Thursday, 30 April 09

07:01
My life feels distinctly like Groundhog Day. For again today I lean over and smack the mobile phone until it shuts up.

08:14
I have run and that's a good thing. Even better is that I have done some abdominal work too.

Helping me crunch this morning is Grace Jones who's song "I've Seen That Face Before (Libertango)" is powering my abs. Mouth along, if you know how to...

I am the six-foot svelte black diva heaving breathlessly and counting crunches on the mat.
Tu cherches quoi, rencontrer la mort,
Tu te prends pour qui, toi aussi tu detestes la vie.

I have no idea why I am suddenly fond of all things Gallic this morning. It has nothing to do with this.

10:54
It is such a dull day at the office that Tina and I decide to form The Fabulous People Club.

The criteria for entry into our club is that you have to be fabulous. And wear sunglasses at all hours of the day. Fabulous people never let their eyes be seen.

Tina and I immediately organise a photoshoot in the middle of the office for our promotions material.



11:26
Tina and I accused of buggering around and not doing any work.

Fair enough...

Maybe it was a bad idea to send this picture around the office explaining our club and telling everyone they're all too dull be to eligible to join.

11:47
I am listening to Pink Martini and the lead singer of the group is singing "je ne vieux pas travailler." I am listening to and enjoying music with a French flavour on purpose.

12:17
So do you remember this from yesterday?

(Could anyone forget?)

So we're e-mailing each other and he tells me he's from Lyon which, we learn, is in the south-east of the country and the second largest metropolitan area in France. (Wikipedia)

He will now be known as Francois though hopefully I will be calling him at all hours of the day.

13:56
Never let anyone tell you that London is a huge mega-city that's home to nearly eight million people. London is a village which is why my e-mail goes ping!

It's a message with a photo. Someone who knows of Francois has kindly sent me a picture of him in a kilt from Soho Pride some years back.

Francois is on the left.

I immediately tell Tina she can shove her stupid Fabulous Idiots club up her bum, I've got my wedding to organise.

15:29
I make a mental note when I get home to download the entire Johnny Halliday back catalogue to learn it all off by heart.

16:55
When he first messaged me, I spotted that Francois, like me, is a Gemini. I mail him and ask when his birthday is. He tells me it's a week before mine. Ohmygod. I am thinking His & His birthday party.

17:21
More French music to listen to, this time it's Sebastien Tellier and of course it is appropriate that I play that song...
I also check out the finance deals on new Renaults.

19:06
In the gym and thinking that I should have paid more attention to the French lessons at school.

20:21
Back at home and having another think.

It's been ages since I've logged onto Gaydar and one message from a hot guy is not the greatest thing to have happened this week.
Gaydar is a place where guys meet semi-anonymously to shag each other. That's not really my scene.

The whole swapping pictures of cocks and declaring whether you like willies in your bum (or not) doesn't appeal to me. The guys who I have interacted with have done so because I've chatted them up or vice versa.

It's about the spark when you meet someone. The glint in the eye. The smell. The smile.

"Have you got a clear face pic" isn't a fast-track into my trousers.

20:31
Hey Francois,

Thanks for the e-mail you sent to me.

I was flattered that you messaged me - and maybe in ten minutes I'll regret sending this but I don't have pictures to send you and wouldn't want to do it anyway. As I mentioned, Gaydar really isn't my thing. If I meet people it's in real life - I hope you understand.

Happy Birthday for 24 May and if I see you around I promise to say salut!

Bob x

So the wedding's off and his slippers aren't going to spend any time under my bed.

21:21
He doesn't e-mail back and I don't really expect him to.

My French may be ropey but I can still recite these lyrics off-by-heart...
Non, rien de rien,
Non, je ne regrette rien
C'est payé
balayé, oublié
Je me fous du passé.

Tuesday 28 April 09

08:52
This is a fairly respectable time to rise and that's what I do.

10:51
The song for today is the Freemasons' Club Mix of Beyonce's Ring the Alarm.

And I'm finished my morning run.
Time: 44'00
Distance: 5,37 kms
Calories: 563

Lick that bitches.

13:20
Katie an I are on the 4th floor in Liberty where there's an exhibition of prints by Storm Thorgerson who is the king of album cover designers.

In my opinion / IMO this is the greatest album cover of all time (Pink Floyd - "Wish You Were Here") but Storm is also responsible for this...

Hello! How cool is that?

13:27
There's a polished steel orb which means I just have to...



14:10
Katie and I decide to have lunch at Leon. We agree on the Halloumi wrap and avoid the Mexican salsa one. You never know...

15:21
Finding the most ludicrous name for a death metal band is something I enjoy and make a point of doing when I am in the HMV on Oxford Street.

So far the well-known Greek rock outfit "Rotting Christ" hold the title although the competition is, as always, pretty fierce. Here are three offerings I find in the metal section today.

First is Dying Fetus. Ooh, scary! Dead unborn babies is a sure-fire reason to be offended.

Homocidal Retribution seems to be the tune everyone's talking about off the album. According to Wikipedia the song is unusual because it has a music video.

The opening lines of the song are:
Lost my faith in justice
Time does not heal this pain
Defiled my existence
Recurring nightmare.
See if you can sing along then.

Does the lead singer really sound like that or have they fiddled with his voice? Do they do ballads?

So many questions but there is no time for answers because we're onto the next contenders in today's race and it's Asbestos Death.

I can't find much about them, only that they're classified as sludge metal and er, that's it.

None of their music is on iTunes so I'm going to hazard a guess that maybe their signature tune is "Coughing Up Blood."
Or "Mr Fix-it's coming on Tuesday to replace that toxic stuff in the loft."

But it's the final act which I think could take today's prize (the Streisand back catalogue*)

Yes, all the way from San Diego in California, I give you Cattle Decapitation.

This album is probably their most famous (so says iTunes) and I am particularly intrigued by the song "We Are Horrible People."

They are also responsible for the Saturday night pub-pleaser "Testicular Manslaughter." Ho hum.

* = there is no prize actually.

17:21
Back in the gym (we're a Twice-a-day Tina, we are...) and it's full but nicely so. This judgement is made based on the quality of the talent.

Chris is there and Liam is too although they don't count.

(FYI: I have completely gone off Liam for the foreseeable future. The "will we, won't we" game became so boring. O. V. A. H.)

So Liam and I survey the gym for talent and even though we have nothing scheduled Chris helps with back and shoulders.

19:49
I've washed socks, Hoovered under the bed because the cleaner never does it, packed my gym bag and had three cups of green tea.

Fuck. I haven't had an alcoholic drink since 17 April. No wonder I feel so uneasy.

20:21
In the midst of our DIY Sally and I decide to combine two old and unloved Ikea lamps for comedy effect. The result makes me smile every time I look at it...

To turn it off, Sally has to stand on a step ladder.

It's absolutely ridiculous. It's perfect.

22:31
About to push "Publish" when it occurs to me. Tomorrow I am going to insulate my life from all talk of the gym, music and particularly the Freemasons.

For a laugh I might get my knob out. To show you that I'm also going to need a very long lens. Obviously.

Okay, smutty sexual innuendo is banned tomorrow as well.

Monday, 27 April 09

08:46
The song I have in my head when I wake up is the Freemasons' club remix of the Moby track "Disco Lies."

It's easy to tell that I have the full mix playing in my head and not the Club Edit because the latter only contains the second verse once.

The song in my head contains the bridge between the second verse and the refrain. That means it's the 9'03 Club Mix. Everyone knows that.

09:27
On the treadmill at gym running at a constant pace with a 2.5 inch incline. Shayna Steele is singing as I jog; "You said you need me... that was just a lie!"

The iPod shuffle I have for long-distance running generally contains club remixes. Just so that you know.

10:56
Walking through an empty Westfield having a look at the duvet covers in the White Company. In this shop duvet covers start at around £120.

Fuck that.

11:25
At Balans in Westfield with Nix and we're discussing the inherent insecurities within middle class homosexuals. My eggs are scrambled, Nix's are poached.

13:42
Leaving GNC at Bond Street Tube Station with a large tub of whey protein in a bag.

Just outside the store there is a man selling satellite TV. He says "hey, I see you have all those gym supplements but have you ever thought about getting Sky?"

"Um... no. Thanks. But. Um.... What?!"

I smile but it takes about 4 seconds to register what he's just said. I say no thanks again and walk on.

It is only when I am half way down the escalator that I realise his genius. He's using non sequiturs as a device to catch peoples' attention.

This is the sales technique of the future. You read about it here first.

"Hello Sir, my uncle has a pet aardvark and have you ever thought about subscribing to Reader's Digest?"

"I never use the tumble dryer because it's always such a waste of electricity but any donation, however small, could really help the Salvation Army."

14:27
In the gym and doing chest flys using the green Swiss ball.
(This is not a non sequitur but a statement of fact.)

15:52
Home. Bored. Decide to watch a movie. Dunno what movie to watch.

Sitting on the couch at 4pm watching movies makes me feel like some lay-about social benefit sponge. Maybe if I watch a suitably high brow film these feelings will subside.

16:17
No matter how many times I try, I can never manage to sit through more than 20 minutes of Citizen Kane.

It can't be because it's in the black and white because Sunset Boulevard and Dr Strangelove are two of my most favourite movies eva.

17:45
And that was a lovely snooze!

19:57
Dishwasher, bills, banking, bla bla fart.

21:48
Another day is wasted because Luke Guldan is still not married to me and I am another day further from him.


"Our kids play howdy-doody...
As the sun sets in the west.
A picture out of Better Homes & Gardens magazine.

Far from Skid Row
I dream we'll go...
Somewhere that's green."

Sunday, 26 April 09

10:14
Okay, I'll wake up at this hour, it's fine. Except I am tangled in the duvet cover.

When I moved my bed the cover tore, the tear has got big and I'm caught up in it. I must go to Habitat later to inspect their range of duvet covers.

10:51
I feel like I've been picked up and thrown against a brick wall.

These black straps are not mine but they are to blame. They belong to Chris and they're called wraps.

They are treacherous because they help you lift heavy weights, ones you wouldn't usually be able to lift.

13:21
We're somewhere in St James Park because this is where the London Marathon ends. Sally and I agree that there is more talent amongst the non-runners than there is with the athletes.

I have to apologise at this point for my lack of photographic evidence to support our claim but it's difficult to take pictures without a camera.

Well that's a lie. There's a camera on the iPhone. Herewith the evidence...



14:02
Bla bla, runners, marathon, well done, get a medal, feel good, walk around in silver tin foil, running shorts are so unflattering. I leave.

14:43
Habitat expect me to give them £75 and in return they will allow me to take a new duvet cover out of their shop! I decline this formalised robbery and leave the store.

14:52
Sainsbury's do duvet covers for £10. Can you imagine the static created by a ten pounder? A night of tossing off and turning and you'd generate enough electricity to power a small village in the Cotswolds.

And let's be honest - we all know that nylon sheets are rubbish because they offer absolutely no traction.

17:30
The sun is beginning to set, it's the start of a gorgeous evening in the Londons and everyone wants to be out in their garden reading the paper and sipping Pimms.
Perhaps they may fire up the barbeque and settle in with friends for one last hoorah before the glorious weekend ends.

Yep, I'm off to the cinema.

20:11
In The Loop is funny and with a large number of obscene insults. I enjoyed it.

23:31
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I can't abide this any fucking longer.

When Macs work they are great. When they don't they are fucking useless piles of fucking shit.

With a PC, when it fucks up you can open the bonnet and see what the fuck is wrong and try to fix it.

With a Mac all you get are fucking generic fucking messages like "Safari cannot connect to the internet" and nowhere will it give you any indication as to what is wrong.

It just sits there. Like the useless pile of fucking steaming shit that it is.

And what's with all the fucking dim Mac names for everthing?

Instead of Wifi it's AirPort. AirPort is connected to the router but for some reason Safari (geddit - going onto the internets is like going on Safari - oh will someone please fucking slap me) anyway Safari won't connect to the net.

So I have had to copy the all of this text from one Mac onto a PC (my housemate's) and it's working fine and I can connect to the internet perfectly.

Over on the other side of the table that dim fucking MacBook sits spewing out some holier-than-thou crap that a whole load of hairy men lounging on beanbags in California made up.

"Would you like to check the network diagnostics?"

"No, I don't want to check some fucking random shit that I can't fix, I just want the goddam thing to connect to the fucking internet."

I think that's why they make Mac shit so fucking expensive. Not because it's any better but simply because it makes you think twice before picking the fucking thing up and hurling it across the fucking living room.

You stupid MacBook pile of fucking crap.

00:06
I'm going to bed. Fuck.

Thursday, 23 April 09

08:52
The idea of getting out of bed and getting ready to go to work is an insurmountable challenge that I cannot face so I admit defeat, roll over and go back to sleep again.

10:47
Is there something that no-one's telling me? I am on the Jubilee Line travelling to Bong Street and there's not one...

But two people reading Bibles...

Part of me wants to nudge them and whisper in their ear that in the end Jesus dies but why ruin it?*

I know times are hard but what's this all about?

* - apologies if I've just ruined it for you too.

11:09
In the Boots on Oxford Street there is a man in the window who is standing in his underwear and there is another man applying fake spray-on tan and it's only when the man in his Calvins turns around that I dare take a photo.

You see, guys who do this (just like the dudes who hang in the doorway at Abercrombie & Fritzl) want you too look which is why you shouldn't.

They're no different to overweight men in vests with hairy shoulders who drive convertible Bentleys. They only reason they drive those cars or stand in the window at Boots on Oxford Street is because they want you too look.

Don't.

12:27
Can you make this out? I hope you can because otherwise there's no way you'd believe me...

Check out the hair. And the shirt underneath the jersey.

Cruella De Ville shops at our Sainsbury's. Except she was a he.

12:57
Anal sex isn't for pussies.
(This occurs to me while I'm perusing products in the meat section)

13:29
Lunch is the tenderest juiciest beef fillet that is so succulent it's like chewing on a baby.



14:36
I'm saying nothing (thanks MeJoe)



16:48
Herewith a partial transcript of my session with Chris who with every passing moment edges closer to being the Anti-Christ and/or The Best Personal Trainer in London.

Chris
"And nine, ten, eleven...

Bob
"Fuck, shit - fuck, ow ow...

Chris
"No - properly.. and we start again, one, two...

Bob
"Fuck it man, fuck shit ow ow... fuck I can't... ow

Chris
"Shut up otherwise we start again... one, two..

Bob
"Fuck no wait stop, stop... ow I can't...

Chris
"Shut up and hold it for another 15 seconds...

17:30
The work-out is over and I may vomit but it's the best one so far.

19:25
I feel sick and farty.

21:27
I think I'm going to give up on this day now. Some days weren't meant to go on for ever and this is one of them.

I was going to retire to bed and listen to Leonard Cohen but I need something a little less cheerful.

The Marianne Faithfull version of The Ballad Of Lucy Jordan does the trick. Unusually it is my 27th most-played song since November 2007. It should be in the Top 10.

21:45
"I have torn everyone who reached out for me.
But I swear by this song
And by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee."

Wed, 22 April 09

22:47





















It doesn't get more interesting than that.
(The pain and the effort to type words into a computer is a pain that I cannot bear. My brain cannot work and my fingers won't move.
I am a dry husk, a barren and aching river bed where water once flowed but is now cracked under the hot midday sun.
I am the fool who stuts and frets upon an empty stage and although my words are full of sound and fury, they mean nothing.
Fill me from the crown to the toe topful of direst cruelty for abandoning you with nothing!) etc.

Tuesday 21 April 09

07:01
Urgh. Another day and I mean no offence to anyone who answers to 21 April as their birthday but I'm not feeling it today.

I'm sure to some people today is a lovely day but not in the Bobby household. I would rather roll over and pull my floral eye mask* back on but instead I get out of bed to face the impending doom that is today.

* = I don't have a floral mask.

08:54
The man who drives the Central Line train says something about another train not working so we're all delayed "severely" but I just don't. care. at. all. Instead we sit at Marble Arch station doing nothing.
And people huff and puff and I don't know why they don't get off the bloody train and walk if they're so late.

08:57
Humans and sheep have a lot in common. Lemmings too.

10:29
Do you know that you should never make your kids do ballet or gymnastics because you'll send them to an early grave. This is serious stuff.

Alex and I are discussing this because the meeting happening around us is far too boring to take a meaningful part in.

Basically ballet and gymnastics are all about perfection which is impossible to achieve.

So the poor fucking neurotic kid goes to bed thinking "if only I'd pushed myself that much more, it would have made the difference between thunderous applause and thunderous applause and cheering."

And then they exert themselves even more and no-one cheers and then they have to starve themselves and ohmygod, you've fucked the kid up.

Gymnastics and ballet are about striving for artistic perfection which is impossible.

10:32
Predictably Alex and I are told to keep quiet which I think is outrageous. Think of all the poor children we could be saving.

11:47
Today's song is by Edwin Starr and you can easily song along...

War! HUH!
What is it good for?
Absolutely nothing...

13:52
Oh yeah, speaking of music... like mixing prints was once acceptable so it was tradition to publish your 25 most-played songs on iTunes. I think this tradition passed me by so for the sake of bla bla.

Knock yourselves out...

(Double click on pic = make big)

Yes, I was listening to Toto when I took the grab. Yes, it's an upsetting list. It has a lot to do with what I listen to in the gym.

I would show you from 26 and onwards but I think they list is even more abdominal.

17:24
I can't believe that I'm suddenly at gym and Chris is making me work so hard that I know that tomorrow morning I am going to have to put on my clothes like someone whose arms are too short.

Chris says the best way to do weights is to imagine that someone has a gun to your head and if you give up, they will shoot you.

This shit isn't for sissies.

19:38
What the fuck is all the shouting from the neighbours below? Has one of them buggered the other?

Er, no. It's the bloody football.

I think they're do far better were I to lend them some of my rugby-themed videos*.

They'd be shocked at first but once you've tightened the ball-gag so that they can't scream it's easier for both parties.

And rope burn is easily excused.

* = I don't have any rugby-themed videos. I did once have an oval-shaped ball though but Dr Saltzmann did a great job. You wouldn't notice anything now.

21:56
I have to be up early so...I'm off.

And remember if you're in South Africa tomorrow - it doesn't matter who you vote for, just get out there and make your mark for democracy!
Viva democracy! Viva South Africa, viva!

(It's just a T-shirt. Don't assume anything. Of all the parties outside South Africa House on 17 April, the ANC were the only ones kind enough to give me a T-shirt)

Monday 20 April 09

07:46
About to step onto the treadmill which is going to mean 30 minutes of pure, unadulterated running.
I would blast myself with some Kelly Rowland song for inspiration but god that's so boring now...

08:17
30 minutes of cardio down, 371 calories burnt and 3,54 miles run.

08:21
Chris warns me about "mind fog". This is apparently when you go mad, basically.

By the way, Chris is helping me at the gym so that I can look good naked. Chris has good pedigree of making men look good naked because he nearly ended up on the cover of Men's Health.

In the end he lost out to a British soldier who'd apparently gunned down some militant gentleman with a rocket launcher on his shoulder in Iraq. Hey ho.

Anyway, so mind fog or brain fod or whatever it's called (see I've gone a little queer already...) is from a lack of something and you go a bit wonky in the head.

I don't know why Chris is warning me about mind mist (?) but there you go.

10:31
Poor Mel is sitting on one of the couches in hallway because she's feeling a little odd. Stomach cramps or something.
I suggest that maybe she's suffering from brain bog. She just looks at me oddly.

10:33
I regale Mel with the story about some guy who, before offering to shake my hand on the stairs, was naked and cupping himself. This makes Mel laugh and now she's feeling better.
This counts as A Good Deed.

12:41
Checking the Ministry of Defence website about becoming a soldier. You know...

Or...

On second thoughts, Army sounds too much like scout camp.

I mean, don't get me wrong, these guys do a great and noble job but just as I would go mad at being shouted at by the drill sergeant so they would go mad at having to do my work in a building where mice run across your feet.

12.42
Okay, a soldier's job is more shit and requires more bravery than mine does.

13:56
Katie keeps using the word totes which is short for totally apparently. And then there's phenom which is short for phenomenal. Is this what all the kids are using now? I can't keep up.
This makes me feel old so I slug a protein shake and drop some pill to speed up my metabolism.

15:29
In a meeting and we're writing on Post-It notes which someone is sticking on walls and I am wondering if it really was Romy and Michelle who invented these little bits of paper that are sticky on one end.

17:11
On the phone to someone in South Africa who says that people are so excited about the elections on Wednesday that they're foaming at the mouth to cast their vote.
I think he means chomping at the bit.

20:11
Gym, gym, gym more fucking gym.

21:17
Fuck, did you know that it's like 20 April or something. Do you know what that means? Shit.
Wondering where I am going to see in 2010 on 30 December. I have done London for three years running.

It goes something like:
'99 - '00: On a balcony on a beautiful warm evening overlooking Cape Town.
'00 - '01: On the same balcony on a beautifully warm evening overlooking Cape Town.
'01 - '02: In Club 55, Green Point, Cape Town.
'02 - '03: In Green Point, Cape Town having a very low-key evening after nearly killing myself in a car accident the weekend before.

Er, let's forget about New Year's Eves actually.

21:34
And besides, Happy New Year by Abba is such a depressing and sad song. I think I should turn it off...

22:01
Sometimes it's cathartic to wallow in sadness and induce depression. It sharpens you up for the good times.
In my little book of tricks I have written; "remember today's high is tomorrow's low."

22:12
Haven't put the Super Trouper LP away just yet. Before I go to rest my weary head Annifrid and Agnetha must sing to me...

"I don't wanna talk, if you makes you feel sad
And I understand, you've come to shake my hand.
I apologise, if it makes you feel bad
Seeing me so tense
No self confidence
But you see..."

(Come on, all together now...)

"The winner takes it
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllll...."

"The winner takes it
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllll...."

Sunday, 19 April

03:12
My housemate, her friend and two gentleman are in the lounge drinking, smoking and listening to music. It's not this that has woken me up but the woman next door who seems to have re-postioned her TV.

Just because she's an insomniac doesn't mean I have to be one too.

Reaching over the to the phone I note that I am again woken up at the following times:
3:41
3:47
4:02
4:09
4:37
4:56
5:21

6:00
Alarm clock wakes me up even though it feels like I haven't actually been to sleep.

6:04
Packing my gym bag on the staircase landing when a naked gentleman appears at the top cupping himself.
I glance at him in the most nonchalant manner possible and cheerily say hullo. I am pleased that he is slightly good looking with a 7.8 out of ten body.

He has the look of someone who's standing naked on a staircase in a house which isn't their own. I carry on regardless.
He has beaten the guy Sally had round last week by a country mile.

09:05
At work and not doing much because of my latest Freemasons obsession. Which is this...

And the particular part of the Kelly Rowland Club Remix (10'37) that makes my heart skip a beat is the bit of the song from around 7'14.

This is where the tune moves from slow to fast again.

So what the Freemasons have done is squashed the mid on the EQ so that it sounds like the fast bit is coming from next door.

Then as they pull up the mid, so the bass line in E flat minor kicks in (B, A flat then E flat) and they syncopate some of the electronic whooshes the the whole effect is like the oracle of commercial house music.
Ohmygod it makes me wet. Seriously.

I want to be in a club one day when someone plays this and I think I will burst into glitter.

11:08
Still imagining myself in a club when the DJ drops Kelly Rowland. The bit at 3'41 is a best moment to pull your T-shirt off slowly.
These thoughts are putting me in a very good mood.
(The tune is on Spotify - the Club Mix - if you dare)

14:36
At home again and going to have a snooze. Thank god the house is empty and there are no naked men with good bodies running around.
I have no idea why I think it's good that this isn't happening...

15:50
In the gym and Chris says the program is going well but that I need to stop putting dressing on the spinach and chicken breast I have for lunch.

I tell him it's really difficult and already I'm chewing my way through four packs of gum and two litres of sparkling water a day.

He shows no mercy.

16:02
Chris has another tip. Apparently after a no-carb lunch, brushing your teeth fools your something-or-other into thinking that you've eaten properly.

19:35
Like enough of Philip Olivier now.

Can all the gays please turn their obsession to Luke Guldan. I know I have...

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger. Seriously.

20:37
Sally says her and ? never actually shagged even though they were lying in bed naked together and occasionally he was running to the bathroom without any clothes on. I, for one, believe her.

22:45
I've cooked, cleaned up, sorted, packed, planned, transferred and I think I am going to retire to the bed facility. But shit, I never sent to sniff the leather jacket I want to buy.

This day has been a failure.

Saturday, 18 April 09

00:17
Cameron's a really lovely guy but again I find myself hiding in the broom cupboard under the stairs at his house.

He really needs to sit down and have a word with his housemate about his lifestyle choices.

I mean how much is there for me to discuss with a bloody Hoover?

00:24
Freedom!

I think that's enough for now...

11:02
Ya, spending 20 minutes crouched underneath the stairs isn't my idea of fun. There is only one solution...

11:12
Can't believe what I see while walking to gym. Is it a sign? Is it something sent from on high?
Is Cameron the one who's going to be coming on the road trip?

Remember this? Well, look what's parked in my path...

This is the car... nearly. It's a 3-litre straight six although we want the 500SL V8.

11:13
Because I take this as some sort of divine indication I have to stop and sit down on the wall near it. The Eagles must play on my iPod..

And I wanna sleep with you in the desert tonight
With a billion stars all around
Cos I've got a peaceful easy feeling...
etc.
13:54
Yes, I think we've had enough of hearing about Susan Boyle now actually.

14:47
Back in the Armani store in Westfield to smell the leather jacket I like because this is how I buy clothes.

I either buy them on a whim and then feel sorry for myself for spending so much on something I'm not sure about or I spend around 4 months, two weeks and 3 days making a decision which, in the end, I back out of.

£400 is sort of a lot but not much on an Armani jacket. It's beautiful.
I haven't yet taken a photo of it to lie in bed at night and look at. This will give me something to do tomorrow.

15:27
What the fuck am I doing at work? What er?! Oh yeah, I agreed to come in for a few pennies to do some extra work. So I guess I'd better do it.

15:32
In the Tesco debating whether to have a Lemon Curd Finest* yoghurt after my sushi lunch.

16:17
Yum, yum bubblegum, stick your finger up your bum. Lemon curd yoghurt after sushi tastes brilliant.

20:05
At home and looking for something to do even though:
1/ the gym bag needs emptying and repacking
2/ the laundry basket is groaning under the weight of dirty clothes
3/ the bedroom floor needs vacuuming
4/ the pile of filing I need to do in the lounge keeps sliding off the top of the bookcase because it's so high

20:07
Yes, I feel Season 5 of Curb Your Enthusiasm is just what I need on this warm but rather windy Saturday evening.

21:13
Reading in bed.

22:27
Preparing to go to bed and have a little ache inside that it's Saturday night, not yet 11pm and I am getting into my pyjamas. Outside the window I hear a train whistle, music wafting in on the breeze and people laughing.
London on a Saturday night happens around me. I am nothing.

22:35
It's not so bad because tomorrow, you'll be slouched and shit-faced in front of the TV with pizza, ice cream and a violated soul while I will be all smugs in the office pocketing extra coinage.

23:10
Text from Grant. "Hi - what's up?" I ignore it. Bla bla.

Thursday, 16 April 09

7:45
Standing on the edge about to dive in. Then I do.

08:01
Thirty lengths completed and I decide to get out. This is enough for the first double-day training.

9:02
I'm in GNC to buy some protein shake and damn the guy behind the counter. I end up spending £30 on some shit that will make me thin, cut and gorgeous. Allegedly.
Damn you hot man with cute face and huge arms, damn you.

11:10
In a meeting but am handed a note telling me that Emma is downstairs.
Emma has been reading some silly website called "Am Not Blog" and before I know it, we're having a chat about this particular site...

Emma is on holiday from California and is in London to see the sights. Like that crumbling palace where an old woman who wears a crown lives, some antiquated and dusty art at the British Museum and er, me. Go figure.

11:14
Talking to Emma and it is weird that there this lovely person who I've never met before but has seen me in my underwear and has read about er... well.

11:17
Emma has gifts (everynote please note and I'll say it again...) Emma has gifts!
One of which is a T-shirt from Budapest.

14:34
Back in the office and Alex says that everyone is now smitten with some guy called Rob Pattinson.

Personally, I'm not feeling it at all actually.

15:46
Am debating whether Minis are cars for male advertising executives who're in a mid-life crisis with a coke habit?

The more I look at it, the more I like it, the more I think I want one...

I feel I may be on a ledge and need talking down.

16:19
Tell the Office Manager Wizard (I love you) that I am going to be taking leave from June 3 to June 16th.
This puts me in a very good mood so I must now listen to the 08 Disco Edit of the Freemasons "When You Touch Me."
My mood is elevated further because baby, when you touch me on my bodyyyyyyyyyyy........ etc.

20:54
I'm sure that the guy who hangs around in the gym showers actually lives there. I might ask him actually...

21:21
Can I be dangerously middle class and recommend this book to you?

(I imagine recommending books to be very middle class because it's what mums and dads do around their dinner tables.)

The reason I think you'll like that book is because Marina Hyde is cynical and rude about celebrities and all their shit. Like these two little nuggets:

Marina on the rising popularity of Kabbalah: "The Little System of Bullshit that Could".
Marina on celebrity drug addiction: "The only fate worse for a celebrity with a drug habit is the threat they could be taken under Elton John's wing".

22:23
I'm not sure where or when I'm going to wear the T-shirt Emma gave me but it's hilarious nonetheless.

It is, of course, hugely ironic.

Wednesday, 15 April 09

07:11
Standing in the middle of Trafalgar Square on the phone.
It dawns on me that, according to the statistics, there are around a quarter of a million people in Cape Town listening to me speak. This is odd.

07:43
There are loads of South Africans standing in a long queue waiting to vote.
I have a picture. In some parts of the world this is box office.

Don't be afraid to ask. Yes, you can have another one.

09:39
An e-mail arrives from someone who responds when you speak the name Chris and this person Chris has very kindly written the following...

"I wanted to come and say hi to you but was too shy. Did take a picture of you and sent to some fellow readers though, sorry.
Hope you participated and didn't just work."

I assume Chris was standing in Trafalgar Square with me but a few hours earlier. I'm amused.

11:13
Scanning pictues to see if I can spot Chris and bingo! I have found this Chris person in the crowd. I can't believe my luck.
Can you spot him? This is like the gay Where's Wally
[Surely 'where's willy?' Ed.]



13:12
The sun is out in West London, it's glorious and we're sitting in the park having sushi.
Make that 'me' not 'we'. There's nothing worse than colleagues who insist on working when the sun's out.

13:17
Phone up Katie who I know has the day off so that I don't have to munch my Nigiri all alone.
And cue a chorus of Stradivari.
I thank you.

16:56
I'm at my desk and it appears that there's work being done. Except that the iPod I have on is the fatal flaw in what appears to be a productive picture.

18:24
I stagger onto the Tube. The effects of getting up at 4:50am after having only got into bed after midnight are taking their toll.

19:27
Being the most perfect housewife since that Bree Von Dutch from Desparate Midwives (?) because I am cooking tomorrow's lunch in the kitchen.
This includes grilling turkey, chopping spinach, boiling some pasta and stomping on the floor to piss the neighbours off.

I hate them. The neighbours are two guys, who're straight and all they ever do is watch Sky Sports News.

Oh yeah, and they seem to refuse to tie their fucking black bags which means the rubbish falls into the outside bins and we have to clean it up.
And we've asked them to think about tying the bloody bags and do they listen? No!

Lazy fucking football-mad, slovenly lay-about tossers.

21:51
An apology
In a previous post about the neighbours who live downstairs, I may have given the impression that the two gentleman weren't quite up to the standard that we, above them, expect.

Sentences such as "the fucking arseholes below" or "those dip-stick wankers" could have given you, the reader, the impression that were less-than-enamored with the pair downstairs.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

In fact the two fine, upstanding gentleman who - we are so lucky to have live below us - are giving, generous, charitable and probably good in bed.

I say this just in case you were in any doubt due to any previous statement you may have read.

(FYI: Sally, my housemate, just went down and they've given her a roll of loo paper cos we've run out and no-one can be bothered to go to the shop).

22:23
Oh yeah, and they don't always watch Sky Sports News.

Because of where they've situated their TV, I can tell that they watch The Apprentice too.

What a cultured pair!

22:34
Me. out.

Tuesday 14 April 09

08:47
Don't you love it when you're travelling on the Central Line, between Lancaster Gate and Queensway and you find an unexpected gem of a song on your iPod that you'd forgotten about?
Today that song is "Been Around the World" by Puff Daddy and the Family.
God I'm so phat.

10:46
Today I am on a new eating regime and oh shit, I'm a minute late for my protein shake. Ping! Add milk and shake.
(One day the lid is going to fly off, I swear...)


11:21
Surfing the web looking at club pictures from Cape Town and happen upon this photo.

I have blanked out what's on either side to concentrate your mind on the middle.

If anyone knows who this is will they please tell him that I'm keen to get hitched for life and ever and ever.

Perfect symmetry, good teeth, a tan and kinda looks like an older and more human version of Ashton Kutcher, don't you think?

I'm not 100% sure about the facial hair but we all know that relationships are about compromise (i.e. he's going to have to compromise and shave).

Were you in the lesbo-homo Beulah bar this weekend in Cape Town? Male me.

Of course if it's you in the picture and you get offended, come and beat me. And wear cellophane.

13:00
Ping! And it's lunchtime which today is torn strips of grilled turkey and spinach. Tastes like cardboard and tissue paper.

14:41
In Westfield. Or to be more precise, in Armani Exchange in Westfield. Some nice leather jackets and they're not that expensive. I'm pondering.

15:13
In Sports Direct contemplating a club outfit for later this year. Tightey white PT shorts, rugby socks and a vest with wrist bands.
I'm going to have to test drive this look at some point I feel. Feeling and pondering.

18:39
What's this!? I'm on the Jubilee Line travelling northward. Oh well.

20:22
I love that the guy in the gym who's trying not to look actually ends up staring.

22:35
Andrew and Kevin have a webcam in their office which is great because it usually that means I get a lovely view of Table Mountain while sat here in London.

The view should look like vaguely like this:

However, I am forced to email both Andrew and Kevin.

Guys, it doesn't work when you leave the office and forget to turn the lights off. Thanks.

23:07I could be all highbrow and say that I'm going to bed to relax and devour a few chapters of François-René de Chateaubriand (untranslated).

The sad truth is that I'm really off to spend about 7 minutes, just me and XTube.

Monday 13 April 09

10:43
Wake up and there it is.

11:23
I get a text from Davey saying it was nice to see me.
"Nice to see you last night - let's do it again sometime ;-)"

I think I'm going to have to explain this.

So Andrew, who lives in Cape Town, has Pro Bono Thursday which means that every Thursday he makes an effort to see people who he doesn't really want to.

The thinking is that doing so puts good karma into the world and means that in return you'll get to spend time with people whose company you enjoy.

I have adapted this brilliant idea except mine isn't Pro Bono Thursday but Pro Bono Bonking.

Davey is really sweet, he's lovely, he's from Cambridge, he's clever, he's into classic literature and he's 22.

He's not really my type and he's still half in the closet, his housemate and best friend who was away, is in the Army which is why, for him, it's a welcome treat.

Davey likes to call every-so often to arrange it. I like call it Pro Bono Bonking.

14:23
All I ever seem to do is put dirty clothes into the fucking washing machine fuck.

15:17
I'm filling my water bottle up in the gym and around the corner I can hear that one of the songs they play during boxercise class in the gym is Beat It.
God help us.

15:41
Doing an extra 50 sit-ups so that I will get the chance to reclaim my good Pro Bono karma by finally becoming naked in a confined space with Damon.

15:52
There's nothing hotter than two straight meatheads arguing about who has the better sixpack. Especially when they insist on physical comparisons.

16:37
It's parked there again outside the gym, taunting me. Reminding me that my 30 years on this planet have come to nothing and that I am useless, inept and ugly because I don't own one.

Seeing this kind of machinery parked in my path makes me ache physically and emotionally.

18:17
Hanging out the washing fuck.

21:47
Do you know how difficult it is to try and write this while my housemate is in front of me exercising her bloody triceps?

And I wish she'd close the bloody curtains when doing it.

And yes, I know - the mirror on the left needs hanging up.

And you can't ask who Damon is just yet.

Sunday 12 April 09

10.17
Ohmygod my housemate has a gentleman in her room, I can hear them talking as I walk to the bathroom.

It usually pisses me off if they're hot.

10.31
In the kitchen putting tuna in a baguette and oh.my.god this male guest we have in the house walks in. Imagine this picture:

Okay, so the guy standing in the kitchen who my housemate's brought home? He has absolutely NOTHING in common with the guy in the picture above.

Weedy, lanky, pasty with very hairy arms. I get mini-throw up reflux.

11:13
Housemate admits that Dr Steve, who's thankfully gone, hasn't been her finest moment.

13:17
Have finally learnt an Andrew Dice Clay nursery rhyme off by heart so that I can recite it at parties when the room goes quiet.
In your best Brooklyn accent:
Little Bo Peep fucked a sheep
Blew a horse and licked his feet
She ate his ass, so very nice
and tongued his balls not once but twice.
14:27
Nap time.

19:19
Watching Grease on TV, goddam that Sandy is a frigid bitch.

They're at the drive-in and Danny puts his arm around her and she freaks out, slams the door on his cock and stomps off calling his car a "sin wagon". He didn't even touch her boob!

Also, Danny and his crew constantly make fun of the jocks. What the fuck? Who would you rather dragged you around the back of the bike shed? The incredible hulk (jocks) or some guy in leather who constantly bursts into song (Danny and friends)?

Here's a quick guide to help you decide:



20:57
I think that this website is brilliant.
(Don't look at it if you're at the office)

And so in honour of it I decide to make my own picture but the results are horrifying. I'm still work in progress for summer so unfortunately things must be pixellated.

All I'm willing to give is one little section of bicep that needs some serious bulk on it.

The worrying thing is that a friend of mine who takes photos for a living says he'll take some pictures of me on June 1st.

I plan to be in my underwear for these pictures so shit-balls, there's a lot of work to do.

I would love to stay and chat but I'm going to do sit-ups, eat soup and then throw up.

Saturday 11 April 09

00:52
We're around Adam's lounge table and I have had some glasses of red wine. I don't mind this because I've set aside a few hours from the gym.

04:18
I say to Adam that I think it's time for me to go home because talk amongst the rest of group has turned to Vauxhell. One guy who's name I don't remember (sorry) says it's a pity I'm going home.
This is the first thing he has said to me directly all evening.
I think to myself "I wish you'd made the effort to engage me before now - but it's not my loss buddy..."

04:33
Their cabs arrive but I decide to walk home. It's only a 20-minute stroll.

04:42
It's me, the nightbuses and the Freemasons' After Hours Remix of "Rain Down Love", a song with one of the laziest bass-lines you've ever heard.

05:17
Lying in bed and can't sleep and the sun is coming up.

05:19
I might as well text even though I know I shouldn't.
"I said I wouldn't go out but I did. Just got in so that means you win the bet!"
What I mean to say is "I'm missing you so very much right now."

09:14
Ping! ping! Bloody beep beep ping, ping!
"Hello Bobby, it's your mother. Why are you asleep at this hour? Just to let you know that your father's completed his 10th Two Oceans Marathon so please make sure you phone and congratulate him."

09:42
Ping! ping! Ring! Fucken beep beep.
"Bob. Are you going to the Gay Supermarket tonight? Call me."
Does nobody ever fucking sleep-in, for fucks' sake.

10:21
Ping! Ring! Beep. Fuck!
"Bob, where are you? Are you joining us at XXL tonight?"

10:23
The idea that anyone on a Saturday morning would lie in obviously has escaped everyone. Admit defeat, plug the fucking switchboard in and wait for the next goddam phone-call that would have woken me up.

14:27
Nothing.

18:33
It's after 6pm, I'm tired and exhausted. I put on Airplane! for a laugh.

23:27
Depressed, upset, emotional, neurotic and pathetic. Low is the opposite of high. Besides, since my text at 5am, I've heard nothing.

23:29
Talk amongst yourself, I'm going to bed.

Thursday 09 April 09

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Wednesday 08 April 09

07:15
Wake up to the klaxon sound of the iPhone alarm clock. It's like having a sock full of pig shit slapped across your dreams.

08:23
After battling the Hellfire Line to Bond Street. I am in GNC buying today's protein intake where TFMC* is. Obviously he doesn't know this yet.
I ask him to recommend a good drink to consume while working out to keep my energy levels up but what I mean is to ask him is if can we both take our clothes off, will he lie on me?
(* = The Future Mr Cox)

10:17
Thank God for the marketing gays who are obviously beavering away at Adidas in New Zealand. Who else could be responsible for this?
Note to self: Must buy Adidas.

11.36
Find out that this guy in the office has shagged the woman who runs the coffee cart near the lifts.
The poor woman's come all the way from Warsaw to London only to have the office slime-bag froth her mocha latte. Ugly.

12.32
Tesco or Westfield? Tesco or Westfield? I choose Tesco.

14.34
At my desk working very hard, work which includes deciding on a friend request, yes or no? Debating whether to go to XXL on Sunday? Trying to find information about changing the iPhone alarm clock ring to Rape Me by Nirvana.

19.01
Have worked far longer than I should so pack up and leave.

19:04
Whoops! I'm not getting into that carriage when I spot Mr January 2004 sitting reading a book. He didn't spot me.
He'd say "you never phoned me", I'd say "dude - you were way too clingy."

19:47
Changing in the gym. Hot guy. Never seen before. Amazing body. Bla bla.

20:14
I knew I shouldn't have but drink the protein shake and then do abs. Cue mini vomit bonanza.

20:51
Walking home from gym and this torn and tatty shopping bag is lying in the gutter.

The bag is crying out to me.
"This is not what I signed for!" "Where's the life that's supposed to be filled with clothes dripping off hot sixpack preppy boys?" "I'm from Saville Row goddamit, why am I in the gutter?"

I step over it and carry on.

21:27
I learn that some fuck-wad is trying to sink his talons into someone I have my eye on.
This irritates me only slightly of course and I make no considerations for any violent revenge should things turn out badly for me.
I put on Marilyn Manson to soothe myself.
The songs I whistle along to include:
1/ Get Your Gunn
2/ Use Your Fist And Not Your Mouth
3/ The Fight Song

Don't feel left out, you can sing along too. All together now...

Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!There you see, easy.

22:12
(More fucking money Apple are going to owe me for this punt...)
With iTunes, GarageBand and an iPhone you can give yourself bespoke alarm clock sounds. So tomorrow morning I shall very calmly arise from my delicate slumber with Kurt screaming RAPE ME, RAPE ME, RAPE ME.

For now though it's nearly beddy-byes time. I may also just very quickly investigate shot guns on the black market.

Tuesday 07 April 09

8.52
Waking up later and later. Luxury.

9.21
Walking in to the gym and hear a song that shakes me to my very core. It's Ronan Keating butchering Cyndi Lauper's Time After Time.

The point of this song is a brittle Cyndi singing about the memories of a past relationships, not the boorish and vainglorious Ronan Keating warbling. I imagine he sings it with his fists clenched and his eyes shut.

I make a mental note to ostracize anyone from now on who admits to owning anything to do with this idiot. Some things are supposed to be sacred you tosser.

10.17
Manage 8 reps of bicep hammers with 42lb on each arm.
This is because the only thing I want in life one of the things I want in life are guns like these...
Over-sized biceps make you interesting to talk to, a hit at parties and kind to animals.

11.52
In Sainsbury's for the traditional post work-out shop for the day's food. Spot this in the place where they sell mashed up fruit in cardboard containers...

Have you ever heard of yumberries?!

No matter what berries go into these drinks (dingleberries even?) it's odd how they always end up tasting like strawberry and banana. Have you ever eaten some exotic food that doesn't taste like chicken? I ponder this question for 4 seconds.

14.27
Spend 33 minutes on the phone to The Boy On the Right in South Africa.

He's having a midlife crisis just as everyone does a few weeks before their birthday. The mid-twenties can be a real bummer. Wait until he hits 30. I don't say that to him though.

15.53
Afternoon nap time has slipped a bit even though I budget a whopping 37 minutes for this activity.

16.38
Stick on a load of washing. Whites.

19.36
Asking myself the question everyone else is asking themselves, where will you be in 2019?
I can't even guarantee to you that I will still be alive. I really do hope I am.
Will you still be here? Will this blog still be here? Will I be in London? Will you still know me?

How's this for profound? I'm only scared about the future because of what's past.

Imagine being able to say that in ten years I'll be married to a wonderful lady and have two young kids, a Volvo and a golden retriever named Sandy. And then hell freezes over. Thinking about this topic makes me anxious and depressed so I leave it.

20.34
Watch three episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm Season 3. Particularly the episode where Susie accuses Larry of getting her kid drunk. This is TV gold.

22.35
Consider beddy-byes and dreams of 2019. I get a glass of water and some warm towels incase I wake up screaming and sweating.