raining. I was just paying for my new improved recipe less than 5% fat Spaghetti Bolognese. Then it all happened so quickly. Immediately I knew we were finished. It was over. He had simply looked up and looked right through me. He had just blanked me. Not a smile, not a nod, not a word. Within moments he was talking to some ugly looking strumpet on check out number five. My Sainsbury's security guard had moved on. Though our affair had lasted not quite 24 hours, I thought we really had something going. Something real. But I was deluded. It wasn't me he had been interested in. It was the fact that I would listen to him. And he'd already found someone else who was a better listener than me. Someone who not only nodded and smiled back at him but also asked him questions connected with him on a level that I hadn't been able to. My security guard had found someone else to bear his soul too. Someone else to connect with. Someone else.

Top of the Popex...
After what seems like ages I've pipped old swishy to the top - long may it last (some hope)