Through the Bagel Hole - Part II
Jul. 27th, 2007 11:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeBRIGHTON - 22nd JULY
This edition of Through the Bagel Hole is brought to you by LJ Cut.
Do you write endless reams of pap mascquarding as a journal entry?
Do you not want to piss off your friends by making them scroll through endless pages of drivel to reach other people's entries?
Are you just naturally shy and don't want people reading about your day-to-day activites?
Then use LJ Cut (or perhaps the delete key) - for that healthier, fat-free alternative...
This edition of Through the Bagel Hole is brought to you by LJ Cut.
Do you write endless reams of pap mascquarding as a journal entry?
Do you not want to piss off your friends by making them scroll through endless pages of drivel to reach other people's entries?
Are you just naturally shy and don't want people reading about your day-to-day activites?
Then use LJ Cut (or perhaps the delete key) - for that healthier, fat-free alternative...
So where was I before I got interrupted? Ah yes Saturday night in an overpriced generic bar sipping on melted ice cream cocktails awaiting the meeting where I would introduce Wolfie to my ex. Are you sitting comfortably children? Then we'll begin...
My ex had told me she was bringing two gay friends of hers (who were also a couple) to meet us too. These friends had wanted me to go to Brighton Gay Pride on 4th August but alas I can't get down there that weekend so Karishma thought it would be a great idea if I met them in Central London.
Beyond being gay I don't really see what else we were to have in common so by a similar logic I think I now need to meet the other 9.9999% of the British population who are gay so I don't appear to be rude. By the by, as she came in shrouded by two of the unlikeliest looking bouncers in the world my stomach was flipping something terrible. It could have been the alcohol, it was probably nerves although I accept the cheese and onion crisps we had been eaten earlier in the day had tasted a little dodgy.
Introductions were made and everything went surprisingly well.mattsqu and rosethornn had to leave pretty soon after to catch their last train home so in the end it was just the five of us - two gay couples and my ex. This wasn't a difficult combination of people - nothing could go wrong my mind was screaming at me. But actually nothing did.
After a few drinks we were all invited back to Karishma's flat (which was fortunate really considering that Wolfie and I would be spending the night there) and we spent most of the time drinking the delicious orange cocktails that she had prepared for us. We also talked a lot about nothing in particular, with all being particularly interested to learn what fur was all about. Which was kinda sweet but somewhat unexpected as I thought these guys would know. Alas not. As the night wore on, so did our tiredness so as the guys left to go to Barcode, Karishma, Wolfie and myself decided to turn in and get some sleep. We had a big day planned for the morrow.
Sunday
There's always something romantic about walking around your local Tesco's at 11 o'clock on a Sunday morning with your partner. We needed cheese you see (you can never have enough good cheese I find) so we decided to, erm, go and buy some (cheddar and some goregously creamy Boursin. Yum!). We also bought some bread and milk and Wolfie took out a mortgage to buy a pre-packed sandwich. Can you see how exciting this trip was? Precisely. I could hardly contain myself. I nearly wet myself twice although you'll be pleased to know I got back home just in time. With cheese and bread intact too. Go me!
A quick breakfast and Wolfie and Karishma ganging up on me later (oh yes folks, am I just the perennial bitchboy or something? *sob*) we decided that as the weather was half-decent we would risk going to Brighton as we had planned.
So after an altercation with the ticket machine that charged a whopping £1.80 more than if you bought the ticket from the nasty servey type man at the ticket desk, we boarded the god-awful liveried (I mean blue, yellow and red makes it look like someone's puked up all over it - either that or it looks like a train from Toyland. I half expected Noddy to come out with Big Ears (that's the character rather than as a result of some sadomasochistic aural stretching incident)) Southwest train bound for Clapham Common.
Now not being a Tory with a dodgy sex life we didn't feel the need to go dogging or to recklessly display our genitals here (largely because we were at the station and it would just be rude goddammit) so we decided to be civil and pay over the odds for some bottled water. I had a headache so was in no real mood anyway. So we decided just to get on the train to Brighton.
The train was largely uneventful beyond the prim and proper woman sat opposite us who had problems with me wearing a dog collar and us being obscene in voices that in hindsight WERE PROBABLY TOO LOUD. But enough about my ex (hehe - only kidding).
We got off at a rather sunny Brighton and made our way to the Pleasure Beach. Now this phrase has always been somewhat of an anachronism for me although that may have more to do with my sick and twisted mind slewing the meaning of it. But to me rides, cheap plastic tat and felch me quick hats are about as far from pleasure as I could possibly imagine. It's what I would imagine grating your genitals on a cheese grater would be like. Or perhaps going to a Michael Ball concert.
I rarely have Mr Whippy ice-cream as I rarely go to the beach so I took the opportunity to have two in one day whilst in Brighton. I had hoped that it would be served to me by some buxom dominatrix type person who venemously flicked the Flake into the gooey morrass on top of the cone, thus simultaneously flicking ice cream all down my shirt. She would then get me to lick it up contortion style. Alas I got a Polish lady called Elena. But she seemed quite nice so I can't complain. Would've been better with a whip though. Wolfie and Karishma meanwhile shared a portion of chips and tomato ketchup which prompted blew all over me. Now if only Elena had asked me to lick away the sauce...
We then decided to catch some rays on the beach - by which I mean sunbathe and not snaring people called Ray using oversized butterfly nets. Or at least I tried to sunbathe but Wolfie and Karishma delighted in putting pebbles down my pants, making my bathe a somewhat uncomfortable one. We marvelled at the gauze-like walkway they had laid down on the beach to stop you sinking your high heels into the pebbles (very useful I am sure you agree) and we all just relaxed like the salty sea dogs we were. We were also laid close to the sea so we also got a bit of spray splashing into our faces every now and again until our shoes started feeling soggy so we decided to move. I meanwhile spent most of the time fixated by the voice of an American woman who kept repeating in a Southern drawl to her kids that it was wrong to throw stones at people. Sheesh, today stones, by the age of 6 a gun. What is the world coming to?
Another thing that struck me was the number of openly gay people there were down there. I know Brighton's the gay capital of Britain but for a guy coming from Middlesbrough it was refreshing to see that people felt comfortable enough there to show their affections in such a way. This was also demonstrated by the carnival parade that was traversing the beach - with many people dressed up in wonderful costumes all dancing to a hypnotic drumming beat. It reminded me of June when I was fox fursuited up in such a parade at Batley's Carnival for Life. Of Sunday's Brighton parade I particularly liked the butterfly costumes. I think the parade was for a specific organisation (but sadly I never did find out which one) and a whole melting pot of people were involved in a line that stretched literally half a mile down the beach. Great fun!
Knowing thatmattsqu and rosethornn lived nearby we had invited them down for the day and at around 4pm we hooked up with them for another ice cream and a trip to some very smelly public toilets. At least we loitered outside them whilst people paid 20p for the privelege of being knocked out by toxic fumes. We then went into Brighton to go exploring. Conclusion: it's a lovely city but one that's quite dead that late on a Sunday afternoon.
We stopped off in a vegetarian cafe because Karishma fancied some tea before we tried to find a place to eat. After a little debate we eventually settled on a tapas bar down a little alley way. This proved to be a good choice. The food was top quality and the portions were far bigger than in any tapas bar I have ever been to. This meant that the meal was excellent value for money and it was enjoyed by all. I even tried a little bit of Spanish and it surprised me when people understood. Scary!
With the only sunny day this summer drawing to a close (hey I admit we got lucky) we made our farewells at the foot of the pier. Karishma, Wolfie and myself still had a little time to kill before our 8 o'clock train however so we decided to check out the gaudiness of the pier. I must admit that I found its tackiness reassuring for some reason, like a blast from the past to some halcyon day when life was much more simple and rewarding. It was the noise of the slot machine that woke me from this unlikely daydream - hey life may be more stressful now but at least I am unlikely to catch typhoid or be allowed to send my kids up chimneys in order for them to be cleaned.
We wandered around the pier for a few minutes marvelling at how big the place was - a testiment to poor taste and tourist tat. We wondered if we should get some lobster but then I realised I was a vegetarian. Equally we were going to get our picture taken in one of those board things that you put your head in to complete the image but it reminded me too much of cottaging for me to be comfortable with. Plus it was already in use anyway. We also contemplated getting some donuts or another ice cream but our stomachs were groaning as much as the pier was. It was only looking over at Brighton's second pier, that was destroyed by fire and is slowly dropping off into the sea, that I thought it may be a good idea to get off this one. Just in case. So we made a swift retreat.
Beyond being gay I don't really see what else we were to have in common so by a similar logic I think I now need to meet the other 9.9999% of the British population who are gay so I don't appear to be rude. By the by, as she came in shrouded by two of the unlikeliest looking bouncers in the world my stomach was flipping something terrible. It could have been the alcohol, it was probably nerves although I accept the cheese and onion crisps we had been eaten earlier in the day had tasted a little dodgy.
Introductions were made and everything went surprisingly well.
mattsqu and rosethornn had to leave pretty soon after to catch their last train home so in the end it was just the five of us - two gay couples and my ex. This wasn't a difficult combination of people - nothing could go wrong my mind was screaming at me. But actually nothing did.After a few drinks we were all invited back to Karishma's flat (which was fortunate really considering that Wolfie and I would be spending the night there) and we spent most of the time drinking the delicious orange cocktails that she had prepared for us. We also talked a lot about nothing in particular, with all being particularly interested to learn what fur was all about. Which was kinda sweet but somewhat unexpected as I thought these guys would know. Alas not. As the night wore on, so did our tiredness so as the guys left to go to Barcode, Karishma, Wolfie and myself decided to turn in and get some sleep. We had a big day planned for the morrow.
Sunday
There's always something romantic about walking around your local Tesco's at 11 o'clock on a Sunday morning with your partner. We needed cheese you see (you can never have enough good cheese I find) so we decided to, erm, go and buy some (cheddar and some goregously creamy Boursin. Yum!). We also bought some bread and milk and Wolfie took out a mortgage to buy a pre-packed sandwich. Can you see how exciting this trip was? Precisely. I could hardly contain myself. I nearly wet myself twice although you'll be pleased to know I got back home just in time. With cheese and bread intact too. Go me!
A quick breakfast and Wolfie and Karishma ganging up on me later (oh yes folks, am I just the perennial bitchboy or something? *sob*) we decided that as the weather was half-decent we would risk going to Brighton as we had planned.
So after an altercation with the ticket machine that charged a whopping £1.80 more than if you bought the ticket from the nasty servey type man at the ticket desk, we boarded the god-awful liveried (I mean blue, yellow and red makes it look like someone's puked up all over it - either that or it looks like a train from Toyland. I half expected Noddy to come out with Big Ears (that's the character rather than as a result of some sadomasochistic aural stretching incident)) Southwest train bound for Clapham Common.
Now not being a Tory with a dodgy sex life we didn't feel the need to go dogging or to recklessly display our genitals here (largely because we were at the station and it would just be rude goddammit) so we decided to be civil and pay over the odds for some bottled water. I had a headache so was in no real mood anyway. So we decided just to get on the train to Brighton.
The train was largely uneventful beyond the prim and proper woman sat opposite us who had problems with me wearing a dog collar and us being obscene in voices that in hindsight WERE PROBABLY TOO LOUD. But enough about my ex (hehe - only kidding).
We got off at a rather sunny Brighton and made our way to the Pleasure Beach. Now this phrase has always been somewhat of an anachronism for me although that may have more to do with my sick and twisted mind slewing the meaning of it. But to me rides, cheap plastic tat and felch me quick hats are about as far from pleasure as I could possibly imagine. It's what I would imagine grating your genitals on a cheese grater would be like. Or perhaps going to a Michael Ball concert.
I rarely have Mr Whippy ice-cream as I rarely go to the beach so I took the opportunity to have two in one day whilst in Brighton. I had hoped that it would be served to me by some buxom dominatrix type person who venemously flicked the Flake into the gooey morrass on top of the cone, thus simultaneously flicking ice cream all down my shirt. She would then get me to lick it up contortion style. Alas I got a Polish lady called Elena. But she seemed quite nice so I can't complain. Would've been better with a whip though. Wolfie and Karishma meanwhile shared a portion of chips and tomato ketchup which prompted blew all over me. Now if only Elena had asked me to lick away the sauce...
We then decided to catch some rays on the beach - by which I mean sunbathe and not snaring people called Ray using oversized butterfly nets. Or at least I tried to sunbathe but Wolfie and Karishma delighted in putting pebbles down my pants, making my bathe a somewhat uncomfortable one. We marvelled at the gauze-like walkway they had laid down on the beach to stop you sinking your high heels into the pebbles (very useful I am sure you agree) and we all just relaxed like the salty sea dogs we were. We were also laid close to the sea so we also got a bit of spray splashing into our faces every now and again until our shoes started feeling soggy so we decided to move. I meanwhile spent most of the time fixated by the voice of an American woman who kept repeating in a Southern drawl to her kids that it was wrong to throw stones at people. Sheesh, today stones, by the age of 6 a gun. What is the world coming to?
Another thing that struck me was the number of openly gay people there were down there. I know Brighton's the gay capital of Britain but for a guy coming from Middlesbrough it was refreshing to see that people felt comfortable enough there to show their affections in such a way. This was also demonstrated by the carnival parade that was traversing the beach - with many people dressed up in wonderful costumes all dancing to a hypnotic drumming beat. It reminded me of June when I was fox fursuited up in such a parade at Batley's Carnival for Life. Of Sunday's Brighton parade I particularly liked the butterfly costumes. I think the parade was for a specific organisation (but sadly I never did find out which one) and a whole melting pot of people were involved in a line that stretched literally half a mile down the beach. Great fun!
Knowing that
mattsqu and rosethornn lived nearby we had invited them down for the day and at around 4pm we hooked up with them for another ice cream and a trip to some very smelly public toilets. At least we loitered outside them whilst people paid 20p for the privelege of being knocked out by toxic fumes. We then went into Brighton to go exploring. Conclusion: it's a lovely city but one that's quite dead that late on a Sunday afternoon. We stopped off in a vegetarian cafe because Karishma fancied some tea before we tried to find a place to eat. After a little debate we eventually settled on a tapas bar down a little alley way. This proved to be a good choice. The food was top quality and the portions were far bigger than in any tapas bar I have ever been to. This meant that the meal was excellent value for money and it was enjoyed by all. I even tried a little bit of Spanish and it surprised me when people understood. Scary!
With the only sunny day this summer drawing to a close (hey I admit we got lucky) we made our farewells at the foot of the pier. Karishma, Wolfie and myself still had a little time to kill before our 8 o'clock train however so we decided to check out the gaudiness of the pier. I must admit that I found its tackiness reassuring for some reason, like a blast from the past to some halcyon day when life was much more simple and rewarding. It was the noise of the slot machine that woke me from this unlikely daydream - hey life may be more stressful now but at least I am unlikely to catch typhoid or be allowed to send my kids up chimneys in order for them to be cleaned.
We wandered around the pier for a few minutes marvelling at how big the place was - a testiment to poor taste and tourist tat. We wondered if we should get some lobster but then I realised I was a vegetarian. Equally we were going to get our picture taken in one of those board things that you put your head in to complete the image but it reminded me too much of cottaging for me to be comfortable with. Plus it was already in use anyway. We also contemplated getting some donuts or another ice cream but our stomachs were groaning as much as the pier was. It was only looking over at Brighton's second pier, that was destroyed by fire and is slowly dropping off into the sea, that I thought it may be a good idea to get off this one. Just in case. So we made a swift retreat.
After that (and to the sound of much whimpering) we pulled it out and cleaned up the mess, which admittedly took quite a long time. Then we pretty much headed home, back to Karishma's to grab our bags and then off to our hotel to check-in. Wolfie and I still had three more days left of our holiday and we were to have them pretty much on our own.
To find out what happened, tune in later for Through the Bagel Hole - Part III...
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-27 09:19 pm (UTC)You don't need to send your own children up chimneys anymore, If you search on Ebay long enough you can usually get half a dozen for £100. All you need to do is collect them from the airport.
Wait the board was in use by tourists having there photo taken, or used by cottagers?
no subject
Date: 2007-07-27 09:32 pm (UTC)Hmm Ebay sell children now? I know they've sold vaginal and anal specula, three used glass eyes, a brussel sprout (a Christmas one no less) and a used Tesco carrier bag so it really wouldn't surprise me. But I'm sure there are laws against selling children as chimney sweeps - I think it phased out sometime in the Edwardian era.
No the board was being used by tourists larking about. We didn't really have time to have our pictures taken so we didn't. We had a train to catch. Not that I would've wanted a picture anyway - it's the height of tack really and the mermaid picture of which I was to become a part did little for my figure.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-27 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-27 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-28 01:31 pm (UTC)Have to wait for part 3 to find out i suppose.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 08:38 pm (UTC)