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 Some of you may remember Sleaze Ball, well that has been replaced by a 3 day extravanganza.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!

Happy Happy Joy Joy

Happy Happy Joy Joy! Sound of Music Happy!

Goddamn I’m in a good place at the moment and I feel like shouting it from the rooftops/laptop.

First of all, I love Man Pit. So happy here. Really used to living alone now. I have my Clinique bathroom, my Diet Coke fridge, my vodka freezer, my My Dog pantry and Foxtel. What more could you want in a bachelor pad? Yep, nothing. I do wish the rent wasn’t bankrupting me but it’s a small price to pay for Man Pit.

I’m loving work! Very exciting at the moment. Have been with the same employer for 7 years so of course there are ups and downs, but at the moment its just up, up and away. And please do not let them know, it will make my life unbearable, but I love the people I work with. Love! Never a dull moment and so much fun.

I’m dating for the first time in my adult life and I’m thinking its pretty cool. I'm very bad at it but that’s a whole other post.

Sammy. That is all. My bestfriend and most loyal companion. And I’ll come up with any excuse to post a photo of him…

Made some very funny friends lately and they constantly amuse me. Also have met the brains and brawn behind both Australian Marriage Equality and Community Action Against Homophobia, personal heroes of mine. They’ve got a huge job to do between now and Dec 3 and I’m gonna help wherever I can.

I’m not even stressed that my financial security hangs in the balance with the sale of my house. I know we’ve done all we can and now it’s out of our hands.

Just my little photo spread in SMH's Domain

Summer is just moments away. Just praying it gets here before I lose all of my hard-earned Koh Samui tan.

And so much to look forward to the next few months…

First up, have The Sculptor and 3GreggyD up from Melbourne this weekend for Big Gay Weekend. Going to my first dance party in four years. I’m nervous/excited. It’s being held during the day though which is great as in the last four years I’ve also become the biggest nanna ever.

I hope they all look like him...

In a few weeks I have a blogging conference in Melbourne, which is great in itself, but I’m also sharing an apartment with Woogsworld, Edenland, StylingYou and Sawhole. Can you imagine? No neither can we so we are webstreaming it. Its scares me that I’ll be with a group of friends where I am the quiet one.

After that I’m having a mini-University reunion with some friends who I shared a dorm with in ’95. I can’t even begin to fathom how much has changed for each of us in the last 16 years but we are going to find out with a weekend together in Orange. With lots of food!

Then the big one! My beautiful Cousin Rach just got engaged to a very fabulous man, Nick; a fine addition to the family and a very happy occasion. Now I am the oldest of our generation and Rachel is the youngest, but in terms of maturity we are the same age. Heading home to Griffith for the engagement party and to celebrate with all the fam. And you know I have a very special family.

Huge and sincere congratulations Nick and Rach

Then before you know it its Xmas Party Season – my favourite time of year! Then two weeks off for the festive season.

So you can see why that today, September 27, 2011, I am a very happy man. Its all seems to have come together quite brilliantly at just the right time. More through good luck than good management, but hey that’s the luck of the Irish (a very tenuous link to my Irish heritage).

So after all my whinging on this page the last 6 months, it feels good to spray happiness today.

Thank you for your patience.

xoxoxo

Pimp-Daddy says "Buy my house!"

So the ex, Aschapelle, and I have decided to sell the marital home. Its our little Redfern 2-bedroom dwelling that we bought just over 2 years ago and renovated. I’d forgotten how stressful it is selling a house!  My osteopath will benefit as much as I will. Leaving no stone unturned in the quest to sell so I’m here today to pimp it out. Call me Pimp-Daddy. You just never know, I may have a stalker follower who sits at home hoping and dreaming that one day they can sleep in my former bedroom.

Or there could just be someone looking to buy a gorgeous terrace. Whatever your motivation it works for me.

2 Rennie St, Redfern

Our terrace sits in a beautiful little pocket of East Redfern and is surrounded by the coolest little community. In the early days of St. Murphy I banged on about it quite a bit – the park, the neighbours, the reno’s. I loved living here. It’s a fantastic mix of Surry Hills and all it has to offer but at a safe, accessible distance. East Redfern has all the benefits of inner city living without the Surry Hills price tag.

When Aschapelle and I bought it, it had cement floors and a 70’s kitchen and bathroom. We always saw it as something that would need work. We bit the bullet and reno’d the kitchen and bathroom at the same time and also did floorboards throughout. It was an absolute pain in the ass, we swore we’d never do it again. But we were so so happy (and proud) with the result.

Kitchen is very cool now. Looks so smart f I do say so myself. And we pumped up our chests over the bathroom cause we thought for two ‘design-challenged’ gay-boys it came out very masculine. Not a floral tile to be seen but rather grey slate with a powder blue, glittering recess with rain shower. Heaven.

Upstairs we put in a new bedroom wall closing off a previous open space and put in built-ins. For us it was our dressing room. Between the two of us we had a lot of clothes and needed the whole room to express ourselves. Master bedroom has a balcony and a Foxtel connection. We never agreed on shows – Aschapelle anything reality, me anything scripted drama – so we needed two Foxtel connections or we would have divorced much earlier.

Gorgeous little courtyard with rear lane access out the back. Now this was actually the reason we initially looked at the house. We thought Jackson and Little Sammy needed the space. So we bought the house for our dogs only to discover that they never went out there. And Aschapelle and I, well we rarely left the television. But it is gorgeous and ‘outdoorsy’ people would love it.

Next door is an amazing park that is absolutely central to everything that goes on in the neighbourhood. Seriously, I’ve never seen anything like it. I became so obsessed with it and everything it represents that I wrote a 6000 word paper on it for Uni (yes, a HD). Its full of toys that are there ALL THE TIME! Never stole. Such a safe and secure neighbourhood. There’s a bbq, a compost bin, man-made swings – all provided by the neighbours. They have neighbourhood bbq’s and drinks each Friday night during summer.

Who wouldn’t want to buy into that?

So if you are in the market for a new 2 bedroom home or a brilliant investment please take a look. Our too-cute-for-words real estate agent is the lovely Will Phillips from Bresic Whitney (as a general rule Bresic Whitney has the best looking agents in town, just saying!). Give him a call. But just to be upfront; boys he’s not on our team and girls he has a girlfriend. Call him to buy our house, not to try and get a date.

A little bit sad that we are selling. We obviously bought in happy times. But if there is one thing that can be said about Aschapelle and I, we’ve always been real good about keeping decisions like this emotion free.

So buy my house! Pimp-Daddy says so.

2 Rennie St, Redfern is being shown:

Wednesday's 5.30pm to 6.00pm

Saturday's 10.45am to 11.15am

Auction: Saturday, October 8

Domain listing here!

Bresic Whitney listing here!

Severe Identity Crisis!

Just a quick look  back over some of my blog posts lately and it’s a mix so turbulent it could make you sea sick– electrical appliances, poolside gossip, family stuff, a Bear party, boozey nights, food, gay marriage and Lady Boys. Now that’s an identity crisis.

I’m so confused as to what I’m doing here. I need your help!

There are Mummy Bloggers, Food Bloggers, Tech and Gadget Bloggers, TV Bloggers, Fashion Bloggers, Business Bloggers… all make me feel like the outcast kid sitting alone at the lunch table. I don’t fit in.

I’ve always thought that when I grow up I want to be a Mummy Blogger. They are so cool and have got their shit together. A real community. They have stories about the most random stuff but it all seems to make sense for their page. They are hilarious, insightful, brutally honest and direct. Me, while I do love a penis its clear I don’t have fallopian tubes. Therefore, me no can be a Mummy Blogger as I’m presuming one of the defining characteristics is being a Mummy.

While I certainly care for my Little Sammy like you would a child, he has four legs not two. Doesn’t quite cut it. Perhaps I could be a Dog Daddy Blogger?

Any excuse to include a pic of Little Sammy

Another key factor in my identity crisis is that most of my blogging buddies are Mummy Bloggers. Its bad enough I’m a minority in the real world without being one online as well. I go to Mummy Blogger functions and conferences and stuff, usually as a Mummy Bloggers Plus 1. My three best-blogging-bitches - Mrs Woog, StylingYou and Edenland - lead me through this world and I am their fabulous-gay-best-friend. Perhaps I should become a Hag Fag Blogger?

The stuff I write about most is gay stuff. Truth is, being as camp as Xmas leaves me very little room to move on this one. I lead a particularly homosexual lifestyle. Even my home is called Man Pit. In fact all the best homo stuff I can’t write about here cause it would put hairs on the chest of my Mummy Blogger mates. I’m sure the wider blogging community doesn’t want to hear about Grindr, gay porn, ManHunt, seedy bars, bad one nights stands, etc. Could possibly also paint me as somewhat immoral (coughs, chokes) which would hardly be true.

I wanna be a Gay Super Hero

But it is undeniable there is a very big gay theme running through this blog like a feather boa on the Mardi Gras dance floor. Its what I know best. It’s why I call myself a professional homosexual – I love the ambiguity of that tag! Professional could mean either ‘has a career’, ‘very good at’ or ‘slutty’. I’ll leave it up to you to define for yourself. So probably the most apt description is a Professional Homo Blogger.

I’m also deeply passionate about gay marriage equality. I write about it a lot and that is only going to increase over the coming months in the lead-up to the Labor Party National Conference and CAAH Rally on Dec 3. I’ll be flying the Rainbow flag high and proud between now and then. AND I’ll be expecting lots of support from the blogging community. So this subject leaves me thinking I should be a Gay Activist Blogger, at least for the next 3 months.

Strangely, when I first started this blog 6 months ago, I thought I’d be writing about television (my great love) and pop culture (my great weakness) a lot more than I have. These subjects have lost relevance just like Britney Spears. It seems they just don’t hold my attention like I thought they would. I got too much other shit to talk about. So sadly Television Addict and Pop Culture Victim should not be on my calling card anymore.

So where does that leave me?

Gay as hell, that’s where it leaves me.

So I think from now on I am going to define myself as a Professional Homo Blogger. I’m gonna rally the troops of other Gayers and start our own little community. We may not be as numerous as my dear friends the Mummy Bloggers but goddamn I bet we could match them in vodka consumption and shopping skills.

So my questions for you my lovely readers… 

Have I solved my identity crisis? 

And do you know any other Professional Homo Bloggers?

Such pleasure from an electrical appliance!

Two recent purchases have changed my life! I don’t think anything electrical has ever made me this happy.

Just when I thought I couldn’t rack up anymore debt I gave my credit card one final stab…

A vacuum cleaner and a bedroom TV. Such bliss!

I was ranting not long ago about the knee-deep filth at Man Pit. Cleaning is too daunting but I’m too cheap to pay someone. If I only I’d known that such contraptions as the Electrolux Ergorapido existed my pain would have ended many months ago. Its a genius combination of vacuum AND dust-buster. Did you know it only took me 10mins to whip around Man Pit and erase 6months worth of dog hair? It’s a wondrous thing. I just want to caress it. Its my new favourite upright, phallic electrical product in the world

How goddamn clean is that carpet!

So this was a very practical purchase, the TV not so much.

You may have seen the pics of Man Pit, it is literally the size of your average garage. I sacrifice space for location. And the truth is I really only need a bed and a couch, I don’t even go on my balcony. Or use the kitchen.  I’m one of those inner-city freaks who pays the GDP of New Zealand in rent. But goddamn I could walk to Martin Place in 7 mins if I wanted too. Or just catch a cheap cab which is much more probable.

My bedroom isn’t really a bedroom. It only has two walls. The other two are sliding doors. So if you are laying on my bed with the doors in the right place you can easily and comfortably watch my giant TV in the living room. Yes, that’s how small Man Pit is.

The red is my bed, shot takem from big TV

So you may think me an idiot for needing another TV. But here’s the thing, its all Foxtel’s fault. They called me up to see if I wanted a second box somewhere in the home. I explained that I only have a half-bedroom apartment so that would be quite ridiculous. But once I started thinking about it I could not stop. Is it really such a ridiculous idea? I became obsessed…

Imagine how much fun you could have with two TV’s going at once. I could literally double my viewing. To me it sounds genius. And the most brilliant thing is that at Good Guys you can get ANYTHING so for the bargain price of $180 I got myself a little TV.

I now have both going at all times.

I have never been happier.

My big TV, I love it like a brother.

But I do draw the line at getting a second Foxtel box, even to me that’s bordering on craziness. I actually think it would send me insane. I’d end up a nervous wreck just trying to keep up with my IQ programming. I’d end up watching 8 Law & Orders a night instead of just 4.

I mean of all people I know where to draw the line.

Man Pit is clean! And you can see two TV’s from my bed. Thank you Good Guys for making my world complete.

Last minute holiday and man-kini panic...

I’m in the throws of a last-minute holiday panic! While holidays are the most brilliant, amazing thing in the world – especially resort holidays! – I always find that there is a shitload of stuff to do in the final days so that you are holiday ready. And man-kini ready!

Resort 1

First of all there’s the longer-term prep. I’m just days away from 2 weeks of sunning myself poolside with a cocktail in hand on the islands of Thailand (I know, tough life!) so for a resort holiday like this I need atleast 3 downloaded TV series and 4 books. Finally my books arrived today and I’m just getting a start on iTunes. But how dumb is this, I bought the York crib notes of The Great Gatsby rather than the actual book. Guess it makes for easier reading.

Next up is the man-scaping. To be exposing your body in the briefest of Speedo’s like I’m about to requires significant self-maintenance. Yes, I’m gay. I really should have concentrated on weight-loss some months ago but I got distracted. Nothing I can do about my gut-overhang now. Instead I’m going to disguise it with a full-body clipper for easier tanning and a touch-up eyebrow wax.

Which reminds me… need to pack nail clippers.

Now I can be incredibly anal and I like to know where, when and how I am doing everything before I head off. Staying at 3 different resorts so bookmarked all their websites today for a thorough examination. My beautiful friend Miss Melbourne, who I am holidaying with, has expertly booked the whole trip. No one knows how to resort-holiday better than Miss M. So I have some catching up to do with insider knowledge.

Resort 2

I like to prioritise hotel restaurants and also beauty treatments at their day spas. I consider this critical. I’m not one for wasting time reading hotel room info packages when it can all be done beforehand. I also like to know something about the local nightlife cause you never know when a beautiful dinner followed by a Duty Free nightcap can turn into a night of disco-dancing. And it goes without saying I like to know when the gays hang.

Always my last minute panic will include the boring and mundane household shit. So much washing, cleaning and setting of the IQ. I have enough trouble taking care of Man Pit and Little Sammy when I’m here let alone when I’m not. Good thing I have Little Sammy’s step-dad on stand-by, he will take my little man. Bills are paid and up-to-date, and I’ve cancelled PT. Just have to remember to deoderise the carpet as I exit Man Pit so it doesn’t smell like a kennel when I get back.

Last, last, lucky last thing I do before a holiday is go shopping. Usually at one of my favourite stores in the world – PRICELINE! You need your sunscreen, your giant pack of Nurofen Plus, spare ventolin, Zantac, Nicobate Lozenges, deodorant, blah blah blah. This is a full shopping basket skip around Priceline. Nothing worse than being stuck in a foreign country and not having enough mouthwash.

Anyone feeling sorry for Miss M?

Luckily she knows me oh so well after many, many years of friendship. She is Inner Circle. Strangely we’ve never travelled together before but we know it is going to be the easiest thing in the world. Our benchmark is ‘hung-over days’ and we do them brilliantly together. So in-tune. We famously move the mattress from the bed to in front of the tv and always stock up on supplies the day before so we don’t have to move. We are going to travel BRILLIANTLY together.

Resort 3

So I will be telling many tales about Miss M over the coming weeks. I’ve decided, for no particular reason, to changer her name. A bit like Prince does. Miss M will now be known as Lady M, like an upgrade. Maybe one day she will become known as ‘artist formerly know as Miss M’ but from today she is Lady M.

I promise our adventures in Thailand will entertain. 

All this 'work' is so gonna be worth it even for just 5 mins poolside. It's been a looooooong year!

What do you hide on a one-night-stand?

Of course I would never have to worry about this because I am like the Virgin Mary and pure as the driven snow. It’s true, some even call me angelic. But if I was to have a ‘gentleman caller’, what is it in Man Pit that would cause me embarrassment? This is what I am thinking about today. And sadly not because there is any action on the horizon, more just about being a good boy scout.

If you had a 15min window before a new ‘special friend’ entered your home for some ‘adult cuddles’ what are the things that you would run around and hide? As I’m sure many of you would know, some of the best relationships can come out of a one-night-stand. You should always put your best foot forward on night one just incase. Here are the things I would make sure they never see if ever my morals lapsed.

Jackie Collins books

I went through a serious Jackie Collins phase in my late teens, in fact it was Jackie who taught me about sex. And drugs. And Hollywood. She has huge sentimental value for me. Subsequently I still have a few of her more infoamous titles on my otherwise esteemed bookshelf. Not sure what others would make of them...

My hair bands

My gorgeous long flowing locks are obvious to anyone. But what I’d like to hide is that my guilty pleasure when I am at home alone is to wear a fetching head band. Not very butch I know but it makes me feel very glamorous on couch-nights.

R M Williams boots

Not that I’m embarrassed by them but to try and explain how a boy from the bush and a wearer of R M Williams boots comes to be ‘seducing’ a manly man is terribly unromantic. It’s just best to avoid the telling of that story.

Medicine cabinet

I’m a pill-popper. There is no ailment I can’t cure with a few pills from my overstocked medicine cabinet. Any gentleman caller could momentarily think I’ve brought them home to St Vincents Hospital if they caught a glimpse of my medicine cabinet. Only drug I'm missing is Viagra which would probably be the one they are looking for.

Scarves

And when I say scarf think Jackie Onassis. Like the square, soft, feminine ‘sailing in the Mediterranean’ type scarf. It’s a recent thing. I love them, buy them, but can never find an occasion to wear them. Also, I now question if it’s ever appropriate for a man to wear such a scarf.

Ashtray

Its full. And disgusting. Even though I’m currently describing myself as a non-smoker. Surely a non-smoker is anything less than 20 a day??? No one likes a liar or a smoker.

Collection of recycling bags

Some may call it a fetish, whereas I call it environmentally friendly. Every time I go to the supermarket I buy another 1+ of those gorgeous green bags. I now have a whole shelf full. I should really learn to recycle my environmentally friendly shopping bags. Just plain weirdo.

Yoga dvd

Now this would just be false advertising. I did yoga for exactly two weeks and still giggled every time they asked me to do a downward-dog. I have absolutely no idea where this dvd came from even. Its never left its case. If they thought they were potentially up for some yoga moves from me they’d be sadly disappointed. Lucky to touch my toes.

More dog food than human food

Not sure why any one-night-stand would be in my pantry but I’m sure if they took a look they’d be mightily concerned. I have more dog food and snacks than I do human. I make no secret that I take better care of Little Sammy than I do of myself and there is no better demonstration of this than a quick glimpse in my pantry. Let me be clear... I don't eat dog food.

Rotted teeth

I’m a hoarder. Sad but true. I also have a box of particularly precious items. I have some extracted teeth in there. Say no more.

Puffer vest

Please god, no one tell Mrs Woog! My puffer vest is the tip of the iceberg when it comes to my wardrobe, but exemplary of the issues it could cause me. I just can't be sexy 24/7, 52 weeks a year.

Ok, now I realize if that I was to have a one-night-stand I would need far longer than 15mins to clean up Man Pit. “Just wait in the hallway will you love, be back in 30.”




Now, most importantly, what is it that you would hide??? I'm aching to know!

Slap! Reality Check.

Firstly, who said Australia was homophobic? Gays may not be able to marry but there’s a long weekend to celebrate the Queens. I love Kate and Will as much as anyone but I’m a Republican at heart so I’m ignoring any Queen other than my people. Thanks for the long weekend to celebrate us!

It may seem like three random stories today but I promise it will all make sense in the end. Stick with me, have faith...

Couch.

I sat down on my beloved couch at approx 9pm on Friday night and got off again at approx 12noon on Sunday. Yes, I rolled myself into bed both nights but that was at the very last moment before my eyes shut only to quickly return upon waking. Had a fridge full of gourmet snacks, Belvedere vodka and some B&H on the outdoor table. There is nothing either Little Sammy or I could want for. Had both heaters going all weekend creating a very cozy Man Pit. Jeez I watched some brilliant television and ate myself up two sizes.

First night/day/night was all Law & Order, no shock there. Then the absolute highlight! My new friend Arrjaydub brought over the entire first series of Downton Abbey. Heaven, so brilliant, this is one of the best TV series ever made. I can not recommend enough. Shame my allegedly gourmet quiche and pork pies were shit otherwise it was a perfect sensory experience. Then I introduced Arrjaydub to another of the all-time greats - West Wing! So much television, so much food. Completely self-indulgent, lazy, luxurious few days.

Third all-time greatest television series.

Potts Point.

I am so confused by Potts Point! I like neat little descriptions for things so that I can easily sort in my head. Potts Point confuses the hell out of me. It is such a weird mix of just about everything. Gorgeous gourmet deli’s next door to a shop where you can buy a 12 inch dildo. Beautiful homewares stores half a block down from a sordid strip bar. And the people on the streets reflect this. Mostly it’s your standard Eastern Suburbs glamour-set with their fur collars, designer denim and giant sunglasses. But then around the corner you have the complete contrast of anorexic strippers and giant scary bouncers. I also smell the whiff of a methadone clinic. So confused.

Mark David Jones took me exploring yesterday, and of course we were exploring for food and drinks – it’s what we do best. Mr MDJ took me for my first experience of Fratelli Paradiso. I whinged my way through a 15minute wait for a table before we had a gorgeous, generous lunch of calamari, pasta and steak. The food was divine, so were our vodka’s and wine. We didn’t bat an eyelid at our Monday lunch bill before heading to Green Park Hotel for a quiet afternoon drink. Just a lovely, lovely afternoon. Thanks Mr MDJ.

Fratelli Paradiso

Monday Night.

Reality check. Some nights when Little Sammy and I go for our evening walk we pass the line-up of disadvantaged men and women who are waiting for the kind and compassionate people who deliver their evening meal. This is embarrassing to admit but I always have a brief moment where I check where my phone and wallet are. Normally there are about 30+ people lining up. Last night there were about 60-70, possibly more. We can walk around with blinkers on sometimes, claim ignorance and pretend not to see what un-nerves us; last night was different. It was a sobering wake-up call. At the risk of sounding patronising, it really broke my heart.

It has been so cold and so wet all weekend. Where have these guys been, how have they stayed warm? You can imagine after a weekend like that they would be aching for a hot meal. No wonder numbers were so high last night. No wonder there were so many men and women politely lined up with their possessions - first in, first served – for the chance at some comfort. I was feeling like a fat, lazy pig after a weekend of pure indulgence, excess and comfort. All while there were at least 70 men and women in my neighbourhood who were struggling to find any sort of comfort. Slap, huge reality check.

For all my whinging and moaning here at St. Murphy I am one of the incredibly lucky and fortunate ones who really has not a care in the world.

Signing up for volunteer work with Father Chris Riley's first thing today.

Father Chris Riley's Youth Off The Streets food van (Google Image pic)