27 October 2009

Bliss

Another wonderful weekend in that little Tuscan hideout, despite the best efforts of Ryanair to wreck it (they hadn't reckoned on FKJ, who, on news of cancellations, swung into action with a wrath that can only be described as Valkyrian).

There is little to report.


We sat around the table drinking wine, eating wholesome winter hotpots and having mildly salacious discussions (the length of the average woman's, er, internal bits, the mating habits of attractive youngsters, how to have gay phone sex whilst evading the Singaporean morality police, fisting for beginners...)


We transferred ourselves to the sitting room and lit the fire, sporting leisure wear.

We parked ourselves on the sofa and got out the blankets.

We sat for hours, transfixed by the antics of teenage Americans, joining in showtune hits with gusto.

We cheered at a refreshing Sunday morning Nevada lesbian romp.


We resolved to buy pyjamas for those who do not already own them.

We went home, rejuvenated and resolved to do it all again, very soon.

The End.

01 October 2009

Gay's the Word


Almost twenty years ago, on a school trip to London, my teenage self stumbled into my first gay bookshop, blushing furiously as I bought a copy of Jeanette Winterson’s Oranges are Not the Only Fruit.

Today I went in to say thanks for putting my book in their window display. The nice man behind the desk gave me a big smile and got me to sign a stack of copies.


This was a good day.