Kiki & Herb - Jesus Wept, A Christmas Concert...

Last night Paul, James, Drew, Stuart, Blake and I went to see Kiki & Herb's show at the Queen Elizabeth Hall - Jesus Wept, A Christmas Concert. We found were just two rows from the front in the middle. Perfect seats. And what with James, Stuart and Blake all being Kiki virgins I had a feeling they were going to get it full in the face. And they did. As it says here: Putting the terror back into cabaret, Kiki and Herb return to London to premiere an updated version of Jesus Wept, their OBIE award-winning show. These performances are NOT SUITABLE FOR CHILDREN. And indeed it wasn't. Suitable for children that is. But very, very funny. A reprise of a previous show I'd seen but updated with some new songs (Scissor Sisters) and some new demented ramblings (Kiki and Herb are now immortal) along with all the old Christmas favourites such as Frosty The Snowman/Smells Like Teen Spirit/Theme from M*A*S*H*. Fabulous.

When Wife Swap Goes Wrong....

One of the US versions of Wife Swap is called Trading Spouses. And this one went oh so wrong (WMV format). Scary.

Ricky Gervais Podcast...

The Guardian Unlimited now hosts a weekly half-hour show / Podcast by Ricky Gervais, Stephen Merchant and Karl Pilkington. Hilarious drivel. I haven't laughed so hard it ages.

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe...

A bunch of us went to see The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe last night. Oh dear. I shall struggle to say anything good about this utter pile of pooh.

Perhaps I can say this (regular readers will know I'm a fan of the four word film review site):

Even wardrobe was wooden.

Aslan looked like bagpuss.

Dawn French's beaver sags.

CGI Lion, DIY plot.

Or as Dennis Pennis might have said: "It's the biggest film in Hollywood. 11 words."

Wild Weekend...

It was a bit of a wild weekend. It started with what I thought would be a 'quiet night in' on Friday. Wrong! Thanks for coming over Michael though.

On Saturday Ian, David and I went to a tranny/fetish all-nighter in Cable Street. The way you do. It was called KAOS at club Stunners - lots of trannies, straights, gays and fashion victims of every flavour. Some naked; dancing, boozing and a dark room. Fabulous. And at 4am I thought to myself this is why I live in London. For places like this. Oh and a fashion tip for those who may want to go: tranny admirers traditionally wear black - don't want to show up the gals in their garb. You learn the oddest things at tranny clubs!

On Sunday having barely recovered it was off to Dave's birthday party (Happy Birthday, Dave!) where I finally got to meet Nathan (Hi Nate!) and all the gang. Then down the road to Horse Meat Disco where I seemed to know half the club. Great fun.

Oman: The Pix...

Listen Without Prejudice...

I have a letter published in the Evening Standard today:

A lot of what George Michael says about the practical necessity of gay civil partnerships but not wanting to ape the institution of marriage makes sense (5 December). And I'd be the first to agree with him that gay open relationships are poorly understood by most people.

But whether Michael likes it or not, these types of open relationships aren't the norm even in the gay world - they are just one type of relationship. I should know. Having been in a long term gay relationship like Michael I too realise that it often requires the sort of trust that goes beyond mere fidelity. After the early stages of a relationship, it's love and understanding that binds you together, not sex. Being unfaithful is not the same as losing faith.

This is precisely where the new civil partnership shines. In the unfortunate event a partnership goes off the rails its dissolution could only be based upon the grounds of separation, desertion or unreasonable behaviour; adultery is explicitly excluded. So unlike marriage - which for so many couples ends in divorce and heartbreak on the basis of a moment of faithlessness - gay couples are free to make their own choices of what being faithful means and still be recognised under the law. As George says, we should listen without prejudice.


UPDATE: To those people who called or sent me messages of agreement or support I thank you. And to those people who sent me vile messages and hate e-mail... just ask yourselves what you are so afraid of?

Love Plus One...

In the office today. Back in the saddle. Did I say saddle? I meant harness. And it's our Christmas Party tonight. I'm not going to go though. That dreaded "+1" puts me off.

I popped out for a swifty in the Man Bar last night. Just to help me get my head down you understand.

Oh, and keep at eye out for today's Evening Standard letters page. Publish and be flamed.

Sneaker Sniffer...

Ian and I happened upon this advert on the tube the other day. Is it me or does it look a bit pervy? Now don't get me wrong, I've got anything against pervy. Why some of my best friends are pervy.

A typical advert for plimsoles pumps training shoes sneakers trainers would usually focus on the aesthetic; the style or the look. Very external things. Look at me I've got new trainers. I look great in them. Aren't you jealous? Wear these shoes and you'll look good.

Whereas this advert sends out an altogether more personal message. These trainers are sensual. They smell good. Why don't you smell them? They will make you happy. Aroused even. These trainers are for you and no one else. Smell the quality. Wear them and you'll feel good.

Oh, and what exactly is he doing with his right hand? Naughty.

The JCB Song...

Out in time for Christmas this JCB song is really sweet. Gets a bit boppy towards the end. The web site's pretty cool for doodling too. There's also a video.

Oman: Day Six (well, for 15 minutes away)...

A nice chillaxing time yesterday on the beach of the, if the blurb is to be believed, seven star hotel was just slightly marred towards the end by the fact I knew it was almost time to head home. So I consoled myself with a Swedish massage. The way you do. Muscat Airport isn't the most glamourous point of departure either but it served drinks and me very well so I wasn't complaining. The journey was seemingly never-ending (fourteen hours door to door) but relatively uneventful; the BA cabin crew service was poor (no change there then), the stop over in Abu Dhabi needlessly long and the movie I managed to stay awake for was a bit disappointing. War Of The Worlds (why did they drop the 'The'?) was high on action yet low on just about everything else. I simply didn't care about Tom Cruise or his sniffling kids and secretly wanted the Martians to win. "Is it terrorists?" asks the boy when the Martians first attack. "No, they're from another place," chips in Tom Cruise. Scriiiiipt! Anyways, I'm home now and in much need of some shut eye. Good night all. Zzzzz.

Oman: Day Five...

Being the last full day here I've decided to maximise my time. So I'm writing up all the notes from the business part of the trip and been checking work and home e-mails so I've not got too much of a backlog when I get back. All being well I might be able to squeeze in a bit of time by the pool too.

Oman: Day Four......

Work now finished I can relax. We toured Muscat, did some shopping and took in some of the sights. It's a beautiful country and can perhaps be typified by one word. Tidy. It's amazingly tidy: no dust, no dirt, no litter to be seen with flowerbeds, trees and bowling green-flat lawns everywhere. Quite how they keep it so neat is beyond me. Just incredible for a place so arid. The temperature is just right too - about 28 degrees - so I'm intending to do a bit of sunbathing by the pool this afternoon. Oh, and we had to change hotels earlier. Now at the Al Bustan Palace which, as it's name suggests, is simply palacial. God, I hate business trips.

Oman: Day Three......

Work started properly today. We got to meet members of the Omani Royal Navy, Omani Royal Air Force and Omani Royal Police. I shall have to keep mum about what was discussed but needless to say... I hung on every word.

News From Back Home...

Gay Weddings, Telewest becomes NTL becomes Virgin and (could it be true?) Steps to reform.

Oman: Day Two...

I had a terrible night's sleep last night. It wasn't the alcohol, oh no. I did my back in by slouching badly on the plane and later in the bar so by the time I got to bed I was in agony. I was woken up every five minutes throughout the night by shooting pains up and down my back. At four in the morning I'd reached the end of my tether and was lying in my back on my hotel room floor with my legs in the air trying to find a position that wasn't uncomfortable. No really. Anyways, come morning I took four neurofen and soon felt better. Why hadn't I taken them earlier? D'oh!

I had breakfast delivered to my room being a lazy sod and had a much needed lie-in. Early afternoon I popped down to the pool (did I mention I'm in a five star hotel on the Gulf Of Oman?) and had lunch on the hotel veranda over looking the sea. Things were indeed looking up.

The day just kept improving as I booked myself an hour long Swedish massage all on expenses and not long after discovered that I didn't need to start work until after midday tomorrow. Suitable manipulated I met up with some work colleagues later in the afternoon and ventured out for a Mongolian meal, the way you do. The food was spicy and chewy - that yak never tasted better.

So I'm now back in my hotel room having seen a bit of Muscat (nice sunset, mountains in the near distance, clear sky and every building adorned with gaudy neon) and watching The Simpsons in Arabic on Omani TV. Bliss.

Oman: Day One...

I'd been putting off packing. After all, each item packed would put me one step nearer to the dreaded take-off. So Paul, God bless him, had to help me pack last night. Admittedly I was a bit droggy (I'd fallen asleep watching QI nursing a glass of Fleurie) so if he hadn't helped me I'd probably have grabbed the first things I'd laid my hands on. And pop-socks aren't the best thing to wear with a suit.

In any event the morning came and despite London Underground's best attempts to thwart me, I arrived at Heathrow on time. Being a nervous flyer I checked the television screens in Departures every thirty seconds for updates. Every. Thirty. Seconds. I. Checked. For. Updates. And suddenly my worst fears where confirmed. They actually changed the Gate. I immediately turned round to tell my travelling companion the news... before realising I didn't actually have one to tell. Silly me. So I spoke to myself very quietly, "They've changed the Gate. It's Gate 12 not Gate 2. It'll be fine." God, I'm sad.

So anyways I board the plane. And one of the air stewardesses clocks me (must have been the eyes darting left and right and jerky head moments). "Your first time?", she says sweetly. "Sadly, no." I reply frowning. She thinks for a moment and says, "Hmmm. Can I get you something? A brandy, perhaps?" I beam and measure out with my thumb and forefinger, "Just a tiny triple!" Off she scuttled. Bless her.

Four hours later we're half way through the flight; I've downed the best part of the bottle of wine, two more large brandies and a gin, watched Batman Begins (excellent) and most of Mrs Henderson Presents (better than I thought it would be) and she says to me, "you feeling more relaxed now?" "Oh yessh. Mush besser, fanks"

Luckily there were no blood tests when we finally arrived at Oman airport.

Oman...

I'm off on my travels again first thing Saturday. This time to Oman for six days; bit of work, bit of pleasure. Hopefully I'll be able to use the hotel's Internet facilities but failing that as per usual I'm taking an array of technology with me that should keep me connected.

As anyone who has traveled with me before can testify - I'm never short of a bit of technology when I'm on the move. And much to these traveling companions initial amusement, but later I suspect quiet relief, there's usually a spare socket for them too. Because I take an entire UK power extension board with me wherever I go. Well, why not? There's the phone charge to plug in, the computer, the speakers, the iPod, the digital camera, the video camera... and with a power extension board you only need one adapter in a foreign country. The only slight snag sometimes I hit is that the security personnel at the airports get a bit edgy when they see all those wires, cables and plugs in my bags. I ask you, do I look like a terrorist? (OK, don't answer that!)

News Quiz...

Last night the ever lovely Ian got tickets for us to see a recording of The News Quiz at the Drill Hall. The News Quiz is a weekly BBC Radio 4 comedy show that takes a sideways look at the news a la Have I Got News For You. This week the regulars Alan Coren, Andy Hamilton and Jeremy Hardy were joined by new boy Alan Parsons. As ever Simon Hoggart was in the chair. All very amusing and if you want to catch the (I suspect heavily edited) frivolity it airs at 6:30pm tonight and 12:30pm on Saturday.

After the show Ian and I retired to a local boozer for a pint where I rather brain sluiced about the environment. Heavens. I really should apologise for such half-baked ramblings. I blame the weather. And the beer. Great night though.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire...

Last night Paul and I went to see HPatGoF at the Vue in N1. We'd had a rather rushed buffet Chinese first which was in stark contrast to the film itself coming in at two and three-quarters of an hour.

Even so, this particular Harry Potter outing is itself a rather abridged version of the six hundred and thirty-six page ox stunner of the JK Rowling book. No Uncle Vernon for instance and the fledgling romances, although craftily done considering the target audience, seem all too brief. That said, the film stood up in its own right as a first class piece of entertainment - funny, sexy (!), lavish, exciting, a visual delight, well plotted (Harry finds himself selected as an underaged competitor in a dangerous multi-wizardary school competition) and at times actually quite scary. Severing of hands, torture and cutting of human flesh all played their part. Oh, and the new Doctor Who's in it!