There's one moment.

One moment out of millions of millions.

Your in the club, the music is bouncing and you down your 10th/11th/12th vodka.

It doesn't matter, nobody's counting.

All around you are men.

Big men,small men, hairy men,smooth men,bearded, gotee,boyish,black,white - men.

Beutiful, wonderful men.

The alcohol enters the blood stream and journeys to the brain, iginiting the neural pathways, heightening your senses.

You hear the music and your move to it.

You take out a small brown bottle, unscrew the lid and inhale.

The amyl enters your lungs, the blood stream and hits the brain taking the heightened senses to the stratosphere.

Then you begin to feel the music, you smell the flesh around you, the sweat hanging in the air mixed with the scent of leather from those who are harnessed.

It's erotic beyond words.

You feel the music.

And for one moment, just one small moment, all the elements come together in euphoria.

Drink,amyl, music, lights,smell,taste come together and merge.

And just as quickly, it's gone,

''I saw Mr Grace at breakfast this morning'' I tell the BOSS.
He looks up from his PC. ''And that definately wasn't his wife''

I had spied the young, slightly chubby, bearded gentlemen taking breakfast with an older, bearded gentlemen with a shaved head and glasses.

I was referring to the eponymous Mr Grace who had checked in the night before.

We had been warned about him.

He traded as some kind of hotel consultant/critic.

Services which, we as a company would never availe upon.

He was also persistant, pompous and downright irritating.

He was pedantic and quite pretentious.

A pretentious pedant perhaps?

Enough of this pleonasm.

You get the picture.

You have probably encountered his sort.

The kind of person who holds up a freshly buffed knife to the light before proclaiming it smeared. Teaspoons have to match and be placed facing the right way.

Since it was known to us that he was coming he had tried every route available to him to secure a complimentary upgrade to one of the Penthouses.

This had been neatly dodged by a consistent line of bullshit on our behalf that they were occupied when in fact they were empty.

The BOSS looked at me.

It must have been a very high place because it took longer than usual for the penny to drop.

''Oh I see'' he said, a smile starting to form on his lips ''maybe he's one of your lot''

''I think we can safely say that'' said I

''No, I mean...one of your lot, you know, in the woods....''

Bless him, he does try.

Sarah Jane Smith returns to Dr Who on Saturday and I cannot wait.

I've been waiting for this episode more than I have the upcoming Cyberman story.

Why? Well Binky,I'll tell you.

I remember Sarah Jane from the first time around.

Saturday afternoons watching Dr Who, not from behind the sofa but with a cushion to hide behind in case it got too scary.

And it usually did for my five year old self.

Zygons, Morbius, the Mummies, the Wyrrn...

She always got posessed, was always screaming...but fiesty as well.

She reminds me of that small chapter of childhood where it was just my father,my brother and myself.

My mother had walked out of the marriage -literally- and in her absence we had become quite a tight little unit.

I remember vividly the smell of my fathers cardigan as he gave me piggybacks around the living room, or fighting with my brother on the floor.

I always lost.

Well, d'uh!

Or pretending to be out as the Man from Pru knocked on the door for that weeks money that we didn't have.

I know it's geeky but watching the Doctor and Sarah defeat the Daleks, or Sutekh or whoever really helped to ignite my imagination, and it burns just as bright today.

I've read that episode on Saturday is a little sad, it centers around Sarah Jane coming to terms with her returning to a mundane life after seeing the wonders of the universe with the Doctor.

I mean, how do you come down after that high?

And then meeting him 30 years later.

I'll have the hanky ready.

I'm armed and dangerous.

A lunchtime visit to the local supermarket has loaded me up with a can of 'Raid'.

When I get home I'll sit and wait for Mr Spider to show himself and then it will be curtains for the eight legged little freak.

Last night he won the battle, tonight I win the war.

Oh yes.

I'm supposed to be this big, butch, fag right?

Soooooo wrong.

I'm rooted to the spot in my kitchen because of a spider.

A goddamn spider!

It hangs above the sink, watching me.

I stand away from it, not sure what to do.

The vacuum, my usual method of disposing of anything that crawls is no good as it's an upright model.

Mental not to self: buy a proper hoover.

Being a resourceful chap I pick up a bottle antiseptic cleaner and begin spraying the spider furiousely hoping it will fall to a watery death in the sink.

After ten minutes of pumpaction spraying I give up and vow to return tomorrow with the spider equivalent of napalm.

I just need to find it...

When buying a new property check the deeds, is your new home built on a) an old indian burial ground? b)one of the nine gateways to hell? It's always worth asking, at the very least you could get a couple
of grand knocked off the asking price.

Just killed the psychopathic killer who was chasing you? Are you sure? Are you really sure? Why not shoot him in the head just in case? Then chop his head off with an axe. Then set fire to him. Better to be safe...

Taken from The Ultimate SF and Fantasy Trivia Book that was free with the latest issue of SFX magazine.

It gave me a giggle.

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''.....my dream woman is whatsername...you know the cartoon with Bob Hoskins..''

''Jessica Rabbit'' I interject

''yeah thats 'er.......you know the way the dress curves and shows off her you know,her tits....I reckon every man would fancy her, even if you were gay....well, not fancy her, like to fuck her fancy her but you know, like her...you know what I mean?''

''Kinda'' I reply

''.....yeah, and I like burlesque women too....hey, you should have a burlesque night at the hotel, you know, with a select few invited..I like the way they dress, you all feminine like.....you don't mind me talking like this do ya?...I just tend to jabber on...''

Dude, your cutting my hair,I think, for the next few minutes you are god.

I'm in a little bit of a funk today and I don't know why.

I had some great fuck buddy sex last night and this kind of sex works for me.

It's nice and also free of any complication.

Engage the libido, not the heart.

Some hot sweaty sucking and fucking and then normal service is resumed.

But this morning,I don't know....

I've been in da funk since I woke up at 6.45 and have yet to shake it off.

And I don't like it, it's not me.

Not me at all.

Manbears had a few emergency tickets.

Phew.

Standing in Via last night, a swift vodka on the way home,a guy from Bristol got talking to me.

He wasn't hittin', just chattin'

He asked the dumbest question of all time.

''Is it true it rain's a lot in Manchester?''

You better believe it, Holmes...

And I've lost.

Shit.

I get a wake up call to go and get my ticket for the BearBash and while I was uhm-ing and arr-ing, they've sold out.

Fuck.

Shit.

Piss.

And..oh yeah..

BOLLOCKS!

There is a slight chance there may be more released, but I ain't holding my breath.

It's my own fault I guess.

Some would call it karma.

Anyway,

I'll deal.

It's not the end of the world.

But it's close.

I hang out on various gay bear sites such as Bearwww and Eurowoof and a thought occurred to me while I sat looking at the picture of guy I used to know.

The guy in question was a total loser, he was a thief and liar.

Of course, I only found that out after I had fallen in love (or so I thought) and moved in with him.

He took me for about three grand in total, and stole money from my parents and also a friend of his.

And his profile is just sitting there on Bearwww, advertising what a great guy he thinks he is.

And it occurred to me.

If you shop on Ebay you leave feedback and the other party leaves feedback on you.

Why can't these sites be the same?

It would be great to leave feedback on this guy - negative feedback - so other people are warned.

And likewise, leave positive feedback on the good guys of this world.

Would be interesting...

Friday, on the phone to my brother;

''Can you bring Serenity back'' I say

''No, I've got some resin'' he replies.

WTF?

How did we go from last years best scifi film to a Class C drug?

Anyway, fast forward to last night and me on the kitchen floor, giggling like a schoolgirl after three joints, laughing at the sound the word 'nibble' makes when you say it.

Nibble

No, not funny this morning.

''There are several quientessential moments in man's life....'' begins Kirbo.

The dude isn't wrong.

There ARE quintessential moments in a guys life, milestones that we look back upon and remember how far we have come.

This, is one of them.

Kinda, anyway.

Y'see, I traded in my set of bongo's for a battered underwood typewriter...

No, wait, that ain't my life.

Anyway...

This is post 200.

Two fucking hundred!!!

When we started -Binky and I - back in the 1940's, when the world was in black and white and the only computer we had was a ZX81, we never dreamed we would make it this far, let alone have nearly ten thousands hits

Thats a lot.

Boy, is it a lot.

So from me to you, I thank you.

Thank you for dropping by when the fancy takes you.

Thank you for leaving a comment when you feel you need too.

What you said about Animals did make me pause (or paws) for thought.

Roll on post 400!!!.

I must admit, I was frustrated with Big'Ole Kevin.

Kevin Smith, The writer/director???

Jeez, don't you know anything anymore Binky?

Sheesh.

I had enjoyed reading his blog www.silentbobspeaks.com.

He was witty, inventive and blogged with a jivey style that was easy on the eye.

As is he.

If you know what I mean...

He was funny, if a little unoriginal.

He re-enacted the funeral scene from Four 'Weddings and A Funeral' when his father croaked.

I mean, come on for fraks sake!

Anyway I lost patience with him at the beginning of the year, he had abandoned his blog.

For weeks it lay empty.

But he seems to back on form now and has recently been detailing how Jason Mewes descended into addiction hell.

And pulling himself out again.

The guy is three years clean, so kudos.

Go over and check it out.

My life is due to undergo a radical change in a few weeks.

Well, radical is a subjective term, Binky, it's not like I'm becoming a father or anything as dramatic as that!

My younger brother is making the move to Manchester and will live with me.

Big deal, I hear you say.

Well, yes, it is a big deal.

Even at my young (another relative term) age I have become a little set in my ways.

I've shared houses/flats before and have never fully enjoyed it.

Even though the guy I was sharing with knew I was gay, I never felt comfortable bringing a guy into that situation.

And past boyfriends have suffered because this.

But this time it's gonna be different, this is on my terms.

My house, my rules.

If I bring a guy home, he'll have to deal with that.

If I decide to cuddle up with a guy with a bottle of Pinot and a roaring fire,he's going to have deal with that.

I won't be compromisng my life in anyway.

Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to having him here.

He's a great guy.

I'm just beginning as I mean to go on.

These are the guys who go out LOOKING for HIV+ poz guys to fuck 'em and realise their ambition to be positive themselves.

BBC3 had a documentary tonight.

I was going to call them sick, sick bastards.

But they deserve pity, not hate.

I mean, why would you?

Why?

Classic Dr Who in the morning.

Season one of the new series repeated in the afternoon.

A night of Dr Who on BBC 3 tonight.

And me on the sofa under the duvet.

Not a bad weekend, really.

I observe THE BOSS as he scribbles stuff down.

It's Friday afternoon, we're sitting in the restaurant and we're having the monthly job chat.

I'm multi-tasking, as we talk I'm watching the two businessman have lunch.

One - the big guy- I would fuck.

The other I wouldn't.

Too slim.

''So where do you see yourself going? '' THE BOSS brings me back to the here and now.

''I want Ravi's job when he goes back to London in a year''.

Ravi is the hotel Financial Controller.

He counts the beans.

THE BOSS smiles.

''You've taken the words right out of my mouth''.

The future is sweet.

I think I've adjusted well in the transition from tenant to homeowner, but there a few things I just cannot get used too.

One, is the creaking of this ol' house as it cools down at night.

Yes Binky, this big grown up bear sleeps with the hall light on.

I know, that's just stoopid.

But I am a veteran of over a gazillion horror movies, so factor that in.

Second, is public transport.

Not the buses themselves but the people who ride them.

Man, they are rough!

The poor drivers.

Today I witnessed a couple of lads throw a condom of some very suspect liquid at the driver as they exited the bus.

Oh, how they laughed.

But it wasn't funny, it was just a dumb thing to do.

Nobody was impressed

And the poor sunovabitch who drove the bus, must have felt embarrassed beyond belief.

It's easy for me, I'll be buying a car this year.

But him...

He doesn't get paid enough to put up with that kind of shit.

2 weeks until the second (or the 28th if your a purist)of Doctor Who.

Rejoice.

Rejoice.

Rejoice.

The first BearBash of 2006 kicks off at the end of April.

All those big, sweaty, hairy sexy guys squeezed into one room.

Dancing, drinking, cavorting, groping, snogging , sucking and probably fucking.

And who knows what else.

But I will probably sit this one out.

After splitting with BigL I don't want to cause him any awkwardness or even more pain.

He should go have fun, dance the night away.

And forget about me.

If he has any sense, that is.

As a race we are naturally selfish.

Us homo's even moreso, I think.

And this is a good thing.

It means we do not accept compromise, if it isn't want we want, what we need, where we're going....we walk away.

A lot of us reach a point in our lives where we are content to be by ourselves,the angst of youth when we yearn for HIM to love us, fuck us and suck us recedes into emotional maturity that empowers us with choice.

If a nice man comes along we know we don't need his love, we're fine the way we are.

The Goddess Gloria of the Gaynor taught us to Survive.

But we can have it if we choose.

We can revel in it, rejoice in it and lose ourselves in it.

Because there is a small part of us that is safe,almost pure and free of the neediness that clouds the heart and mind.

It gives a clarity to see the relationship as a whole, to look at the two halfs and see if they do indeed match.

Or not.

And it enables us to make the choice that is right for both parties, the choice HE could maybe never make.

It's still rough, though.

I know what I'm doing.

Been here before, got the t-shirt.

The imposed silence is for your benefit, not mine.

If you want me to be villain of the piece, ok.

If you want me to be the bad guy, ok.

If you want me to be your bastard, that's ok too.

If it helps you to heal.

It has to work for the both of us, not one of us.

In time we can be friends, good friends.

But now you need time.

It'll get better, I promise.