No one can predict quite what they'll be famous for. I was startled to discover that I have been promoting a sportswear fetish night.
Yeah. I know. Look, I went along for a laugh. There was a camera. I was too busy helping a drunken drag queen perform karaoke in Chelsea strip to remember the details.
But how cool to turn up again and have the doorman recognise me. I have always wanted to walk into a club and have people say, "Hey, it's the cute guy from the magazine." I just never thought it would be a room full of footballers. But, hey, let's not grumble.
The best thing was it gave me a chance to talk to the cute Italian twins - not only do they look alike, they dress in identical Italian kit. Actually, one's Cypriot and the other's from Poland, and is called Volshag. Brilliant.
One of the pleasures of being gay are the rare moments of unlikely wonder. Like being sat in a cellar on a Sunday night, waering a tracksuit that says "Canada Roots", watching a video of naked football, whilst sharing a cigarette with a beautiful Polish microbiologist.
2 comments:
You are right - gays do generate random fabulous in a way heteros fail to somehow. My sister in law was given away at her wedding by her gay surrogate dad (v long story) and my best wedding memory is my elderly mum, being simultaneously charmed by him and boggling at his collection of gay erotic art...marvelous!
oh! gay erotic art. Are we talking those strange portraits of grecian youths disporting themselves? They all appear to be drawn like the Aha Video, and have the haircuts of barber-shop models.
Then there are those statues - the ones of David, but with an enormous dong.
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