We're Here, We're Queer

I find myself becoming more and more interested in gay history. I think I might become like one of those old giffers who goes on about the war and how young people don’t realise how lucky they are. I'm sure my increasing knowledge base will just fuel my disgust with the straight acting types who refuse to display any gay pride.

I loved Bette Bourne’s appearance at Duckie on Saturday. She was talking about the days of the Gay Liberation Front and the time she lived in a drag commune. The police used to come round to hassle them, but the drag queens would just run at them screaming and the coppers would leg it in fear.

I think I’m going to go on a gay walking tour of Soho on Sunday. You get to find out about clubs in the 30s and 40s and the underground scene in the 50s.

I’ve also just ordered a mucky book from Amazon about what men used to get up to in bars and backrooms of London in the olden days.

There’s a bar in Woolwich that sounds like something from the Quentin Crisp story. You have to knock on the door to get in and the glass at the front is all smashed, but when you look in you can see fairy lights on the ceiling. It all seems horribly exciting so me and Camp Scouse are going to go. Maybe we’ll have to duck down when people walk by…

“Did anyone see you come in here? Make sure no-one sees you leave.”