Lunchtime drinking!

Drinking at lunchtime, it's kinda fatal really isn't it? OK, so its the weekend, which makes it an exception, but it's still rather naughty. I woke at 10am, after a late night cam to cam wank with a supposedly straight - bi curious boy I met on one of those dating come chat sites that are everywhere on the net. It was quite regarding, well as much as cam sex can possibly be, marginally better than a solo wank, but nowhere near as good as some proper sex, mind you the last proper sex I had ended up with a dose of the sideways walking visitors infesting my lower portions! At least cam 2 cam sex, doesn't put you at risk of sexually transmitted infections, no mater how solitary it is.

I'm not really convinced with all this bisexuality and bi-curious business, which seems to be all the rage these days, it appears that around 70% of boys these days are saying their either bisexual or a little bit bi-curious, apparently it's modern and thus trendy and thus popular. I guess I shouldn't complain really after all it means there more boys in the playground for me to play with. Last night, or rather early this morning was exactly the case, a straight boy, who said he was bi or actually bi-curious as he'd never done anything with a male before, wanted to get off with a guy while his girlfriend was having a girls night out. The fact that we contacted each other via a 'gay' chat/dating site is neither here or there, I'm trying not to make judgements like he's so far in the closet he needs GPS and a rope ladder to get out, or that he's in denial about his true feelings and inclinations, or why be with a woman when you know you'd rather be with a man, why drink from the furry cup in the lady garden when you'd rather chow down on the man meat in the lad of the one eyed trouser snake? Nope I keep all that to myself and just marvel at the 20cm's of solid pinkness before my eyes and think of all the places I'd rather that be!

I stayed bed for as late as I dared, which happened to be at till the big hand reached twelve and the little hand reached eleven and then I had the three S's and trundled my way down to the pier entrance. That was the prearranged meeting point for me, Angus and James for our lunch time rendezvous. James is down for the weekend from Braveheartland, so it was high time for a catch up, nosh up and see the young fella again. He was a fashionable fifteen minutes late which was rather gratifying, as for once I was not the last to arrive, which I do have to hold my hand up and and honestly say is my usual want.

The three of us walked through town and up to Donatello's in the lanes, the sun shone brightly as we made our way there while James recounted his nightmarish flight down from Glasgow. Once settled in upstairs, we started to catch up and gas about previous encounters, intervening news and updates on out lives, which was nice and refreshing and good to hear. James informed us of his new found ambition to be a masseuses, Angus regaled his diving holiday whilst I told of my most recent encounter and resulting livestock collection. It was a pure delight to be in such company as we enjoyed a rather large nosh up, which I have to say was pretty darn good. Oh I do have one major confession, it may only have been a little after midday, but my first drink of the day was a pina collada, I know how gay is that? But what the hell, it's the weekend and anyway, I'm a night worker, so it may have been just after noon for some, for me it was the equivalent of passed midnight, that's my excuse and I'm not deviating from it. (James giving the waiter the eye)

After the food was munched we chewed the fat over a coffee, I had an Irish one, Angus had a regular black one and James actually had a desert. Actually, I tel a little porkie pie there, I had two Irish Coffee's and I learnt something which struck me as rather odd and unexpected then, there I was with two strapping Scott's from Scotland, the home of whiskey, yet neither one of them liked the stuff. Is that odd? Or am I just bathing in stereotypical notions that all Scottish people like the spirit, or that Iron-Bru is made from iron girders or they all have haggis for breakfast!

Then we did something I would never have done, had it not been for James' presence, I went into Churchill Square on a Saturday! A busy shopping mall on the weekend is my idea of abject hell on earth, yet inside we went, James bagged himself a bag and it was soon that we left the vast collection of the great unwashed and headed for the sanity of a local purveyor of beverages of an alcoholic nature. Dr Brighton's proved to be the welcome oasis from the windy front and I had a pint. That's when I started to feel a lil tinsy bit tipsy, it's strange how a lunch time tipple seems to effect you far more than it would at night.

Four hours after we met, we bid our farewells and headed in our own directions, Angus homeward bound, me homeward bound and to an evening with Jakey and James to his friend Ian.

It may be fourteen years since the end of apartheid, but racism still remains pretty explosive in South Africa. There's been demonstrations around the country after a video came to light of four white students at the University of the Free State, which shows them urinating in food which they then feed to group of black women in a "fear factor" style contest. The women are apparently unaware that the stew, which they are encouraged to eat on their hands and knees, has been pissed in, They are also filmed taking part in a drinking contest and a running race, while the students laugh at them and insult them in Afrikaans. It's a sad fact of life that racial equality exists in South Africa, but only by name, reality tells a different story. I know this next statement may age me, but when I read this story, I could not shake the lyrics from an old Spitting Image song from my mind, the title of the song - "I've never met a nice South African" It dates from the 80's and was featured on that crazy puppet show that took the piss out of anyone and anything. The track I seem to remember was on a the other side (yes that's in the days when records were records and they had an A and B side!) of 'The Chicken Song, which got to number one in 1986! I remember singing it at school, along with all my mates, they both were tracks of the moment, but mind you, back then I had no idea what apartheid was and racism, well that was something you did after sprinting the 500 yard dash!

David, not the one from work, the other one that was going out with a drag queen has finally coincided that the relationship with that old trout has come ti it's final resting place, in the gutter. David, a really sweet guy, has now moved out and in with a friend's spare room over in Bevendean, saw his ex out and about in the vicinity of The Queens Arms, or the Council Arms as I like to refer to it. It's one of the gay places in Brighton where the carpet glows more than the lights and you'll see enough sovereign rings to last a lifetime. Anyway, the snide, sarcastic and pig ugly drag queen aimed some very vicious barbs at our David and his friend, which was totally uncalled for, indeed up until now, their split has been fairly amicably as much as anything involving a arrogant, egotistical, drama queen could be. However, David had the last laugh when his rather bloated ex, fell flat on her/his/it's face in full view of the whole pub, David has no idea how that umbrella came to be in such a position as that poor excuse for a human just happen to be walking past!