polemic
enemy of fitness
My straight flatmate told me about the Paris Gym, a room where gay men only are allowed entrance. I went along curious at the prospect of horny fit guys determinedly pushing towards an ambitious goal. The gym can be lots of fun but these guys didn't seem to think so. Hard house had shaved the curves off these folks. If you indulge in drugs & clubs on the weekend you could eat a bit. If you're 30 twice over (in the waist and in the years) you're a hero. I have been to the muscleworks at Bethnal Green. Be afraid. This industrial setting contained men working forcefully under heavy weights, could have been a mechanics' workshop. Their goal - to present a macho muscly exterior to their wives and family. The guys at Paris were skinny enough already. They needed a holiday from the drugs, clubs, gym culture of Vauxhall and a good meal. The gym, which lacked even the simple joys of a warmdown area resembled more a graveyard of ineffective old machines. These were crammed into every nook like statues in an Italian garden. This place showed the deep vulnerability of those who pursue the Muscle God with methods that do not in anyway resemble a search for bodily and mental fitness.
will i swing
I've been out for years and it's no big deal
but... again I cannot now travel on London Underground.
This time it is not am embarrassment of boys I see, but bars. Big bold yellow ones on the Jubilee and delightful purple ones on my local East London.
And as for those at the park, I have been snapped on mobiles by roaming
youngsters after I sought the late night embrace of a bar or children's swing.
The sweet torture of being with a full load of people and beautiful shiny bars
- which I can't touch!
Shit that old woman in the corner is watching me. I could be reported. O My God. What is the penalty for
defacing LU equipment? Never mind. Fkin awesome, empty carriage. Just gotta do 10 chinnies, a quick pole dance a back-bend
a few dips a skin-the-cat and a stretch
Then there was the bin incident. In all my years of homodom I have not been assaulted.
The guys threw the rubbish bag my way after a fairly liberal use by myself
of the East London line for gymnastic purposes.
So. I have an unquenchable and unusual need. Should I quash it.
And if the answer is yes, would one so easily stifle one's sexuality too.
Could boy lust be as easily controlled as bar lust?
It's like coming out all ever again.
extermination is too good for you
Working with Matthew who selflessly answers the letters from the nutcases who write to the Society of Genealogists inspired me to write this. Had he placed an advert in The Times, this is what they might have wrote back.
From:
"David Walsh" <events@sog.org.uk>
To: Matthew Gillespie
Subject: Your Advert
Date: Fri, 30 Jul 2004 17:35:07 +0100
Dear Mr Gallerspey,
Thank you for booking a full-page ad in the Times. We think our readers
may object to the strong language used, particularly in the main heading.
'You idiot - you need to be shot!'
It is News International's policy to check the charity status of all
those claiming the subsidised rate. The Charity Commission has no record
of 'Society for Exterminating Genealogists'.
The Charity Commission referred me to Matthew Gillespie at the Society of
Genealogists. They said that he will be able to help you, even if you
don't know that you need help. The Society's website says: 'send total
bollocks to Matthew in large numbers. Enquiries from the illiterate and
insane welcomed.'
It may be worth contacting him.
I hope this information has been of help to you Mr Gallerspey. Thank you
for booking the ad. We got over our scruples about the graphic image of a
genealogist dying slowly after having submitted a library enquiry to
you. After all you pay my wages!
Sincerely,
The Times