17 November 2012


Oh my gosh it has been too long! Soz about that.

I have good reasons.

I have become a serial wedding guest. 5 this year thanks. 3 in the last few months. 1 in London, 2 in the countryside, 1 in Wales and 1 in Milan. Natch.

People keep saying to me, "Well you're at that age where everyone is getting married. Soon they'll all be having babies!"

I can't help but think that is a direct swipe at my singledom and gaydom.

So I say, "Well I've ingested quite a bit of cum in my time so perhaps I'll be the first."

That usually puts a cork in their bottle.

The wedding in Wales was on the weekend just gone. I have to tell you, what a hoot. A haunted castle in the Brecon Beacons where the gays were well represented -17 in total making the trek from London and Sydney. The rest of the crowd were Welsh rugby playing/loving heterosexuals. Yay!

It was like a choreographed dance on one side of the dance floor and the Haka (or whatevs) on the other side.

Welsh boys are super cute though. Gavin Henson, I'm looking at you.
All that aside, there was huge gay drama.

There was no mobile signal *clutches pearls*

No texting. No email. No Facebook. No Twitter. No Grindr. It was like we ceased to exist. Every now and then somebody would get coverage in the bar and fags would run from all corners of the castle just to get a status update in. The WiFi would then crash from the sheer number of hand held devices in operation and never really recovered. From that day forth, the gays talked about the morning somebody got coverage like it had entered Welsh folklore.

So, with the gays social media unoccupied, we all had to enjoy each others company without scrambling for iPhones the moment somebody became boring. Thankfully nothing was boring. The ceremony was in a part of the castle where Adelina Patti a famous soprano and once owner of the castle had built a theatre to entertain royalty. Apparently she was like the GaGa of her time, which the gays could relate to. Beth, the bride, was a vision and there was an audible gay gasp as she entered the theatre.

As the party entered the early hours, I was seated in the bar area (probs trying to get in a tweet @ProjectNewBF) when my eyes rested on a gentleman who had arrived for the later part of the evening. A local friend. A straight local friend. Kind of handsome with sideburns that looked like lamb chops, but if I had to put my finger on it, the lack of height was the underwhelming feature.

He was looking at me oddly. Then he gestured for me with his head toward the door. At first I thought he had mistaken me for someone else. Then when he flicked his head toward the door once more, I thought he might have a tic. Third time, I realised he actually wanted me to follow him and while it wasn't confirmed, I think it was for haunted castle sexy time! He stood up and walked toward the door. I followed, mainly because I wanted to know whether he was willing to go through with whatever he was suggesting.

As we neared the front door, he turned and said, "I've never done this before."

I knowingly played dumb, "What haven't you done before?"

"This, you know."

He accompanied "This, you know" with a hand motion that made no sense and I thought, maybe I hadn't done what he was talking about before. Then as he peeled off to a sparsely populated part of the castle, I realised the "this" was something I was quite familiar with.

I understand straight guys want to experiment (and God bless them for having a go) but do they have to do it on my time? Sure there is the first time thrill of discovery, but more often than not it's you giving a blow-ey in a drafty corridor to an unwilling-to-reciprocate straight guy. I've been there before and believe me as someone who likes to make it all about themselves in the boudoir, when those tables are turned, it is a bitter pill to swallow. Pun intended.

It all just seemed so premeditated as well. "I've never done this before." And I'm fuckin' Taylor Swift (I wish). Like it was his gay hook: the straight Welsh boy out for more than a Rugby conversion. When really he has a well worn Grindr app and full coverage in any part of that castle.

So I fucked him anyway.

No I didn't. But as the dust settled on the night before, the stories about him started. Notably my room mate Gavin (not Henson) who told me about this guy with bushy side burns who was chatting to him at the bar. The guy tried to tell him in a very roundabout kinda way that he might have an inkling of a sense of an attraction to, wait for it:

Lady Boys.

And he hit on me.

Well if it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, it's probably an Asian pre-operative transsexual.


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