fetish #161… the skinhead

thursday was the start of a four-day weekend. perfect weather [no jacket required!] and everyone just in the peachiest of moods. met marky, .gregiño, atif, spikey james and flatmate mitch for drinkies and a drunken stumble over to .ghetto. was on a sort-of-date with james [who i've been seducing for about a year now] but i screwed things up by hooking up with another boy a .ghetto. i’m so classy. i lusted over suspenders boy again, and i’m damned sure he knows all about my obsession by now [ain't no coincidence that a certain l keeps steering him my way]. snogged a burly skinhead [#1] who started freaking out when i asked his name. atif and i ditched the others and begrudgingly hit .g-a-y, which was bumping and filled with the expected freaks, including another skinhead which needed a snog [#2]. i failed miserably in my quest to control my drinking, and ended up feeling incredibly hungover [again] on friday morning. disconcerting, yes.

friday enjoyed some sunshine, shopping and an excellent lunch at vinyl in camden town with .gregiño and marky. nothing’s better than [or more tiring than] some retail therapy. met up with cousin michael and his boyf and spikey james for more drinkies before heading to .popstarz. i did succeed, pretty much, in not drinking for the entire evening.

i’d like to think that it was an amazing coincidence, but i had a miserably crap time last night. perhaps i was just physically tired from the previous night, or perhaps it was something else, but as we went bar hopping and did the whole shooting-around-popstarz-like-a-pinball thang, i was just not social, not happy, not my usual self. even people who i hadn’t seen in months [like swedish jakob and brother mark] expressed their concern. i mean, yeah, i happily danced from 11-5am like i always do. and, yeah, i flirted and stalked and met people, like superman, a boy who was a dead-ringer for smallville’s star, tom welling. i even snogged another skinhead [#3] whilst ironically dancing to kylie.

but i just had too many inhibitions. i wasn’t as flirty, as funny or as easygoing as usual. got bitchy with mitch and definitely with greg on several occasions. the whole night i kept festering about he didn’t pay me for the cab or he didn’t offer me a drink, even though i bought him one or stop being such a bitch or will this stoopid boy stop following me whereas normally it’d all slide off in happy boozy silliness.

so, two fridays down, and two saturdays to go in this four-day weekend. tonight, this all-star is kicking it vip-stylee, and tomorrow will most likely be a solid 16-hour session at universe and orange. then, i think i shall never go clubbing ever ever again.

i hate my superpowers

last night, enjoying a snack with canadian mark on old compton street, i started to laugh, maniacally. sitting at the window, glancing at the parade of lads walking to-and-fro in the too-hot-for-springtime evening warmth, i got a tingling sensation, indicating that it’s going to be a very very very fun spring/summer. last summer was naughty and fun and blissful, and i was [psyeah right] relatively innocent. here we are, one year later, and i have some sort of [cliché alert] new-found confidence which i’m having trouble controlling.

mark and i enjoyed seven short food-related films under the title eat me at the london lesbian & gay film festival. i suppose each of the seven had its own charms, but i found the first one, frühstuck? [breakfast?] to be the most entertaining. a summer tale of charming cute german lad #1 falling for naughty sleazy cute german lad #2. #2 is a bastard to #1, going so far as to make out with someone else at a club, right in front of him. there’s a happy ending, but let’s just remember that #2 is a bastard for ditching #1 at a club to make out with someone else.

sitting in the front row of the cinema was cute skinny mohawked pakistani boy that toyed with me last month. our little tryst at .popstarz precisely mirrored the actions of #1 and #2 on screen. bastard! :shock:

after a smidge of culture, we strolled over to soho for a snack, and then enjoyed a few cheap ones at g-a-y bar, where i bumped into blond steve at the bar, an ex’s ex’s ex or something like that. he apparently has been to my flat to watch videos, which i guess was all the excuse he needed to snog me [helpless eric]. mark, having much better taste in men [and fashion, and pretty much everything] gave him the thumbs down, and eventually we got rid. also at g-a-y were two lads who looked incredibly hot and vaguely familiar, and the kept looking over and smiling. or perhaps they were laughing at me [oh, that eric he's just a ...]. do you see a pattern here?

getting nauseated from the cheap booze, we decided the only remedy would be some top-shelf elixirs from friendly society. love that place. the owner maria is my hero… and i’m not just saying that because she’s accrued so much blackmail information on me since i’m there every night with a different boy. she’s fab, and seemed truly upset when the clock struck 11 and the lights came on, as if it wasn’t her bar. ditched mark stopped by the edge to run into noneother than cousin michael, his boyf galam and the lovely brendan. they all disappeared to the toilets for only goodness knows what, so i popped over to .ghetto, where i insisted that popstarz simon let me pay.

normally, eric would never ever go to a club all by his lonesome. normally, that would require either a great deal of booze, or at the very least the excuse that i’d be meeting a friend there. last night was different… i’m not sure how i managed to squeeze both my ego and my confidence into that tiny club. pathetic, i know. not nearly as pathetic as my behaviour last night. spent hours chatting with this absolutely stunning lad, thomas. floppy brown hair, fierce blue eyes, and a delicious smile. we could not keep our eyes or or hands off each other, and i kept trying to steer us back to the dancefloor. well, i kept trying to steer him home, actually.

here’s the thing… we fancied each other rotten. he was gorgeous. he kept saying, i wanna go home with you but i can’t cuz i have to work early tomorrow. so i just left him. didn’t exchange numbers. didn’t say, hey, that’s fine, let’s grab some coffee tomorrow. i just left. who is this monster that i’ve become? my god i regret my actions… and not just because i’ve let this lovely lad slip away.

mmmmmm….. faggotsssssss…..

i think i have a new favorite simpsons episode.

in three gays of the condo, homer leaves his family after thinking marge never loved him, and ends up in the company of a gay couple in the gay part of springfield [home to armistead mopeds, stonewall coffee and of course smithers]. i appreciate the progressive subjects and scenes [a gay kiss, a gay club, multiple references to gay sex] and found the writers’ uses of stereotypically gay gags damn funny.

it’s great to see an american institution like the simpsons growing up reaching out just a bit. it apparently aired yesterday on u.s. television, and i’m surprised there haven’t been boycotts, general hoo-hah or protests across middle america. in other simpsons news, tony blair has recorded a few lines of dialogue to be used in an upcoming episode where the simpsons visit old blighty, titled the regina monologues [ba dum dum!]

you can get the torrent for the episode here to enjoy it on your computer.