Tuesday, August 12, 2003


Only gay men could reinvent mugging as a hobby.

What other group of people could possibly think of this as fun?
- Going into some woods.
- At night.
- Alone.
- In the dark.
- Inviting a stranger to take you somewhere even more isolated?

Last night I finally went to Hampstead Heath. It has some kind of mythos in gay culture as being like a perpetual, twilight gay woodstock, only with shagging.

Nonsense. It was dark - too dark to see most people. There was no lighting. There was just the crunch of gravel, and the alarming knowledge that ugly men were glaring at me.

I can't imagine anything less liberating and fun that going to a darkroom. This was like going to a darkroom, but with nettles.

I did, eventually manage to discern a man who was probably pretty, and drag him off for a bushwank. But it wasn't terribly fulfilling really.

Frankly, if I wanted to stand around, thinking about the West Wing while getting indifferent head, I'd still be with my last boyfriend.

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