Saturday 16 October 2010

Sweety, Darling...

And once again a whole bunch of time passes and I don't actually write anything. It's getting so I can't write at work, b/c I actually have to do work (imagine), and then I'm tired and grumpy when I get home and it's time for bed. What's a silly little boy to do?

Anyway, David, Robin and I spent today in Chelsea looking at furniture and kitchens. How very extremely middle aged and middle class! We had a lovely lunch of eggs benedict at the in-store brasserie at the department store while we flipped through big, beautiful kitchen and decorating catalogues. It did feel a bit of an AbFab day (minus the big lines of coke, traffic tickets and general mayhem).

Hopefully hopefully hopefully we'll actually exchange contracts next week, and complete the purchase on 9th November. Considering that we first saw this place sometime in July, it's been a bit of a slog. Still though, we're getting excited about decorating stuff, though God only knows how we're going to afford this sort of silliness. Oh well - we'll manage I'm sure, somehow. (I'll find a nice street corner... ;-)

Went out last weekend to a leather/rubber type dance club, held in a car park underneath South London railway arches - a bit sort of rave-esque. There were two dance arches, one 'chill out' arch (complete with a tea/coffee/hot dogs booth - ick), with the punishment cages right next to it (the normal place to put those sorts of things, I am sure). Big smoking area outside, full of trashed queens (leather daddies are usually actually big opera poofters when it comes right down to it - fastidious and ridiculous and unable to see that they are actually grownups playing dress-up games). And, of course, there was the naughty room, complete with a parked car so people could do things in the back seat. Kind of an amusing place I have to say (went there with Robin and Avi - David had more sense). And then there were the toilets - oh God. Put several thousand people, mostly men, add nowhere near enough portapotties, none of which seem to work properly and you get, well, you don't get any surfaces you would like to spend my time anywhere near. Next time I think they need to improve the toilet situation, b/c I'm really surprised no one went away from that place without cholera. But, overall it was an amusing night, though it does, once again, demonstrate to me that I am just far too cynical to take any of this sort of thing even remotely seriously - even when I am running around in clunky big army boots and a rubber surfer suit. Very fashionable. Not very comfortable. Honestly, I don't know how guys go to these things and spend the entire night in head to toe rubber and don't, quite literally, die. I did ask a guy once, and he said you just get used to it. I suppose people ask me the same thing when I say I ride my bike 100 miles. If it's your thing, you just do it, and you figure out how to deal with the difficult bits.

Anyway...

It's definitely autumn. Nights are getting worryingly long, quite quickly, not to mention cold. The leaves are sort of beginning to think about turning vague shades of not green (London is not known for its autumn colours), and I think the trains may have already altered their schedules to make up for the 'wrong kind of leaves' being on the tracks.

Oh, and in a sure sign of the apocalypse, 2.5 years after it was requested, they actually put showers into my building at work - got rid of one of the women's toilets, which is good, b/c we don't want women using the toilet - they might start getting silly ideas about voting or driving cars... ;-) Still can't lock my bike in the building though, as it is a 'health and safety hazard' (you know - they catch fire, bite people in the leg, carry rabies, that sort of thing), so I still have to lock it across the street in the Town Hall basement. How I suffer.

Right, I'm getting random now, so I will probably go. Robin has just fished a CD out of the DVD player, which he has set up in the kitchen, over the sink. Just another Saturday evening in our happy gay household, it seems.

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