April 29th - May 5th 2002
Sunday Petfood
Saturday Dogs, and cows
Friday Init
Thursday Maybe
Wednesday Celebrate
Tuesday -
Monday Honestly
Sunday 5th May 2002
So is anybody else planning to go to the special Bank Holiday edition of Sleaze tonight?
If so, you might want to bear in mind something I picked up from a story about the latest oh-so-controversial cinema ad from Club 18-30.
The poodles, sheepdogs and (yes) Afghan hounds that feature in it did not drop their usual doggie-style sexual activity in favour of imitating humans without considerable aid and encouragement, it seems.
Up to and including the use of "strategically placed pet food."
Something to bear in mind.
As is the news that the Indian Army is fitting its front-line troops with inflatable penile implants in a bid to boost army morale; a story that at least one sub headlined as Indian Army uses implants to stiffen morale.
(For those of you who were wondering: the pump is tucked inside the testicles. Logically enough.)
Which in turn reminds me of my proudest achievement in recent months, in relation to a story about ex-Bond-girl Honor Blackman's upcoming appearance in The Vagina Monologues, a story which I managed to headline: Pussy Galore in Vagina show.
Badabing.
Saturday 4th May 2002
The row about the Korean taste for dog-meat rolls on, with news that the country's National Dog Meat Restaurants Association will be offering dog meat tonic juice to thirsty World Cup fans.
That's South Korea, of course. They do things differently in North Korea, where Dear Leader Kim Jong-Il prefers to dine on heavenly cow. Otherwise known as donkey.
Sorry, I didn't mean to give you sleepless nights.
But if did, check out your local Waitrose for Slumber Bedtime Milk painlessly procured for insomniacs from cows at night, when their melatonin peaks.
Friday 3rd May 2002
It's not so much that Charles Philip Arthur George has crazy ideas; it's more that everything he says is tinged by his own bizarre situation as a late-blooming underemployed.. scion.
Take his latest wizard wheeze, for example: the suggestion that what today's troubled teens need most is initiation ceremonies.
He knows of what he speaks, of course. Caernarfon Castle? July 1, 1969? Anybody?
No doubt he still bears the scars.
Thursday 2nd May 2002
I can't speak for other Londoners, but May Day Riots are rapidly joining the London Marathon as events that I never witness as such, yet whose aftermath always somehow impinges, usually when I'm off in search of debauch.
En route for a mid-evening drink with The Dane last night, I was slightly surprised to find all trains running, no Tube stations closed. A peaceful protest then, presumably.
A text message - "soho closed, call soonest" - soon disabused me of that notion, as did the sight of platoons of riot-suited policemen, clustered like beetle-spawn at every Soho junction, all the way from Piccadilly Circus up to Oxford Street.
Having arranged to meet at The Edge, I was more than a little disconcerted to find Soho Street sealed at both ends. But when I approached the barrier of nose-to-tailed police-vans and politely explained my intention of imbibing at the indicated hostelry I was ushered straight through with a cheery "You go straight ahead, sir."
Hmmm.
And so it was that we sat and drank and watched a dozen or so cheerful coppers exchanging jokes with passing pedestrians for an hour or so. (At one stage they even took a break to consume take-away pizza, offering the last slice to a passing derelict.) I guess they've had the image consultants in since last year.
Moving on to Bar Code around 1030, we passed through Soho with no constraint, though there were still plenty of policemen in evidence, and several bars were firmly shut.
Talking to Neil from Comptons, it transpired there'd been a ruck around 9 o'clock, pretty much right outside his door at the junction of Dean Street and Old Compton Street. Understandably enough, he took the police's advice to close the bar to heart and the rest of the night off.
The evening was otherwise enlivened by bumping into not one, but two, of the presenters from Monday night's controversial C4 documentary The Truth About Gay Sex (which personally I quite enjoyed though, as ever, with mixed feelings about how Puzzled of Tunbridge Wells would take the intimate details of fisting, glory holes and - one for Andy - speculums. (Speculi?) Like Jonathan I was also a bit alarmed to discover how many of the presenters I recognised.)
And then on to, where else, The White Swan. And then, where else, home.
Happy May Day everybody.
Wednesday 1st May 2002
More about this Sunday's birthday celebrations:
The onset of the festivities was signalled by a brass band playing the national anthem as a birthday cake in the shape of a flower, topped with pineapple and pink icing, was wheeled into the arena.
Radio and television were swamped with non-stop renditions of Happy Birthday and congratulatory messages, preceding a personal appearance by the birthday boy, who has otherwise modestly remained behind the scenes.
Loudspeakers played songs of praise as more than 100,000 citizens paraded through the streets and three-hundred couples gathered for a mass wedding. Up to £90 per person was distributed to citizens who share the great man's birthday.
Later in the day, the nation's cultural elite gathered at the National Theatre for a dramatic spectacular adapted from the leader's novel ("with frank sexual passages") and the celebrations culminated with a massive firework display as 3,500 invited guests gathered for a lavish party.
Earlier in the week, the people of Nineveh presented an enigmatic gift as an expression of the people's love and loyalty. affirming their eternal loyalty to him as a leader, father, brother, comrade and loyal defender of dignity, rights and life in the past, present and future.
I don't think it's a cake. Maybe it's the new PlayStation?
Monday 29th April 2002
Honestly, it was so you I had to keep looking down to the end of it to make sure you hadn't written it.
- said Jonathan to me, about this article on obituaries, as we stood drinking in Marcus's kitchen at David's birthday party.
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