Friday, October 7, 2011

Big Gay Weekend!

To the uninitiated, Big Gay Weekend is a fabulous series of parties and events co-ordinated as a fundraiser for the wonderful people at New Mardi Gras. Some of you may remember Sleaze Ball, well that has been replaced by a 3 day extravanganza. The Gays must be increasing in their stamina.

Before I get dirty with the party details I need to address my Manscaping issues I wrote about last week – the contradiction of the full beard needed for one function with the clippered torso required for another. I may have had the beard but it did nothing to help my fit in at gathering of Bears. Clippered my torso for dance party but because of my flabby gut there was no way my singlet was coming off. Note to self: hair is neither here nor nair.
The Sculptor (who purposely does that in photos), 3GreggyD and McDimples
So who are the key player on this Big Gay Weekend? It was a gathering of Twitterati that’s for sure. We had visiting Melbourne Gay Royalty 3GreggyD who as it seems knows more about socializing in Sydney than I do, sad but true. He’s also more connected. He planned our whole weekend god love him. Staying at Man Pit with me (Little Sammy and I make him sleep on the floor) is ex-ex-boyfriend-come-beautiful-friend The Sculptor. The three of us were a posse the whole weekend.
The Sculptor and Little Sammy
Playing very important Special Guest Appearance roles were McDimples, Lucky Paulie and Murdoch. McDimples put in some hard, fast yards over Friday and Saturday night and left me breathless with his flirting abilities. Lucky Paulie had to work over the weekend as he is changing the face of Australian television so he couldn’t misbehave. Murdoch is a new Twitter friend, he came from nowhere on Sunday and BAM! he was all over it!

As you can see from the shot above, 3GreggyD, The Sculptor and McDimples enjoy a certain crowd so they dragged Princess St. Murphy to the Oxford to kickstart BGW. Yep, still don’t fit in! It smells. It’s overcrowded. It’s a fucking nightmare to get a drink. If there hadn’t been porn playing on the TV’s I would’ve wanted to leave much earlier. I didn’t even get felt up and I was wearing my best Japanese-butt jeans. But both my Melbourne visitors knew of another party we could go to – Commando.

Now this had me intrigued as I am sure one of them told me it meant you had to go Commando, as in no underwear. I held high hopes I was gonna be undie-checked at the door cause at least I could interpret that as some action in my lonely head. But alas, we got a bum-steer. No one checked my Kenneth Cole briefs as I handed over my cover charge. Commando that night started two trends that went for the entire weekend – 3GreggyD and The Sculptor know more people in Sydney than I do and gay men do not like wearing shirts. Especially in a 400m radius of a dance floor.

Commando was cool, the music was brilliant. But the best bit was the Ball Pit. It brought out the inner child in us all. Frollicking in the Ball Pit is just like you would imagine, hilarious. That is until I thought I thought I lost my wallet. Luckily my jeans were so tight nothing was coming out of those pockets and it was a false alarm. Phew! How could I rack up more debt if I didn’t have atleast 2 credit cards with me?

Suitably drunk and super-confident we strutted our way up Oxford and hit the Shift. The first gay bar I ever went to was the Shift in 1995. I think some of the same crowd is still there. If ever you want a snapshot of the sheer diversity of the gay community step into the Shift one day. You can say a lot of things about this place but ‘dull’ is not one of them. I love and adore it, but I think maybe for all the wrong reasons.

Something very strange came over McDimples at the Shift – he got his sex-face on! He was like a MAGNET!!! He was being showered with love and affection from someone different every time I turned around. It was some phenomenal flirt-work, the likes you rarely see. Now if he was putting notches in his bedhead….???? Me, I’m still finding my feet. There was one (far too) young boy from Mississippi who I gave a whole new meaning for Mississippi Burning due to my facial hair. Weirdest part of night was towards the end when our Melbourne brothers turned to us and say “We’re going for burgers”. What the…? Is that code for something? Apparently not, they went for burgers. McDimples and I kept drinking, that’s how we role in Syd-er-ney!

Saturday is a blur. 3GreggyD and The Sculptor dragged me out of bed for lunch where we told our war-stories from the night before, quickly organized a dinner for that night and then they put me back to bed. Satyrday night, Una’s for a schnitzel is a life-changing experience. It is my favourite meal in Sydney. It is heaven on a plate with gravy. Although we kept choking on our food cause we had some funny stories to share. Lucky Paulie was finally able to join us and thank god he is as Twitter/Grindr/Scruff obsessed as the rest of us – we love our phones (RIP Steve Jobs!). I hurt from laughing!
McDimples, Lucky Paulie, St. Murphy & 3GreggyD
My beautiful Schnit
Una’s was followed by gay-casual drinks at the Green Park. Everyone was still mocking me for my diarrhea story from dinner. We were now sitting on stools. I can’t help my bowel condition! Had one of those moments when the pendulum could have swung either way – home now or out till lunchtime tomorrow. Commonsense and the return of daylight saving prevailed and we tucked ourselves into bed at a respectable hour. Such good boys, almost angelic.

Sunday was the big one! Daywash.

I love a crowd of any sort, always have. Make it a gay crowd and I’m even happier. Make it a gorgeous gay crowd heaving to the dance-version of Adele with no shirts on and I am in absolute HEAVEN!!!! I hadn’t realized how much I missed dance parties until the moment the first bare, incredibly toned, torso took to the podium. Papa was home!!! It’d been 4 years since I’d been to one and that will not happen again. Just unbelievable fun. Fun fun fun!

3GreggyD and The Sculptor were in brilliant form. Again, they knew more people than I did. At one point I was completely surrounded by boys from Melbourne and Brisbane. It started at noon so no excuse for anyone to have a shirt on (except me of course!). My $2 Thai singlet worked a treat at this quasi-summer event. A prominent Melbourne gayer gave me a corsage of a body-loofer from the overhanging clothes line and I also acquired a hot pink tutu to complete my spectacular dance outfit. And dance we did. Lost count of the amount of times I heard Adele on steroids.

The spunky and hilarious Murdoch was backing up from the night before, left his friends at home on the couch and came and played with us all day. See, Twitter does good things.  We’d become friends online and had only met so briefly only the week before. He is now my dance-party buddy and we’re planning for the next. He’s very tall and can see everything so he was like my own personal telescope.
3GreggyD, The Sculptor and Murdoch
We all moved from room to room doing our best So You Think You Can Dance impressions, we’d wander off and then come back to the group, we socialized with strangers and caught up with old friends. It was truly joyous. I literally loved every second. EVERY GODDAMN SECOND! My little heart sank when it finally ended.

We shuffled our way back across Hyde Park for a much-needed costume change before the after-party, Splash. I forgot to feed Little Sammy which I didn’t realize until lunchtime the next day. But I did remember a Yves Saint Laurent spritz, a new singlet and a fresh pack of B&H. Splash was v. cool but yes, everyone was starting to get a little messy. Perhaps even me. I did think at one point I’d never seen a hotter group of men than the crowd on the dancefloor but that could have been the double-vodka’s talking. And I’m out of training, four years out. So my little meaty thighs were starting to get tired. Positioned myself provocatively on a vast leather couch and chatted and giggled with some old and dear friends.
Oh dear.
Then suddenly the lights came on! Oh dear, warts and all. There was talk of a new venue but for fucks sake I’m 39! I needed to curl up in bed before serious injury/possible heart attack. A quick check of my compact and I looked 105. Yes, time for this tired old queen to punch some Z’s. Waved goodbye to 3GreggyD who still had some fight left in him and stumbled, staggered, pretended to strut my way down the hill (thank god!) to Man Pit. A very hungry Little Sammy needed some cuddles.

But a better weekend is hard to recall! This was one of the great ones!

Had an absolute fucking ball!

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