archive for November, 2003

w.w.e.b.d.

my life has been recently, is currently, and—for the next 48 daze days daze—will be nothing more than loud house music, witty friends, cute acquaintences, sexy boys, all following from house party to friendly society to two-clubs-a-night to afterhours to posh penthouses to disco naps, the whole time eric with cocktail glass in hand and cute boys in tow. so it has been decided.

highlights from last night include: meeting up with darian [again, yay!], .gregiño and marky at friendly society [again, yay!], where greg and i subtly, dastardly convinced swedish jacob and chris that we were dating. subtle hand-holding, semi-hidden kisses, knowing glances back-and-forth. jacob and chris were friends for years, then enemies, and now they’re… dating?! silly gay boys. swam over to .heaven with mark, where we started fights in the vip, one of us [aherm] went shirtless on the main floor [scarlet!, as mike might say], i had a decent, shmooze-free conversation with heaven paul, and, [censored]

i got that boom boom, that you want


hurry up before it’s gone

thursday i had a long sushi lunch with atif followed by a long café lunch with simon the biter. atif was my first boyfriend in london, and is now one of my closest dearest most-trusted friends. it’s nice to share such closeness with him, after a few months of dating and a few months of hating.

simon [the gareth gates lookalike] i had dated about a year ago, and we’ve been struggling to salvage some sort of friendship ever since. i’m still incredibly attracted to him [as is pretty much everyone who ever meets him, including every club owner in london, always asking me erm, eric, is that simon friend of yours coming out tonight?] there’s still a significant spark there, definitely, but we both know that it’s not meant to be. although, by the end of the meal he insisted we meet again soon, and i insisted [to myself] that the lad’s grown up a bit in the past year.

after work, i met up with mark and andrew for some fun in town before hitting discotec. champagne, hip-hop, funky house and lots of dancing with cute dark spanish/italian/brazilian boys. ran into french sid, again… [censored]

after three months of corporate webwhoring and magazine traumas, i’ve earned myself a break. i’m giving myself a break until mid-january. it’s not a holiday, it’s not unemployment, it’s not a sabattical—i’m calling it a 50-day weekend. oh, and it feels so fucking good. previously working for the mag over the past two years has spoiled me… sleeping till noon, working from home, clubbing every night. i like that lifestyle—it suits me to work my ass off in the afternoons & evenings, and then play with the other vampires until the drugs sun comes up.

friday was my last day of cubicles, status reports, project meetings and dhtml code. no more webwhoring for eric! the team that i’ve worked with since september have been great, although the office environment has been as dull as humanly possible. my departure was met with mediocre farewells and little fanfare. i might be back in the new year to fill my piggy bank with more cash money.

caught up with .gregiño over dinner at café emm in soho—for once, he’s recommended someplace new that doesn’t suck. every other time he’s recommended oh, this great new bar or this cheap restaurant that everyone’s raving about, it has always always disappointed. we caught up on work/boys/magazine/photography/scene/travel gossip, and then eventually ran into landlord charlie and his boyf steve at friendly society. i swam into the shadow lounge for the first time in years. yes, it’s still pretentious. yes, it’s still filled with ugly wankers in ill-fitting armani suits. yes, the music & dancing feels like a bad wedding reception.

at .popstarz, i ran into irish lee, who was looking as fine as ever. i think he was on a date, so i only tried to seduce him like 5 times.

around 1am, i see this lad grooving to a white stripes remix in the main room. [censored]

massachusetts

massachusetts, in two parts.

part one—plymouth, massachusetts
[eric's entirely incorrect history of thanksgiving]

thanksgiving is a overly-soppy faux-nostalgic american holiday which didn’t really exist until the 1800’s, when abraham lincoln decided americans needed a four-day holiday in november.

in, like, the 1600s, some pilgrim lads escaped the religious persecution [and crazy 17.5% vat taxation] of england to settle in the new world—america. they arrived onto what would later become plymouth, massachusetts, and brought their communicable diseases and anglo-centric racism along with strange square-buckle shoes and [even then] a posh yet pretentiously strange accent.

these pilgrims were having big trouble surviving. there were no pubs, no chippies, no kebab shops. luckily, some locals [natives! they called them] came round and taught the pilgrims how to grow crops, use fertilizer and navigate the mcdonalds drive-thru. they thanked their saviors by throwing a lame party, forcing the indians to eat their bland english cooking and look at slides from their lame trip across the atlantic.

a few years later, the pilgrims decided that north america wasn’t big enough for both cultures, and drove all of the indians out. first towards the west, then just crammed all the different tribes into preserves reservations. now the indians, still incredibly bitter about destroying their culture and heritage and murdering countless of their ancestors, slowly get theirs by setting up fashion outlet malls and casinos and pulling over speeding tourists on their reservations.

oh, right, and thanksgiving, well, is a chance for americans everywhere to gorge themselves on polysaturated snacks, different types of meat, and sit around and pretend to like one another before the holidaze really kick in. for some families it’s an important tradition. for mine it was a chance for everyone to poke fun at one another, eat entirely too much food [not just turkey and stuffing, we're talking tamales and fried chicken] and feign interest in college football.

part one—homo, massachusetts
[eric's entirely lopsided analsys of the massachusetts 'gay marriage' ruling]

last week, the massachusetts supreme court decided that the state’s law limiting marriage to opposite-gendered [don't you like that?] couples was against the state’s constitution, which ensures equal freedoms to all. they instructed the state legislature that they have six months to fix the law. the state legislature may nobly change all of the marriage statutes to allow same-gendered couples to get married. more likely, unfortunately, they will choose to create an amendment to the state constitution to limit marriage to straights only. i mean, they still do the whole punxsutawney phil groundhog day thing. fer real.

let’s assume that they allow for gay marriage in massachusetts. the united states was founded on the basis that all states must recognize each other’s laws. however, some 20 bigoted states have already pre-emptively enacted legislation in their own states, explicity recognizing only opposite-gendered marriage. assuming massachusetts agrees to expand marriage to same-gendered couples, this means that one by one each of the bigoted states laws will have to be taken up to the supreme court to be overturned.

but, currently [and this will come as no surprise] the bush administration is pushing forward the defence of marriage act which would actually create a permanent, unerasable amendment to the u.s. constitution explicitly defining marriage as between a man and a woman. obviously motivated by fear and some twisted sense of morality, the administration is pre-emptively acting to make it impossible for states to set their own legislation.

remember prohibition? what a great idea that was… and, hey, it’s still on our constitution. how embarassing for us as a country. if i hear one more person complain about the sanctity of marriage, i’ll shoot them in the head. and, written on the bullet, in reeeeeeeeally small wording will be statistics about marriage, divorce, domestic abuse, single moms and, if i have any space leftover, i’ll squeeze in passages from the bible which clarify what was really said about sodomy and the gays.

marriage, from any government’s point-of-view, is a legal institution which provides benefits to loving couples, encourages them to better society and procreate.

stuffing
i’m ashamed by my pilgrim ancesters that started raping and pillaging 400 years ago in massachusetts, but am very pleased by the pilgrims pushing for my rights and the rights of those i have yet to rape and pillage.

sumo rent boys

monday night at .heaven i hated:

  • the straight bartender at the ice bar who never ever serves me, no matter how nice i am to him.
  • the 16yo rent boys in the vip room complaining that there’s no vips there.
  • the really hot brazillian boy who dances bow-legged and has his shirt tucked in.
  • the ageing drag queen stumbling down the stairs, landing on top of me.
  • peopole whom i have to introduce myself to over, and over, and over.
  • the lad falling over drunk at 2am, who melted my heart hours early singing karaoke [well] at kudos
  • people who come up to me and say hello eric, yet i have no idea who they are.
  • the perpetually flirtatous brazilian barman who i see everywhere brighton, beyond who invites me out every weekend, only to dash my hopes.
  • the three cute 22yo lads who each left with shiny minging overweight sugardaddies.
  • watching everyone get excited when who let the dogs out came on.
  • going home alone. again. for the like 10th consecutive time. again. alone. again.
  • myself for being so damned choosy, and being some damned hateful.
  • the 30yo straight oriental cuddle puddle enveloping half the ground floor
  • the trio of spotty boys with glowsticks who kept following me around as i moshed to some white stripes
  • the severe lack of mohawked and/or tattooed and/or skater and/or interesting and/or attracitve peeps

where is the love? i’m ready. i’m ready for love. yes i am, oh yes.

lord of the rings didn’t fit on the two towers

saturday i was gratuitously late meeting up with darian… i nearly didn’t recognize him in the drizzling mist at the end of old compton street, he posing with his skateboard. he truly is a poser, in the sense that he will be posing quite often in the near future, nekkid, with various skateboards, skaters, skateramps, skatetramps and maybe the stray truck or wrench or set of bearings on the bed. poser :grin:

i’m so excited that my friends seem to all be progressing through their career adolescence—each of us adjusting and readjusting our careers, as one might readjust an uncomfortable cockring while sat down for a nice meal in a restaurant. as darian subtly groped himself under the table, we groped conversatinoally, discussing plans for the holidaze, gossiping about the newlyweds sat next to us [jacob and chris] and seducing spikey james who arrived halfway-through after drinking since noon to celebrate his promotion to superteacher. some random older couple who were sat down next us at the start of our meal apparently picked up our tab—they must’ve been convinced by haley joel osment to gay it forward.

we left balans, and i surreally found myself with innocent spikey james, shopping for cockrings. they come in small, medium and large, you see. metal, plastic, rubber. easy release, machine washable, even with hello kitty decorations [i wish!]. darian the pornstar insisted that if a small ring fit his giant ego unit, then surely one would fit each of ours as well. in the toilet at friendly society we poked, we prodded, we stretched, we pulled… i even tried lamaze breathing exercises to get ‘em on. santa take note, it would appear that both spikey james and i are mediums, thank you very much.

after .ghetto, atif and .gregiño dragged me to some scuzzy typhoidy chippy for flourescent-lit greasy goodness. sat in the booth with those two, surrounded by queues of gurning clubkids, greg launched into his hysterical and entirely politically incorrect retard routine, which had me doubled over in pain and tears streaming down my face, and i nearly choked on one my preservative-laden processed chicken meat gonads pieces nuggets.

solely to impress you, dear reader, i convinced atif to hit crash like the los angeles district attorney hits michael jackson [hee hee!] with a search warrant. and we did [shamone motherfucker!] we mostly blagged our way in [i'm getting better at this, methinks!] and made the mistake of supersizing our poppers and pillz for the evening. housey house, dancey dance, trancey trancey… muscle boys and gurning twinks and sloppy skaters and all sorts of disgustingly sexy things happing in the dark corners, cubicles and dancefloors.

got home around 9am, couldn’t sleep, so i watched my downloaded american sitcoms for the week [will & grace, the west wing, smallville] before meeting mark and his mum for a long gossip sess at all bar one. she is so incredibly cool, i love her. love. her. we were silly, we were serious, we picked on mark, i played the part of respectible friend.

oh, and, in case you were wondering, a small cockring makes for an excellent bit of seedy bling on any necklace.

my gucci bag

simple enough. look at 16 pics of boys/men/males/hunks/geezers, and decide if they’re gay or straight. i got 10 right… you? [via overyourhead].

shamone motherfucker club motherfucker he he


three girls giving, one man taking

friday i convinced flatmate mitch and qboy marcos to hop over to club motherfucker for a night of new-mod electro-trash punk-posing, culminating with our favorite san fran hoez, gravy train!!!!.

the scene at motherfucker was very peculiar—boys with skinny ties and floppy moppy parted-to-the-side ‘dos, girls wearing poodle skirts and black lipstick. it was fun to pogo around to some live bands [rather than synthesized house music], and by the time gravy train!!!! took the stage, we were sweaty and ready.

stuart had creamed his pants when he interviewed hunx for the mag, and since then i’ve been i’ve been slowly getting into their raunchy vile childish electro stylings. when they finally took the stage around midnight, it was obvious the whole band were completely pissed, knocking over keyboards, giggling into the mics and just doing that oh-too-familiar smile and swagger that eric people do when drunk.

hunx, the twinky frontman of the group, was surprisingly cute, and much more manly than i had envisioned. the band were obviously excited to be in england, and incorporated a few bush, bangers and mash and other trite transatlantic puns into their ramblings. they screamed out maybe 6 or so tunes, with everyone flopping around and screaming and their funky new dancer boy attempting to crowd surf a few times in his hotpants.

a great gig, much more about their stage presence and look than, well, actually singing/playing well. i flirted with all three bands fairly well, but after a bit of podium dancing with mitch, retreated to the friendly confines of .popstarz around 2am before heading home. alone. again.

eXTReME prOTeSTs!!

thursday afternoon, the megaphoned chants, wailing sirens, marching drums, singing, screaming and mayhem of the massive anti-bush anti-blair anti-war everywhere protests filled my waterloo office for a good three hours, as the protest march route went right past our building. the best chant was, hands down, who let the bombs out? bush! bush bush! who let the bombs out? bush! bush bush! champion.

i’m very excited that eliel, a chum and former colleague of mine, is moving to london from san fran. met up with him and his spectabulous girlfriend after work for a few pints and few glamorous cocktails at pretty-hip-for-a-straight-bar-they-even-have-a-deejay but-the-bouncer-made-me-take-off-my-so-called-sports-kit navajo joe’s in covent garden. as we slammed back frou frou raspberry caipirinhas and somehow-fruity campari drinks, we gossiped about dot-com excess, california livin’, and expatriated london life. it’s a rare treat when i meet american’s who’ve got the 360° 720° worldview of what it means to be an american living in london who knows what londoners think of americans living in london and how the world sees london and america sees the world and so on.

they’ve won membership into the very exclusive [currently only one member] eric’s american friends in london club. they’ll be getting their membership cards next week, and in the meantime i’ve instructed them to avoid any major discussions involving bush, arnold, mcdonalds/starbucks or any american teevee shows.

save-the-spooj

wednesday i dragged the adorable fluffer ian out for a dinner-cum-pseudodate. a lovely stroll along the thames, from waterloo, all along embankment and the strand, down to london bridge, then all along the dark alleys, galleries, pubs, cafes, mews down by tower bridge. a bit nippy, but the perfect path for us to share stories and get some fresh air. we’ve been moving very slowly [not necessarily towards anything in particular] in our relationship, after the manchester debacle and because he lives so far away from me.

hit .heaven with andrew and atif for 5 hours or so. 5 hours of my life which i wish i could have back, as not. a. single. interesting. thing. happened. no witty repartee, no cute boys [not even that boy you saw me snogging all night], no gossip, no debates, no catching up… just a whole lotta nothing.

isn’t dat vieeeerd?

i’ve finally posted my pics from my secret getaway to bristol a few weeks back. walking around that lovely hilly town, in the peak of colourful autjmn… sigh—it’s got me itching my travel scab again [itch itch pick pick eat yum ooh that's a keepah!] i’m thinking of some bleak day trips and short breaks around the uk, perhaps amsterdam just after new years, and it’s looking like i will max out my gay card with 100 bonus points for heading to sydney in the spring for mardi gras.




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