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'My Corduroyed Life' - Mark A's Journal
Here comes another random idea that I will claim that I'll regularly do on my blog, and then forget about...
Seems to me that I'm inspired to blog by stuff all the time, but then I think that it would be too short to justify bothering. However, size isn't everything, and maybe some of these random thoughts are actually worth documenting in some form. As such, instead of posting lots of silly little blogs one by one, perhaps I should collate them as a go until I have five or so, and then post them all together? With this as an idea, here is my first (only?) collection of those 'mini blogs'.
Have fun,
M
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Footy Makes You Butch
Even if it's by an accident of flippancy...
I watched the footy the other day (England V France), and up the offy beforehand, we were behind some big time footy lads. When we looked at the beer, I declared to my mate Huw "Don't buy French beer."
A footy lad, complete with England shirt and England flag sarong, must have heard me as he turned round and started being all lary, and heartily agreeing with me. He then enthused this motion to his mates, who nodded in agreement. No French lager was purchased. I feel ever so masculine...
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*croaky*
My throat hurts...
I don't do sporting events. Or at least, I very rarely do them. When I do do them, I do actually get ever so excited and vocal. The chance of there being two sporting events that I actually give a monkeys about two days in a row are minimal. But this is what happened last weekend with the Speedway GP in Cardiff, and the footy on the telly. I bellowed at the Speedway on Saturday, then bellowed at the footy on Sunday. My throat hurts and I'm all husky from shouting at sporting events: I feel ever so masculine! [grin]
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"If you want to kiss me, now's your last chance to do it."
Once again I'm back on my pink soapbox as I was when I whinged about feeling intimidated buying the Gay Times. It's actually on a very similar subject actually...
I'm seeing this guy, he's very sweet and handsome and my friends like him, &c. However, he is very, very uncomfortable of being tactile anywhere that isn't in private or in Manchester's gay village. I was walking him to the station in Manc, and as we were leaving the aforementioned village, he said: "If you want to kiss me, now's your last chance to do it." Of course, I did kiss him, but it got me thinking. How crap is it that straight people can show their affection for their partner anywhere, but gay people (some more than others) are embarrassed/ scared to do it. Once again, it boils down to the fear that we'll be attacked just for being what we are.
It makes my blood boil that there are places considered 'safe' for gay people to hold hands, kiss, whatever, and places where it's not. I'm generally a laid back kinda guy, but this is something that really upsets me. What's blogging going to do about it? Nothing, obviously... But as usual, a vent helps me clear my anger a little.
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Firefly
I've been watching it recently, having hired it from screenselect...
mcphee raved about a months ago, but I was a little sceptical as the concept as I saw it was somewhat unoriginal. I saw it as 'Han Solo but with a bigger crew', which is a bit lame. It is 'Han Solo but with a bigger crew', but it is anything but lame. Bloody hell, it's just superb! Wonderful characters, good production values, some clever ideas, and interesting storylines - there is no way to fault the programme (except perhaps the ropey theme tune, but that can be forgiven!).
It is a tragedy and a travesty that this beautiful piece of television was unceremoniously axed. The silver lining is that it's going to be made into a film trilogy. Roll 'em on I say!
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He looks NOTHING Like Me!
Once again, I've been accused of having a looky likey...
Not Steve McDonald from Coronation Street this time, but some random guy from the Salford Uni website. The younger guy on the left with the blue shirt:
He looks nothing like me... Unless the general consensus is that he's fit, obviously.
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Current mood:
okay.Current music: Broken Glass by The Crystal Method.