Monday, 25 January 2010
The last few months my life has been a bit quiet socially on account that I’ve been working in Africa and there wasn’t much of a gay scene there. Have I mentioned that already? Having a few months of quiet was quite a relief seen as the last time I went out properly I was dragged out of GAY in London kicking and screaming. I’ve not been south of Birmingham since.
After my triumphant return to England nearly four weeks ago I’ve certainly made up for lost time. Quite possibly having been involved in more drama in just four weeks than what EastEnders sees in a year. I have to say that although I was the cause of some of it, I certainly didn’t cause all of it, the vodka did.
I do believe that if you asked any of my friends to describe me they’d say loyal, they’d also probably say drama queen, alcoholic and pretentious, but you know what they say, if you don’t love me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best. Or is it just me that says that? It’s this loyal thing that get’s me into quite a bit of trouble, you see I always take it upon my self to defend the people I love whether they want me to or not as was the case was on New Year’s Eve, but again that’s another story.
Once again just a few nights ago I found myself involved in another little drama, this time though I was oblivious to the fact it was going on around me till I suddenly realised I was dancing alone in the nightclub, ten minutes previous there had been quite a few of us queens mincing together. Outside on Canal St the drama unfolded between my friends in front of an audience of slightly intoxicated puffs. Now you would never catch me airing my dirty laundry in the street, I much prefer to do it in the nightclub where it’s warm and the audience is already geared up.
If you to have a problem of attracting drama, all I will say to you is get yourself a Dave. Since I have been partying with Dave who is one of the most laid back and nicest people you’ll ever meet, it’s like having my own drama protection society. Luckily for me he manages to stay fairly normal on a night out, so when I’m about to start licking the windows or screaming obscenities at the man on the karaoke, again I’m very sorry about that you didn’t really sound like flipper being fisted, he simply tells me to wind my neck in and get a grip.
Despite all this I really am a nice person, but just in case the demon queen that’s trapped within tries to break out again, just come over to me and tell me to wind my neck in and I promise I wont rip your head off and shit in your neck, those days are behind me.