The End is Nigh

No blogs. Nothing happening. Nothing to say. I guess it must be January then. BORE.RING.

I’ve even got bored of watching telly now. The Celebrity Big Brother outcome was a letdown, Coronation Street hasn’t moved on since I left it two years ago ... the only salvation is Undercover Princes. Have you seen it?

They’ve got three over-privileged members of Asian and African royalty and brought them to Brighton to find love. One of them’s gay, one is homophobic and the other’s a bit of a wet lettuce. None of them are particularly likeable but the gay guy’s very funny. I was a little distressed when he thought he might be turning bi last week, but the sight of him watching lesbian porn while clutching his groin and moaning “Oh my God, I am getting full erection”, was, whilst very disturbing, worth the lack of queer integrity.

There were also the faces of stone on the other two while the gayer was upstairs *with a boy* having a bit of noisy but very vanilla hanky panky. They were pretending they were worried about his reputation and the feelings of his subjects, but you know they were just peeved because they have got NOWHERE with the lovely ladies of Brighton - and no wonder really, they’re completely clueless.

Meanwhile, in REAL LIFE, there has been one light at the end of the January tunnel – my stunning appearance at last week’s Polari. I had been asked to go and talk about tranny stalking, and proffer dog-eared old copies of Tranny Hag, in the middle slot between two proper authors who’ve done books and stuff.

I was a little nervous by the time the day came, but I was only on for a few minutes so wasn’t too bothered. Paul Burston insisted on introducing me as “a lesbian” which gave me the red mists, but proved to be a good opener - I stormed to the mike and declared, “Actually I’m queer, not lesbian, and don’t make that mistake again Mr Burston.” The faces of the crowd were a picture – those laughing and those wondering who the insane militant freak was.

Anyway, I quacked on about Pete Burns and Justin, got a few laughs so I think it was OK. Rupert Smith told me afterwards, “Everyone thinks you’re really weird now”, so that felt like business as normal. He could have had a point because although lots of people took free copies of my magazine and sat reading them, not a soul attempted to talk to me. Ha ha.

This week’s looking lively - I’m working with Ophelia Bitz tomorrow, going filming with David Hoyle on Wednesday and then, OH YES ... come along to the Peter Tatchell Fundraiser Event at Phoenix Theatre Bar on Wednesday evening. I’m not DJing or anything so you’re spared that, I’m just helping out, but there’s a great line-up including David, Miss Kimberley, Dickie Beau and Bearlesque, and it’s all for a very good cause so you’d be a tit to miss it.

Thursday I’m seeing Eagles of Death Metal at Soho Review Bar and then it’s Leee Black Childers at the Southbank Centre on Friday. Hurrah – the return of civilisation.