After spending a week fixated on tits, which I have to say was quite eventful and rewarding, I’m now back on arses. Smell my fingers!!
I Only Drank OJ But I Felt Really Tired And I Don’t Know What Came Over Me
STOP THE FRICKIN PRESS: After my call for bizarre yet legal pornography in the last post I came across this … strangely sexual but I can’t stop thinking - what’s up with lei/bib and the kettle?
Do Ya Think My Head Looks Big In This?
It’s a bit stupid what you miss from where you used to live. Most people say friends. Others say restaurants or bars. I used to go to Kensington Roof Gardens all the friggin time and this is why I miss these chaps…
Mr and Mrs Flamingo Are Feeling Pallindromic Today
Under the influence of the pink mafia I underwent complete bodyhair prosthesis (more or less). I’m a would-be triathlete now and having body hair is a contentious issue. So they proceeded to wax the living bejesus out of my:
Eyebrows
Guts
Chest
Stomach
Legs
Frank & Beans
I didn’t go Brazilian, and my freckle is thankfully still untouched, but I do feel about half a kilo lighter and a bit more streamlined.
However, not in the original day’s plans was the subsequent, impromptu spray-tan carried out in the privacy of my own bathroom by the mobile spray-tan chick and the four queens on hand checking out my cock.
The Results:
The Tan May Darken Further Overnight. Bugger!
As I am signed up to complete the Gold Coast Triathlon in March and then Byron the following month, I went and bought a tri bike at the weekend. It looks proper mint guy.
It’s like Knight Rider on two wheels but with no Turbo Boost button that jumps over trains
For those playing at home it is the Giant TCR Aero 2. A great bike…
…however, it has already caused me great anguish…note:
A) After my first ride my perineum was battered senseless on the saddle that it began spasming to the point I almost ejaculated involuntarily
B) I stacked as I forgot I was sporting clip-in cycling shoes. This caused me to tip over in an ignominious fashion causing bruising and grazes to my thighs, knees and achilles
A Real Time Re-enactment Of The De-Beautification of Russell Allen
C) At the end of my first ride I almost couldn’t stand upright as I had been doubled over for 45 minutes straight. I really must be more considerate to you ladies the next time I get one of you in this predicament
However, there is also a point D that hasn’t occured yet but there are whispers afoot.
D) The gay-boys from over the way want to hold me down and wax my legs as they are concerned I may get an infection from my sporting injuries. I might even get a tug out of it, if I’m lucky.
To Wax Or Not To Wax - That Is The Question!
The world gym champs has been on in Melbourne for the best part of a week and it has re-awakened some pink feelings in me. I want to be a bad-invisble, front-pike tumbling muthafucker that’s what. I know doing gym is far more gay than going to a gym but I know what I’d rather do, and I know where I can legitamately wear more lycra. Result!!
For the last 12 months I’ve been toying with the idea of going to Gymnastics to:
A) Be as supple as an bad-ass OG, you know, for the laydeez.
B) Get well fit, like properly fit, like legs the size of tree trunks fit.
C) Be able to do bad-ass tumbles on the street just like Tom Cruise does in The Firm.
D) Pull off some extreme feat of stretching while doing something innocuous like waiting in line at the Post Office.
I Hate The One-Man Wheelbarrow Race
The idea got into my head when last November I was on the beach at Broadbeach and I almost had a prolapse trying to complete a double cartwheel with a round-off. In the space of two seconds, I pulled a quad, a hammy, two calves and rooted my back. I was only seconds away from having grapes fall out of my arse but fortunately, for all and sundry, the sphinc held it together. I knew then that to get to Melbourne 06 I needed a lot of practice.
You think that the floor routine is hard. Spare a thought for the illustrator
So, I really want to do gym right, I want to be able to do a handspring and not an elbow break. I wanna run full pelt at a vault, do some triple salto and nail the landing, I want to sit down and watch someone else to the Pommel Horse and the Rings. The main issue is that if I want to do gym I have to do gym with some double-hard looking bastard called Sebastian, Francis or Peregrine. Worse still, they practise all that ribbon and ball, and all that rhythmic shite. Give me strength. If I am going to do something this gay at least make it cool.
I’m feeling particularly sinful at this very moment in time. Whether it is imbibing, ingesting, snorting, licking, munching or tonguing I feel like I need more, better, quicker, faster.
Gluttony is awesome. I can’t get enough of gluttony. As Virginia Woolf once said:
This corset’s a bit tight, gi’us a brandy and make it double and make it snappy. Alright Garcon!!?!
It could have been Oscar Wilde who said that, someone a bit ‘musical’ anyway. He was a Mr Fancypants and everyone loved him, didn’t they. They didn’t disaprove that he overdid the silk finery and was a consumer. They disapproved of the fact he was a coco-shunter and even that made him even more popular. So in the vein of Mr Wilde, here are the 3 gayest things that I want right now but…
Louis Vuitton Bastille Messenger Bag
If anyone happens to be in Canal Street, NYC you pick me up a knocked-off one for around $20. I’ll take two. Ta!
The best looking man bag in the world. I refuse to buy it though until J. Lo. and her big, fat, tone-deaf arse is removed from all advertising. She is not a gay icon. Even Dicko is more of a gay icon than she is. Until that day, it remains painfully out of reach.
BMW K1200S Motorbike
Hot Machinery and Head-to-Leather Never went together sooo well
This is a piece of hot shit. It’s fast, it’s sexy and Beamers are as gay as they come, especially in Motorad mode. The main barrier to getting one of these, is the fact I can’t ride a motorbike. That is a more gay, than owning one of these bikes. Shame!
Sheraton Mirage Port Douglas
Sun Loungers Set Up For Evening Buffet-n-Bumathon
I LOVE THIS PLACE! I know you can’t move for gays and Americans here but it is still paradise and 30C pretty much all the time. This is THE place to detox. If you want to know which Aussie stars are recovering from addiction, just come here…or the Grand Hyatt at Coolum. The main problem here though is time. You need at least 3 days away and who has three days spare…who? WHO?!?!?!?
