Saturday, July 12, 2014

Home, but with memories that will last a life time!

Sorry this is a week late, but hey, shit happens. 

     I’m going to start here by saying thank you to everyone who has sent me messages of support after the chaos when the person house sitting for me abandoned my poor dogs. It means lot to me. It was a nightmare I never want to go through again. But it is all over and done with now. So moving on…

     Now…onto the fun stuff! My traveling around the UK and Paris!

     Bugger. Bollocks. What the hell is wrong with you English? You use these words so offhandedly and in such a derogatory fashion. 

     Bollocks. Now for my uninformed American friends, that means balls. Bollocks! Yay for balls, I say. I love balls. Balls are fun. Balls are juicy, in more ways than one. Balls are great to play with. Of course my personal preference is nice furry balls, but all balls are nice. So why in the world would you people disparage such lovely creations? Okay, I actually like the word bollocks, but when I say it, it will be with admiration!
Oh yeah!

     Bugger. Another word that I wonder why you English throw around in such a belittling way? Bugger off! Oh bugger. Of course the source is slang for gay fucking, which is to be taken as an insult. Bah! You have it all wrong. Buggering is wonderful. We love to bugger, or fuck as we on the other side of the pond would say. So lay off, would ya? 

     May I suggest you just say fuck and be done with it. It is much more versatile anyway. It is a verb, noun, pronoun if you choose or an adjective. So much more useful if you ask me and it doesn't single out gay men. Remember now, I don’t really give a rat’s ass what some of you English think of me, but then I really don’t care much of what anyone thinks as a general rule. I’m old enough, and my ass has been around the track enough times to slough it all off without much thought. But again, that’s just me. But come on… find another word please. 

     Poof. Well now, that is just downright rude. Where did poof come from? Hmmm. Let me see. The only thing I found is that it comes from the word puff, as in powder puff. Used to be used to describe an effeminate male who wore face powder. Basically it is just another word for fag. “There were a couple of poofters here.” Translation… “There were a couple of fags here.” 

     Yeah, whatever. Bite me. The last time I had a powder puff touch me was when my mother changed my diaper, so you can just kiss my powdered ass. So bugger off! He he he 

     The way you English phrase things is just bizarre. When are you going to learn to speak proper English? Eh? There are times I have to turn to the lovely Ms. Wells and ask for a translation! So much for speaking the same language. Of course, I had no better luck in France, since I don’t speak French. Hey, at least they looked good while talking. Oh, not to say there weren't some very handsome men in England, quite the contrary. 

     I have to say, I've never seen so many dark-haired men with blue eyes in my life, one of my favorite combinations by the way. They were everywhere! I swear there were times I thought my head was going to rotate right off my shoulders. 

     As I write this, I’m sitting and listening to the waves roll in. Sharing Ms. Wells’ writing spot in Steephill, Isle of Wight is a joy and a privilege. (Yes, Will, it is Steephill NOT Sheephill, as much as you’d like it to be.) Lovely. It’s quite lovely. Lovely, lovely. Simply lovely. Would you like to know how many times I've heard that one single word in the last hour and a half? Let me put it to you this way…there has not been one person, out of many, that has NOT said it. Arrrrrgggghhhh! 

     I’m glad that she can write so much here. I on the other hand had way too many distractions, half naked men being one of them. That’s what happens when you sit on the beach I guess. Well, that and the crying babies. I’d never get as much work done as she does. Amazing. 
A very wet K.C. Wells with a blue cock!

     A few days later we found ourselves in London. During Gay Pride in London it poured the rain. Of course that was the ONLY day it really rained the entire time I was there. Oh bugger. (Crap, now I’m stuck with that one too! HELP ME!) It really did kind of ruin it for me. I didn't think my ass was ever going to dry out. Anyway, we decided to go have a bite to eat and take a nap. The nap didn't happen. 

NOTE: I no sooner got back to the hotel when I got a phone call informing me that my house sitter had abandoned ship. Totally fucked up the rest of my stay, but enough of that. 
Later that night, the lovely Ms. K.C. Wells and I went in search of entertainment. When we got to Soho, the gay section of London, it looked like Mardi Gras. I found myself encased in throngs of vibrating men in the middle of the street. Wow. I was like, OMG. Actually, I think I did a post to that effect. There were these two very hot men, snogging their faces off, right in the middle of the street. Oh, snogging is the Brits way of saying kissing and making out. So sad they can’t just speak simple English. 

     After we got through the thickest part of it, stopping for a quick beer first, we came to a clearing, and low and behold… a urinal! YAY! Not just any old urinal mind you, but one of those that are just open to the world. I really think they are amazing. What a great idea! Of course, I’m just pervy enough to appreciate it for other reasons. Of course I had to get a few pictures! 
     I think it is hysterical that guys will simply whip it out, take a whiz and then forget where they are and turn around to zip up. “Oh look! Penis!” BWHAHAHAHA! I love it. Of course, I had such a good time we went back the following night, when it wasn't quite so crazy, with the charming Ms. Petronella Ford. That is when I got the really good pictures! We sooo need some of these in the States.

     Now leave it to me to find a bar with either strippers or go-go boys. Yep, I found one. And yes, we certainly went. The Village in Soho is a great little pub/bar. Nice men dancing around in next to nothing. Unfortunately, the Brits are a bit on the prudish side, so no full out stripping. Oh well, one must make do with what one has. *sigh* 

     Now then, earlier I said something about the British currency in another post. Remember the whole thing about no one pound notes, only coins? I proved my theory that night. Those poor dancers didn't get tipped once. Not one solitary sole gave those lads any cash. I felt so sorry for them. There they were, shaking all their goodies for all they were worth, and they got no appreciation for it in the way of monetary payment. Wise up England, you NEED one pound notes. Your go-go boys (and girls I’d assume) are going broke! They need help! Get a pound note, support your strippers! Sheesh. 

     The next day I took a bus tour of London on one of the open air double-decker red buses. Quite the experience, I must say. The history there just amazes me. Interesting to see how closely the States and England are tied. (So why the fuck can’t they speak English!?) Again… prudes. There was this amazing statue that was erected in the 1800’s I believe, of a nude man. A lovely statue it is. (crap…am I ever going to get that out of my head?) Of course they went and covered up his junk with a fig leaf. I could only shake my head in dismay. So sad… 

     The rest of my trip was mostly spent in pubs. (I was a bit stressed.) The highlight of the pub crawl was ending up in a Bear Bar/pub for karaoke night, where the lovely Ms. K.C. Wells sang! I kid you not. The only female to do so. Girl’s got some balls, I’ll give her that. She did quite well by the way. (Of course that song has been stuck in my head ever since. Grrrr.)

     I got a little drunk, slept well and got up, washed London off and caught my plane back to the States. Hard to believe that I was there twenty-six days. It was the trip of a lifetime. 

     I’d like to thank the lovely Ms. Wells and her equally lovely hubby, my buddy, for hosting me and showing me such a great time. (And yes, he says lovely just as much.) I’d also like to thank all those at the UK Meet who made it such a memorable experience. Rumor is that next year it may be in Edinburgh. IF it is, you can count on me to be there! 

     It is great to be home, sleeping in my own bed, with my pups around though. There is no place like home. 
Ms. Scarlet
     Now, I have to wonder what happened to that homeless young man, Alexandre, from Paris. I wish I knew. It wasn't much, but I hope what little we did give him had a positive impact on his life. So, remember everyone…it doesn't have to be a lot. It doesn't have to be anything big, but you can make a huge difference in someone else’s life. Take the time to do something nice for someone else. Trust me; it will make you feel fantastic and a much better person. Pay it forward or back, whatever the case may be. Just do it! 

     Have a grrreat week, y’all! 


p.s. I'll soon be doing a special blog post on the food! Stay tuned.

Because I can!

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