'guitar penis' another hoax?

london snowed in

'cello scrotum' is a hoax

the uk is officially in a recession

banks continue to reveal more writedowns

oil rises again

plah goon

missed me?

12:30pm.
I knew I was going to the Thai with the wbf (wonderful boy friend) and his friends. In work I tried to concentrate but hardly any success. I started to daydream about spicy prawns coated with red and green chili peppers soaked in some sort of Thai spicy sauce (aka #68 plah goon) that made you want more and more. To get past this mirage I set out to have something nice for lunch. Moroccan chicken from EAT was no where close but it filled me. I resigned to defeat until dinner.

6:20pm
I raced home after work. Peeped through the windows to see what wbf was up to. He was already snoozing on the settee. He looks so cute when snoozing. One day I will catch him having a wank. He constantly tells me that he doesn't. He says he no longer does that sort of thing. I believe him. It's just have this little fantasy in my head that one day I will catch him stroking it and join in. Still Plah Goon on my mind.

7:30pm
We finally sent out to the Robin Hood. Much earlier than usual. We are both notorious for being late. Absolutely no fault of ours I add. If you have any concept of time and how it runs away then you know better than to blame us for something that was never under our control in the first place.

7:45pm
We walk in and find C and S sitting near the door. I always think people who like to sit near to the exit sit there to have a quick getaway. Much like the same reason some people like to sit in the aisle of a cinema. Either that or they suffer from some weird farting syndrome. Farts smell less if you are sitting on the end. Don't ask how I know. C likes a smoke (much like the wbf) so that has to be the reason. I sadly dismiss the farting theory in my mind. Damn you theory!

7:46pm
Shock registers on their faces that we show up early. It's only because we are plah goon greedy but I don't admit that. I must always remember to behave myself and keep my bad thoughts inside. After brief kisses I look around for fat cat. I haven't seen fat cat in ages. I wonder if he/she died? (I read that Thai animals can assume dual sexuality just like Hindu Gods) I don't say anyting to anyone and hope that fat cat strolls by soon or I think I will be sad. At least sad until plah goon arrives.

8:00pm
I'm very hungry now. I think I will surely faint shortly. Then I notice the fishes in the tank next to us. Fishes are boring creatures. There's a huge overweight spotty looking fish that reminds me of a leopard. He just rests on the bottom looking at me. I think he could be the other fishes granddad I tell wbf. He's not really bothered because he's chatting away about how we spent the week. I think granddad fish knows we are no threat to him. I could have him on my plate sprinkled with Thai red and green chillies but he knows we are having Plah Goon.

8:10pm
The rest of the party arrives. Fat cat arrives as well. I get my camera out for a shot but fat cat is too fat to sit still. I managed to get a picture of fat cat's 'a' hole. How rude I think. Then he/she goes off and gets played with by the Filipino boy (Filipino is posing as a Thai today).

8:12pm
I try and get some shots of the ladies. I make a mental note to look at my camera's manual because I always get shots of myself that makes me look retarded. I want to get some more pictures of wbf's friend Mo. She's very photogenic and whenever I feel down I have a giggle when I look at her pictures. I glance at the fishes again. They are mocking me now. Their mouths open and close in unison. They seem to be saying plah goon, plah goon. Then the Filipino boy comes around and says the table is ready. About time I think to myself.

8:20pm
We order some starters but they only serve as a teaser. I see some more fishes in a tank inside the wall. They transmit teasing messages again. I keep looking at them and thinking I might see the chef's hand going inside any minute to get one. Then I notice one of the big fishes with crap coming out of it's bottom. I make that shocking announcement to everyone as I have never seen fishes crap before. I gross everyone out for 2 minutes with that revelation. Wbf looks across and flashes a smile and a little wink. I can smell the plah goon now. It's on the way.

8:30pm
The mains arrive and the plah goon is there. It looks lovely and tastes lovelier. We're down to the last prawn and I tell my wbf to have it. He says no - you have it. He's so sweet. He's my plah goon.

a little story

a story...

"A boy was standing outside and having a tea break...a young woman and man walk past...they are staring at him and he them...so he looks away...she then shouts out...sorry for staring at you but I think you are soo good looking...he shrugs embarrassed...she then asks 'so can she have his number then'...the boy apologises and says that he is already living with someone...she says ooh shame...then replies it's also because you like men isn't it?...he says yes...she thanks him for being honest and goes away with a chirpy smile...."

graphs and mba

The other day I got a funny email from someone congratulating me on my MBA offer. He also basically said that I need to start getting accustomed to graphs. Graphs, graphs and more graphs. I'll be eating graphs for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I should be vomiting them at some point in time.

So I found this really dynamic piece of software that can create the little buggers faster than you can say 'bugger me silly'. In the interim please feast on some of the funny graphs he sent me:












There you go. I'm off to fill my hungry belly with some Colonel Sanders chicken from the High Street. By the way, it's funtastic weather today in London. Yay!

the duvet

the duvet...

I got a little poem sent to my inbox earlier this week. I think it was quite sweet. You won't want to sleep with me.

The bed is a simple thing
a place to sleep and make love
The bed is a simple thing
but sometimes comes a place to push and shove

A duvet keeps us warm at night
it snuggles round our bodies
A duvet keeps us warm at night
it keeps our dreams and worries

A duvet makes you feel safe
cuddling it when feeling sick and unwell
A duvet makes you feel safe
when alone at night and your partner you cannot tell

But sometimes it's taken
when your lover rolls over and hogs the lot
But sometimes it's taken
leaving you shivering with a cold bot!

It is a lucky person though
who shares it with their love
It is a lucky person though
who's partner fits like a glove

So there you are
a duvet is so many things albeit simple
So there you are
my god... i think it's given me a pimple!!

inside

getting inside...

Post failing to attract an offer from the best business school in the UK I felt down and out for quite a while. Rejection is not something easily shrugged away. Be it rejection of love (I've given my fair share as well), rejection of an idea (they usually happen in the shower, so easily dismissed sometimes), rejection of family for dismissing tradition and religion (hmm, no comment). Well. You get the drift.

After much delay and procrastination I got up to another grueling application process and decided to go for a Masters instead. I notched it down basically. MBA v MSc. Pish posh. Oh. I had to notch down the school as well. But still. No fly by night. They held their own stats in the UK and astronomically high in France. Then I got the call while in work one day. I remember I was in the middle of discussing a hit on a machine in Maidstone with my manager. They left it in the road. Can't really put a machine as big as that on a bicycle can you. Anyway. Life is all about coping with disappointment and bouncing back when you can. Another rejection. The esteemed panel said I was overqualified for a Masters. Blimey! Bloody Hell! Crikey! (Sorry, being non English makes me appreciate these sort of words - and use it often in daily speech)

But.

The panel indicated I should apply for their MBA. Oh no. Not again!!! They are taking the piss now (see, I have used it in the right place - I'm often told I don't). I asked the admissions officer if there was any sort of guarantee that I would be successful? He basically said: not until pigs fly (he basically said that, honestly). I gave the go ahead.

The next day I saw the school's number on my phone. Thinking another rejection call I was ready to flush the phone down the toilet. It was where I was at that time. Had to cut short and run out. Literally. It echoes when you talk in the toilet. People always know. I get caught when I lie cause the cubicles flush. Anyway. He was calling to let me know the panel deliberated and I was inside. Inside? What does that mean? He replied: 'Mister so so so, you have been accepted onto the so so so Business School's MBA program.

'Oh. I need to pee. I'll call you later ok....'

That's my story of getting inside. I was in shock. If I was someone who used obscene words in public I would have probably said: Fuck!! But. I have come a long-ish way. I used to say French instead of fuck in my home country. That was only because it's sill illegal to use that word but that's a different post. I can say fuck when I want to because I'm free of those shackles.

I'm to become a student again. I need to get a new laptop to take to class. A smaller cute one. I need a school bag. I need pencils and pens and notepads galore. I need some new clothes. Most importantly. I need to pay for all of this. Where does a guy find the money these days to pay for his MBA?

a la c

the pic speaks...

It's been quite a while and I've been in all sorts of bits and pieces. Mostly no good to be quite honest.

Like how I realized I just don't like the boy who stays upstairs. He's got a bod. A bod I'd like to look in the mirror and see in my reflection. He uses pro-max protein powder. He left it in the recycle bin the other day. He's got a squeaky voice and it comes thru the front bay windows when he buzzes her to let him in every night. She must not trust him since he's got no keys.

He moans when he climaxes. It sounds like a soft whimper that comes through the floor and spreads across my living room. It sounds exciting. To listen to another boy cumming in real. Where he spreads his seed is a mystery no one will know.

He parked his small car in her parking spot the other night. She must have been too drunk to drive hers. They stumbled upstairs and I had a plan. A plan with permission of course. I'm not going down all alone. He dared me.

So. There's the morning after. Always remember me ay matey.

the closet

I absolutely love this short.

the keys

the keys...

Lots to catch up cause I've been on some sort of emotional roller coaster the past few weeks. Ok-ish now and feel slightly better.

Last Sat we got a note slipped under the door from the Management Company that they scheduled an alarm check and the engineer would be around next Wed at 7pm. Someone should be there to let him in to perform his checks. I read the note and think - ok. That should be in order.

Then there's a knock at the door. I just woke up so have to scamper to put something on and cover the morning man. It's dear old Bev from upstairs. She's got the same note in her hand and a key in the other. She wants to know if I can let the engineer in her flat as she would not be around. I can't see any issue with that request but something in the back of my head whispers something.

I ask Bev to come inside for a cup of tea eventually because we should not really gossip about the couple upstairs in the hallway or we risk them hearing us and being thrown in the dog house. She's inside and we continue the gossip about how sad it must be to be 21 and an alcoholic (separate post). Then we talk about all sorts of things about us and she insists I must look at the Tudors as what's his name is absolutely gorgeous. It clashes with Star Trek so I'll think about it.

She says she keeps an eye out for us when she feels alone. She's on the top flat so birds eye view of the car and the road. She says she also feels comforted knowing the gay boys are around. I doubt we could do much to ward off any criminal activity to be quite honest but I'll let her go away thinking we can. We swap numbers and she leaves.

I look at the key and say to the bf: I think we got an appointment next Wed to snoop around. I'm very much looking forward to it - only because 99% of us would do the same and probably 70% would admit doing the dirty.

does your mother know?

all revealed...

The story about the boy I posted about in the last post continues.

In the week he called up Senior PM in Edinburgh to tell her he had a really really really BIG secret to share. She's a witty girl and responds. 'Is it as BIG as the Big from Sex & the City?' They both have a BIG laugh and talk about the crap summer weather than has been plaguing this United Kingdom.

They totally shy away from the topic all week. Instead opting to discuss issues that have cropped up, jerk chicken, red cherries and the specky control bitch from Australia who we have to work with and tolerate.

It's been a successful week on the project for them both. Management is happy with status reports and things are improved and happening on the ground level. All is well and fine on the Estate. On Thur SPM said she was not going to be in on Friday so wished the boy a lovely weekend. Of to anywhere special? he asks her. 'Just coming into London' she says and giggles away.

Thur rolls around and the boy was meeting a friend in Soho. He's early so walks down a bustling Oxford St and window shops a little to buy some time. The phone rings. It's SPM. She wants to know the BIG secret. It's time he thinks. For the truth. Finally.

'There's a Mr BIG and not a Mrs BIG' he says to her. Really? she says. He been living with his big for a while passing him on as Mrs Big. Which I personally think was not fair but the boy must have had his reasons I surmise. It's all about survival in a big foreign city and it's not enough that there's a Code of Conduct and a Stonewall for cover.

She always knew from the 1st time they ever spoke. Thrilled and sad at the same time that this boy has had to run away from his country. She insists to even the playing field and says she has a secret of her own but be prepared to be blown away as well.

The guy who he sits next to on the floor. The very older, bald, quirky, tennis playing bloke who no one really notices much. Well, she's seeing him. She was also seeing another bloke 2 desks away 6 months ago. 'Secrets. Does anyone really care?' she says. They both have a laugh together. He zips to dinner and she rushes to catch a flight into London.