- Was achieved.

Let me explain, Binky.

All the presents had been opened, Christmas dinner had been served and an ad-hoc game of poker had been won.

I was forty quid up.

The brother had gone to deliver presents to his girlfriend (and soon to be fiance) and the parents had gone to have tea with the older sibling and niece.

And I was all alone in the house.

It was 6.55pm and the feeling of anticipation had been growing all day.

I kicked back in the leather recliner and cranked up the volume to eleven.

And at 7.00pm on BBC1, on Christmas Day 2005 we were introduced to the tenth Doctor, David Tennent.

And he was good.

I had had reservations as Christopher Eccleston had done such a sterling job in the role and the little I had seen of David Tennant had left me with doubts.

As the credits rolled I nolonger had doubts, just a genuine feeling of excitement for what I had just watched and for the forthcoming season.

And I had watched it undisturbed and in the glow of the fire and christmas tree lights, with a brandy and mince pie.

Well, two mince pies.

I'm walking back from the pub with my younger brother Jason.

It's christmas eve and there is a heavy, dense, fog that creates an atmosphere of a fairy tale, which is entirely fitting for the night.

As we walk down the country lane, naked tree's are illuminated like skeletons as the odd car drives carefully passed us.

We've had a good night, beer and vodka in font of a fire and a christmas cd on the jukebox that has repeated too many times.

Each song beating us into submission to have a good time at christmas no matter what,the irony being that the likes of Roy,Noddy and Cliff actually make christmas unbearable.

Oh Cliff, when are you going to come out of the closet?

So my brother tells me that he wants to tell me something, but it has to be secret.

Okay I say. My curiosity piqued.

Christ, maybe I'm not the only Mary in the family after all.

How uncomfortable would that be?

So after a lot of reassurance from me he tells me that he is taking his girlfriend off to Sweden for New Years.

And?

Why all the secerecy I wonder.

He goes on to say that once in Sweden, they will fly out to the Ice hotel in Oslo (?) and he hopes to ask her to marry him under the northern lights.

Fucking Wow.

He's planned everything down to the last detail and the only other person to know is my mother.

Wow again.

We have not always got along and I'm as much to blame for that as he his, in fact I am probably more to blame.

Middle child syndrome.

Yadda yadda. I've dealt.

And I felt quite proud that he had confided in me and it was a measurement how far we had come as brothers.

And what a romantic gesture to make!

He has been going out with his girlfriend for nearly ten years now.

Which is longer than most straight marriages.

And about ten times as long as the average homo relationship.

He's a great guy and I hope he gets to ask the question under the magnificent light show of the aurora.

She'll say yes.

I know it.

It wasn't Man City, lazer brain.

It was the other one...

YOU figure it out.

Sheesh! I have to do all the work around here!

I watched 'Manhatten' recently and the opening sequence of the New York skyline in black and white set 'Rhapsody in Blue' is the most amazing film moment I think I have ever seen.

I saw the film when I was in my teens but I don't remember it having such a profound effect on me.

It was jaw droppingly gut wrenchingly bittersweet,enhanced by the voice over from Woody Allen.

Woody's da bomb.

I tend to stumble across things.

Movies, books, comics..whatever.

I stumbled across a comic called 'Marvel Zombies'

Man this is a hoot!

Imagine your favourite Avengers, all zombies and Magneto is the only human.

But he doesn't last long before he's on the menu and the likes of the Hulk, Thor,Capt America and Spiderman chow down on MagnetoBurrito!!

The best is the Hulk, he takes a whole leg and then turns back into David Banner.

The leg being too big for his non-hulk sized stomach promptly burst through!!!

But that's not the end of it.

Thor starts to eat the leg as it hangs out of Banner!!

Frickin' hilarious!

Chinese Kareoke.

The office and a couple of other departments went out for christmas dinner and drinks on Saturday night.

We didn't go abnywhere too fancy, but the food was good and the beer flowed, a good time was had by all.

And I thought at one point during a privare, reflective moment, that these were good people.

The best.

There was a secret santa, and for mine I bought an ashtray that boldy proclaims ''I love fags''.

If you have the means I suggest you invest in one, they are so choice.

Toward the end of the night one of the concierge tried to round up recruits to go along to a chinese kareoke.

The mind boggles.

I'm sitting at work and I'm thinking on my canadian friend.

I know he's going to have a dull christmas as he is not going to family this year, for reasons that are not fair to mention here.

And I like this guy, when we chat via Yahoo, I enjoy it.

We shoot the shit and often he'll send over a profile from bearwww or bear411, remarking on how lame some of these guys are.

For example, guys who use any of the following phrases in their profile should be avoided like a used condom in a nunnery;

''I don't bite...only if you ask'' LAME

''I'm drama free..so you be too'' LAME

A simple ''GRRRRRRRR'' LAME (your not a real bear asshole..use words!!)

But the absolute worst, the lowest of the low, bottom of the barrel when no more can be scraped is a picture of a sexy, bear guy holding a dog/cat with the following caption;

''Me with my/our babies''

Holy Fuck.

If I was hard for the guy before, I'm limp after reading that shit.

Anyway, I'm thinking on him and I have a pretty crap christmas card to send across the Atlantic and I'm kinda embarassed by it 'cause this little piece of folded card isn't going to make him feel better.

Somebody puts their head into the office and announces that the 'group' will be arriving shortly.

The group.

Inspiration strikes.

I pick up the card and leave the office and walk over to our security guy and ask him for a special favour as he is familiar with the 'group'.

He agrees, even though it would break one of the unwritten rules of the hotel.

Later when the card is returned to me I look upon the signatures it now carries.

WOW.

I write my own dedication and seal it in the envelope and hurry to the post office.

So the worst was this;

1999 Dublin, Ireland.

I've been in the country less than a month and I'm crashing on the floor of 2 friends of mine, Cormac and Natalie.

Literally on the floor as the flat was so tiny.

Cormac was a bit of an Irish tearaway and Natlie was the quintessential english rose, very proper.

She still had a pony at her fathers farm in Essex.

They've gone home to Nat's parents in England so I have the flat to myself.

I wake at three after sleeping the day, recovering from a busy night shift at the Berkely Court Hotel.

A night filled with drunks and abuse.

I was night manager.

Anyway...

I have no food in the house so I pour a bowl of 'Coco Pops'.

I sit down and as I do I catch my reflection in the window opposite and I wish myself Merry Christmas.

I dare not think of all the festivities at home right now, of the Turkey dinner my mother would have cooked, with the crispiest roast potatoes...

I turn the TV on and munch on the cereal.

And the best was this;

2004 Manchester, England.

The goose was nice. It tasted sweet, like duck, but richer.

The hotel restaurant was not busy at all and we all sat down to a nice lunch.

My mother and stepfather were stayng in the hotel and I allocated them a Penthouse.

One of the perks of working Christmas.

After lunch and coffee we all retired to the suite to exchange presents - mine had been bought in a rush the day before.

Thank you, Debenhams.

We had drinks and beers, played a few hands of cards.

At about 8pm it began to snow and in one of those very rare moments of family harmony, we sat in the penthouse on the fourteenth floor and watched the snow gently drift down over Manchester on Christmas day.

n

Doodling.

I doodle.

I sit in meetings and while the agenda is being conquered, topic by topic, i sit there quietly and doodle.

I doodle the same thing.

Superman's 'S' or a Viper from Battlestar Galactica.

My range is limited to say the least.

So I'm doodling this afternoon in the weekly HOD meeting and we're discussing this and that, all related to the hotel and the business for next week.

We briefly touch upon the recent employee survey that we have carried out, as have all the hotels in the group.

Out of 190 employee's there is maybe three people who have not done it and the LONDON GUY comes out with a doozee.

Thats right, Binky, a doozee.

The sage wisdom he offers in terms of a solution to completing the last three surveys is to ''fabricate them''.

The asshole.

Shall we commit fraud at the same time?

I just rolled my eyes and continued to doodle, smiling to myself.

I walked through Albert Square, passing by the little European market that comes to Manchester every year.

I weaved in and out of the stalls, passed the crafts and mulled wine only to stop by a confectioners stand.

I wasn't interested in the sweets, but more the man making them.

He was a big, bolshy guy.

Dressed in an apron,kneading some dough with huge hands.

His smile was warm and mischevious, his voice gently melodic as he spoke to a colleague.

And the I saw the earring and my interest in him grew slightly.

I could imagine kissing those big full lips and taking in his ruddy cheeks in my hands as I did so.

Slowly undressing him and getting lost in every kiss.

As I watched him work a small woman came over handing him a coffee and she kissed him tendrely on the cheek.

The wife.

I moved along, hoping hat she appreciated such a fine. fine thing.

So today is a big day for those of us who 'garden uphill'.

Gay marriage.

How far have we come since the Stonewall riots of the sixties?

And for the record,

Screw the Catholic Church.

Screw the bigots and the rascists.

Screw the small minded idiots I pass by each day.

We're equal now.

It's the law.

Deal with it.

This is the difference, so listen up.

When a guy goes on a date with a woman, after drinks, dinner and more drinks he might get laid.

Might.

Depends on her, really.

If a guy goes out with a guy, after drinks, dinner and more drinks getting laid is not in question.

They already have.

Get it?

Hey, Binky.

Binkster.

Binky old chum.

Getting any?

No, me either.

Anyway, I digress.....

I was privileged to meet a fellow blogger yesterday and I guess I was a little quiet in her presence as I usually am with people who are way more talented than me.

I'm just in awe.

She has a blog that is read by thousands , a published writer and a succesful stand up comic...very talented.

I did her a small favour and in return she gave me a copy of her book which I shall read.

And enjoy immensely.

Anytime your in Manchester Janey, let me know.

And lets have a coffee next time.

I'm sitting opposite the Mortgage Guy, he's filling out forms and I'm signing them.

Whats left of my youth is being erased with every stroke of biro on paper, of every signature I write.

We get to the Life Insurance policy and we go through the questions until we get to the gay question.

''Are you in a group that is at high risk from HIV''.

He lists them.

''Bi-sexuals''

No, I reply

''Intravenous drug users''

Again , no.

''Homosexuals'

I take a sip of my coffee and look out if the window and across the street.

I look at him as he looks over his glasses, detecting my hesitation.

''Sorry''I say ''No''.

After I had said goodbye to him I went for walk outside the hotel, the question and my answer rolling around in my head.

I felt a little ashamed that I had lied.

I had lied about one of my defining characteristics, compromised a small part of my dignity and pride.

Whilst I had the courage to be open at work, to my friends and family, to join in the Pride celebrations, my courage escaped in front of a little grey man in a little grey suit on wet Monday afternoon.

This is too much!

Go build your own South Park character!!

http://spstudio.elena.hosting-friends.de/spstudio.html

A roaring fire in a house in County Claire, 1999.

I sat down for a hearty meal of beef and potatoes with a guy called JP. He was a priest stationed in Florida but had returned home for a month or so.

Of course he was gay.

Aren't they all in Ireland?

We had spent the afternoon driving around Claire and I remember how alien the landscape was in certain parts.

Pools of glass like still water broke up the rocky and barren landscape, a perfect mirror for the clouds hanging in the clear blue sky above.

Over dinner JP told me of his love for a guy in Australia and how he had been broken heated when the guy met somebody else.

I sympathised, but didn't dare ask whre the relationship could have gone due to the dim view the church has of homo's.

We finished dinner and moved into the lounge and sat together in front of the roaring fire.

The silences were puntuated by the crackling of the logs feeding the hungry flames.

After the polite conversation was exhausted his hand came over to my knee and after a moment of plite fumbling later we began to kiss.

First a little awkwardly and then passionately.

Clothes began to be discarded and we were both naked,and he was magnificant.

In every way, if you get my drift.

I came up for air after tasting him over and over and he asked me what I wanted.

I told him.

We killed the lights and put a rug on the floor in front of the fire and we continued to make love.

When it felt right I sat across him and took him into myself.

In those few minutes of physicality and grunting I felt the euphoria of the release and we began to calm down.

I slipped down his body and into his waiting arms and lay together in the warming glow of the fire, at peace with one another and the whole world.

It was a nice moment.

I remembered this today when I looked at a house I subsequently put an offer on.

When I entered the house the fire was roaring and the room was warm and welcoming.

I paused for a second looking deep into the flames letting the embers ignite a memory of a time past, and one I want to recreate in the future when that house becomes my home.

Happy Birthday to me.

What does 'Many Happy Returns' mean anyway?

There's this weird fog that has enveloped Manchester.

It's prety dense, when you look up anything above the fourth storey is engulfed by the whiteness.

When I was a kid, I would pretend that fog was that weird anti-matter cloud that ate through the DC multiverse in 'Crisis on Infinite Earths', eating hero's and villains alike.

I imagined it had reached this Earth and all the hero's had perished with only me left to fight it.

Now it's just fog.

Life's like that sometimes.

http://www.abearslifemag.com/html/featart.html

Way to go, Dude.

Now I just need to find me a husband...

So I could have had him.

The club was full and smokey,the darkness intercut with the dazzle of the lights, the beat of the music resonating and vibrating everything and everybody.

Topless torso's proudly displaying their tribal flags moved to the beat and let the beat move them,young and old, fat and thin, hairy and smooth united in worship of the disco diva.

All hail the fallen and raised again Madonna.

He came past me, my body brushing against his in the madonning crowd, he past me and paused and looked back.

He looked at me and smiled, a bright smile that complimented his handsome features and handsome good looks.

He was an above average looking guy, his dark hair hinting at an Italian or Spanish descent.

He had a muscular physique, a body honed and toned to it's subjective perfection.

He smiled again and without words I apologised to him.

Sorry.

If nothing else , this weekend has allowed me the pleasure of hanging out with a close and dear friend.

Somebody I care about, in my own way.

We'll call him Spanishbear.

You know who you are.

Thanks, handsome.

I learned back in my office chair and wondered what it was going to take.

What is it going to take for me to wise up and stop taking the crap from the LONDON GUY.

Earlier in the day one of my guys - Helen - asked me for some advice.

She had an issue.

Her issue was this;

HORSEFACE is a manager and not a particularly effective one. Never completes her work, often gets it wrong, cuts every corner.

Case in point.

One day she was Duty Manager and left two hours early. Didn't do the required floor check.

Next day at the morning meeting she was asked about it and lied, then when that lie was exposed -in front of the HOD team- lied again.

This was in front of the BOSS.

Anyway.

Last weekend she was caught leaving a guest room where she had spent the night.

This is a big no-no.

We class it as gross misconduct.

So she gets caught and gets a warning.

Back to today.

Helen says to me that if it had been anybody else they would have been dismissed, but because HORSEFACE and the LONDON GUY are such close friends, she got off relatively lightly.

She says that this is not fair, she wants to talk to somebody about it.

I suggest she talk to HR, the LONDON GUY or the BOSS.

She said she cannot talk to the LONDON GUY or HR.

So that leaves the BOSS.

I tell her that if she chooses to talk to the BOSS then she should do it in a respectful manner.

Then off I went to lunch.

When I returned I was confronted by the LONDON GUY and we went outside to talk, he was pretty angry that Helen had chosen to talk to the BOSS and the BOSS had asked him to find out the full story.

It got pretty heated between us -as it usually does- and he asked me if I had put her up to it.

As if.

He was quick to blame me, that made me angry.

I went back into the hotel, unsure of what bullshit he had been feeding the BOSS.

And I would love to talk to him about this kind of stuff, but I feel it's true trivial.

But I'm also angry that he puts so much trust in the LONDON GUY, and listens to him so much.

Reflecting now, I think Helen had balls of steel.

Maybe she can lend them to me sometime and I can have that difficult conversation with the BOSS.

Of the people I've talked to about turning thirty, they all said it was traumatic.

Not for me.

I sailed through it without a care.

Turning thirty five,now that was a kick in the balls.

I can remember clearly around this time last year with the impending birthday only a couple of weeks away that I began to feel a little anxiety.

I would reflect in my quieter moments on my life and all aspects left feeling underwhelmed.

If we each had a report card for our lives, mine would read 'Could SHOULD do better'.

The birthday came and went quite quietly and that was fitting to how I was feeling.

Now I face turning thirty six and although my anxiety hasn't completely gone it has abated.

On the whole I am loving my thirties, I have more money and I know myself better.

It's like having the keys to the sweet shop but knowing when to stop eating the sweets before you puke.

But,

I SHOULD be doing better, I should be achieving more.

So why aren't I??

I've just watched 'Revenge of the Jedi Sith' for the gazillionth time.

Yes Binky, that is a real number.

I don't care what anybody says,I like it.

I feel the same about this Star Wars movie as I do about 'The Empire Strikes Back'.

Wow. Just thinking about 'Empire' has got me all nostalgic.

I saw that movie for the first time at the Gaumont cinema in Birmingham.

On Snow Hill.

Sadly the Gaumont is no longer there, but it was a cinema in the traditional sense, with a huge lobby and big, ornate staircase with a huge chandelier in the centre that lead up to the seats in the circle.

It was really something, almost majestic in appearance.

Damn the city council for demolishing it and building some crummy insurance building.

We queued around the back of the cinema (I was with my nother and stepfather)and slowly inched forward.

It must have been summer because it was light in the evening.

Once inside I was fascinated by a glass display case with a model of the Millenium Falcon with lights and a tiny Han Solo shooting at some equally tiny stormtroopers.

I looked at every detail.

Even now I look at models for along time, fascinated by every line, every decal, every part of the surface

That movie blew me away more than the first Star Wars.

And Jedi just left me empty.

Ewoks. Why George, why??

5 days to go until The Pre-Hibernation bear event in Manchester.

Yes, Binky, the bears are coming out to play.

Lock up the fathers of your sons and daughters!

The Outpost will be bursting at the seams with some of the sexiest hairiest guys, overflowing into the club next door for some boogeying.

Yes, we can dance.

Bears.

I'm proud to be one, proud not to conform to the sterotype of a gay man, to be big, hairy, happy,masculine.

Content to let everybody be who they want to be.

And if you don't like it

Well, tough shit.

I'm not asking for your approval.

I got this friend in Canada.

He's having a tough time at the moment, he's freelance and the work isn't there.

I get the impression the belt has been tightened.

And thats cool, we all have those moments where the outgoings are higher than the incomings.

I haven't known him long but I feel I have known him years, I find him easy to talk to you and a pleasure to listen too.

So I'm asking, if your reading this -whoever you are I like you already-to send a little positive mojo his way.

He could use it.

And I would appreciate it.

It was like a scene out of a movie.

I stepped out onto the terrace of the OxO tower restaurant after having enjoyed a fabulous meal and breathed in the cool night air.

I had a Bellini in one hand and a cigar in the other.

I took a deep drag and watched the smoke dance to the heavens.

The lights from the river riplled and shimmered with the Thames.

I toasted St Pauls across the river, looking spectacular and palatial under the spotlights.

Below on the river a boat sailed past full of party goers dancing the night away.

Another drag.

Life felt good.

And then, just then, when all was right with the world the sky exploded with fireworks.

Scarlet and silver flowers blooming the night sky.

Magical.

The first ten episodes of Battlestar Galactica season 2 on dvd for a tenner.

Including postage.

Okay, it's only one reason,but a good one.

I think it's dumb that DVD's are released on a Monday.

They should be released on a Friday, so you have them for the weekend.

To avoid this, when I was living in London and again this weekend, I head down to the Cinema Store on St Martin's Lane as they usually have Mondays releases for sale on the Saturday.

So coming back on the train this afernoon I was happy to while away the tedious three hour journey but watching Episode III on the portable dvd player.

Lesser mortals cannot buy it until tomorrow.

You can call me Sir Smugalot from the town of Smugsville in Smugshire.

So George Takei, 'Star Treks' Mister Sulu has come out as gay.

He's had a partner for the last eighteen years and said he came out after Arn-ult vetoed a bill legalising gay marriage in California.

California has The Teminator as there Governor, Binky!..Sometimes I worry!

Good on you, Goerge!

I'm sitting on the tube on Saturday, at Chancery Lane station.

I've gone ahead of the rest of the crowd so I can do a little shopping before going to the OXO tower for dinner.

I'm sitting on the tube minding my own business, but looking at everybody around me and deciding if I would have sex with this guy or that guy (or both!).

The majority were definate 'no's' and one I would, but only if I was desperate/bored or if there was nothing on TV on a wet wednesday afternoon.

So I look out the window at all the people rushing by and I see this one guy (a'no') and he looks at me.

Then he sticks his toungue out.

And then rushes past.

What the Fuck?

There's this guy in New York -an artist- and he came under fire from DC Comics this month for the way he has portrayed Batman and Robin - as a couple of fags.

Have a look:

Nothing new here huh? Certain quarters always claimed there was a certain subbbtext to B and R, but I'm confused.

Is the above image supposed to be acceptable to me because I'm as gay as the artist (well, maybe gayer after a few vodka's...) because, well, it isn't.

And this mild compared to the other paintings.

Taking a pop culture icon and trashing it for the sake of sensationalism is lazy and lacks any kind of creativity or originality.

And it's not particularly well painted either.

And yes Binky, I can say fag, I'm reclaiming it.