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Nº1CDA: More is less hypothesis-2,3,4 interesting.

3 Oct

Hello, we’ve been a bit lackadaisical at Wondercat for various reasons that will be posted about soon.

Remember the ongoing alcohol and hangovers experiment? we have results for trials 2-4…

Trials 2 and 3 were conducted in Brighton (which will be posted about soon).  Despite our advancing years we managed two consecutive nights of drinking and dancing (I never considered the additive effects of consecutive trials, I may need to update my protocols).  Sparing you the gory details for another time, this is all about the experiment after all…

Things were still going as predicted.  Hangover was just tiredness really so it seemed that still being drunk the next day confers hangover protection.  Damage to property is consistant with normal wear and tear…all going great!  So very pleased with the results!


Trial 4: Kimmer’s birthday drinks

Who knew we would end up dancing?  It wasn’t in the original plan, so I didn’t accessorise accordingly.

Alcohol consumed = so many bad things…Socio Rehab provided many cocktails (my new favourites being the Beyonce Diet Lemonade and the Screwball Martini). A Jagerbomb or twelve (or a *insert random alcohol* bomb-don’t ask it got confusing, just because you put in in a shot glass doesn’t make it a *something* bomb…a vodka and redbull is a vodka and redbull no matter how you serve it) was ingested through the evening.

Morning Status = Still Drunk

Hangover = Feel fine

Signs of Debauchery = Oh sweet Jesbudallah!

I managed, despite feeling terribly nauseated, to avoid vomiting in the taxi…this self control didn’t last to the front door…there is a grid on our street with most my internal organs down it (so exquisitely sophisticated, my head is hung).

Worst of all I LOST THIS!!!!!!!



So, Mykie has paid the ultimate price in the name of science (that’s right, the ultimate price is accessory based).  Whist he may have formulated a way to avoid a hangover the cost of getting there in terms of accessory damage (and reputation damage) can be enormous.  I think he needs to apologise to the neighbours he woke up at 3am sobbing his heart out, vomiting his innards up, crawling down the street in the rain for an hour looking for jewellery…

Shame, Shame, Shame


Coming Out: Part 3

29 Aug

So here’s the next instalment of Coming Out…


So I was pulled out the closet against my will with regards to telling people.  I had peeked out the door but I was comfy snuggled up in the winter furs of denial.  It’s not that I hadn’t realised for a long time I was gay, it’s not even that I hadn’t done anything gay, I just wasn’t really ready to tell the world…not that it should have be a big shock to anyone; I had, after all spent  my childhood choreographing dance routines to Madonna songs with the neighbour girls whilst the boys were wrestling (hmmm?); My teen years were spent mostly bouncing around in Lycra.  Being from a small town where there didn’t appear to be any gay people made the idea of coming out seam like a really big deal…

So I moved away to Uni, my best mate from home told me he was gay, I still didn’t want to tell anyone…perfect opportunity really.  Then, out of the blue, I had no choice.  We had gone to “Torremolinos” (the end of year Uni party) where I had spent the evening getting friendlier with the barman I’d been flirting with all year… At the end of the night my best friend in the whole world who I’d spent the last year living with and getting to know, told me she had feelings for me…Eek!  I spent that night going through things in my head.  As far as I could see I had two choices, both not great…

1:  Spare my friends feelings, start a relationship and just hope I could play the part with a modicum of success.

2: Finally get around to telling someone I was gay and break my beloved friends heart in the process.

I chose 2.

Telling my parents happened a few weeks later.  I was at a family 18th birthday party and was ridiculously drunk.  My aunt came up to me and said “when are you going to get around to telling your parents?” (I say I don’t even know how she knew but, as I said before, you could see my gayness from space).  It’s all a bit hazy, I think I pretty much just blurted it out to my folks in front of everyone.  They were fine, but I really, really regretted it the next day and spent the whole day under my duvet sobbing…I felt like I’d let them down in some way…my sister reminded me yesterday she came and offered me a Malteser to make me feel better…she’s such a sweet darling.

So to follow were a few years of spiralling out of control.  I didn’t want to talk to my parents (even though they were fine about it), I ended up on really terrible terms with my best friend for over a year (awfully upsetting, thankfully all is now great) and pretty much managed to near kill myself with a delightful mixture of drugs, alcohol and eating disorders…fun, fun, fun. My first long term boyfriend (for over 3 years) turned out to be…shall we say “not the right person for me” and I wish my parents would have told me they thought he was a douche instead of thinking it would appear they were “disapproving of my lifestyle” and letting me figure it out for myself.

Reading back over this makes it seem quite bleak, at the time it didn’t seem so bad.  In retrospect, I just remember feeling really sad and lonely.

Thankfully Mykie managed to sort himself out and become a semi-productive member of society and is currently living out his Happily Ever After with Simon and I…Happy Days.

Coming Out! Part 2

28 Aug

Here’s the second post in our Pride special…

Adam Moxley, Manchester

I came out to my dad when I was 16 as I had a boyfriend at the time. I wanted to go to Newquay with him and his friends for a weekend, but before I went my dad wanted to know what my relationship with him was. I told him and was promptly told I wasn’t allowed to go! My mum then came up a few minutes later in floods of tears. She wasn’t particularly upset, but worried that my life would be far more troublesome than if I was straight.

I asked my dad why I wasn’t allowed to go away and he then clarified that he didn’t want me to see my boyfriend at all. On the grounds that I was 16 and he was 18 – this was all when the age of consent was 18 – and my boyfriend was breaking the law. Obviously being a teenager I didn’t take a blind bit of notice and carried on seeing him. We went out for a total of 3 months in the end. It was love 😛

Later I found out my dad lost his virginity when he was 14. I called him a hypocrite for ever having an issue with me having any kind of sexual activity when I was older than when he started!

My parents have since completely accepted me for who I am, even trying to set me up with holiday reps that they think fancy me. Slightly disturbing but touching at the same time.

Thanks so much for contributing Mr Adam!  Your not so wonderful gift will be in the post. 😉

Coming Out! Part 1

27 Aug

It’s Manchester Pride Big Weekend!

It’s that time of year to stand up and be proud!  But how did we get here?   What challenges did we face to become comfortable and open with who we are?

The next few posts will be some coming out stories…

David Gibbs- New York, NY

Back in February of  2005 when I was 21, I was going to school at the University of Arizona. One night I got a phone call that one of my good friends from high school in New Jersey had passed away in a freak accident. This got me thinking about my life and if I was really happy living the way I was living. My original plan was to come out after my grandparents past away, but this accident made me realize that I have to live life to the fullest.

The next day while sitting through a boring history class with a friend, I decided I needed to come out. After class I told her and all my other close friends that I was gay. Their response was “it’s about time you came out.” No problems there.

Two weeks later I flew back to New Jersey on an overnight flight to tell my parents and family. They had no idea I was coming home. I got to New York around 5:30 in the morning and had my best friend pick me up. I told him and he could care less. Around 7:30am he dropped me off at my moms house. I walked in the door and she freaked out and screamed. She came to my room and asked what I was doing in New Jersey. I told her I had to tell her something. She just listened. When I told her, she said, “Is that all?” I was a little surprised by her response. She apparently thought I came home to tell her I was dropping out of school. We went to breakfast and discussed some gay issues such as HIV and how much that scares her and also that she doesn’t care that I’m gay but that she doesn’t believe in gay marriage. The latter has since changed.

Next it was off to my dad’s to tell my brother. It was around 10:30am at this point and he was still sleeping. My mom and I went to his room and woke him up to tell him. His response, “You woke me up to tell me that?! I already knew.” When my mom left the room I asked him how he knew. Apparently I left some porn open on the family computer the summer prior.

Last person to tell was my dad. He came home from work around 3pm and I’m sitting in his living room with my mom and brother. He walks in and asks if someone had died and why was I home and everyone at his place. I told him that I came home from Arizona to tell everyone that I’m gay he responded with “let me ask you, are you happy?” When I said yes, he said “that’s all I care about.”

Over time I slowly told the rest of my family. Everyone was extremely supportive and very happy for me. The only person who had any sort of problem was my uncle who thinks that I am going through a phase and still does. I even told my grandma and she told me it was about time that I came out and that she will support anything and everything I do. That was the shocker to me.

I am very fortunate to have such a supportive and loving family. Unfortunately I have friends who were not as fortunate to have the support that I had and have.

Cheers for your contribution David!  We hope to see you sometime soon!

If you would like to share your story feel free to get in touch.  There will be a little “thank you” gift for contributors.

The first wool based meeting…better name required.

22 Aug

So last week after months of not so intense planning, Mykie got his arse into gear and ran a “Stitch ‘n’ Bitch”.

Crochet packs assembled, tutorials made, everyone confirmed…check, check, check.  Chez Chadong tidy…no check.  Decorator started today so it looks like someone has picked the house up and shook it…bollocks.

Slightly nerve-racking, the idea of teaching people a skill that I myself learned through the magic of Youtube…would it all end in disaster (I’m not the most patient of people)?  Surely it can’t end as badly as when I called the naughty kids “a bunch of retards” when I was a trampoline coach (it was the “special needs session”).

We were about to find out…

Miss Kimmers, Mr Adam and Ms Shepherd all arrived (we sent the men folk out for curry and beer) we poured the wine, nibbled the cakes and got started!

We started by learning how to get the wool on the hook (very important) then we chain stitched and worked a few rows of single crochet so they got the hang of the basics.

They were all marvellous and picked things up really quickly;  There were few traumas, Claire had a very tight, little hole and Kimmers lost her “V”.

We moved on to crocheting in the round…the aim off the club is to eventually make amigurumi so unless you plan to make road-kill you have to master 3D shapes.  Whilst they were all very good, Mr Adam was the clearly the most proficient, the crochet star, the wool master… he completed a stuffed lavender ball!

Claire made what we decided was a beret for a gnome or a fascinator for a regular sized person;  Kimmers made a… erm… well, she made a “fish” and a “seahorse”

We all had a lot of fun and we will be running things regularly.  All that remains now it to come up with a new name for our club…

New people are more than welcome so get in-touch if you are around the South-Manchester area!

Nº1 CDA: More is Less Hypothesis: Trial 1

17 Jul

Last night saw the first trial for More is Less 2010.

Plan for the weekend…let’s recap:

  • Drink then drink some more
  • Test level of intoxication next morning via comedy “nose touching/line walking” scenario
  • Rate level of hangover (from 1 to “oh god! why?!?!”)
  • Examine belongings for signs of debauch behaviour

It is a fair assessment that there was “drinking to excess” happening last night.  To the point of hangover-no-return…or was it?

A brief overview of proceedings is in order to make sure everything is well documented and above board (it is a rigorous and well planned experiment after all!).

Started the evening with a nice bottle of Villa Maria Sauvignon Blanc with dinner.  Civilised, delightful…then it went down hill.

Arrived at Mr Moxleys lovely new apartment where we waved a sad goodbye to the last bottle of original recipe Sailor Jerry (Farewell my friend!  You have inspired many a bad idea and will be deeply missed!).  I also think there was some Vodka involved…things got a bit hazy.  On an unrelated note I made up with Danny (look at me growing and everything).

After a brief trip to GLAM finding it deserted, it was off to BOLLOX where I’d never been before; I was a Bollox virgin…but my hymen was soon torn asunder.

I was introduced to the “Jager Bomb” by Mr Whits which we indulged in probably more than we should have.  They seemed to bestow Mr Whits with the strength of ten men as he kept picking Ms Kimmers and I up together with a roar…leading to squeals as our wombs were squeezed to buggery.

He also kept knocking the cue ball around the room whilst playing pool (I don’t know when, how or why pool happened…it was a self-righteous shoe-icide)

Jager Bombs also inspired the accessory of the century…FRANK SIDEBOTTOM HEAD!!!!

I’ve never spent so long or had such a fun time with my head up something.

A good time was had by all…mucho alcohol was consumed…let the experimenting begin!

Intoxication Test:  Well I could touch my finger to my nose and walk in a straight line (or what I imagined may be a straight line as I couldn’t fine one…that’s scientific rigour for you), but I was still totally off my little titty bags until after midday.

Simons testimony: “You could touch your nose but you kept telling me and showing me with gob volume turned up to 11…and you were clomping around like a fool…you were still wankered love.”


Yes! Fuck yes! No hangover for me!  Had a nice bowl of miso with prawns and enoki mushrooms (the best post drinking snack ever) and am just starting to feel sober (it’s 3.12 pm).

Mark one up for the More is Less Hypothesis!

Of course we need to repeat the experiment to build up a good data set…to the drinks mobile!!!


Somehow everything appears fine!!!  There was no cameo appearance of vomit on the taxi ride home…even the new Superstar aren’t all scuffed and dirty!  My Visa is a little bent from being in my pocket but that is reasonable wear and tear.  Unfortunately the Frank Sidebottom head didn’t last the night…some douche decided it would be fun to smash them up…what a wank faced super cunt…RIP Frank.

So…trial 1 has raised more questions!  It does appear to be possible to drink all night long, escape hangover and avoid ruining belongings!  How?  Was it the Jager Bombs?  Was it related to my broken Bollox hymen?  The experiment continues…

No Pay for Gay?

8 Jul

Well I’m relaxing at Grandma and Grandpa’s house as I can’t face the thought of living in the mess that is the half decorated house.  The boys went out over the weekend and even though they got a little tipsy they noticed something odd…

Drinky, drinky, dancy, dancy was the order of the day.  After drinks at Mr Moxley’s we wondered out and for better or worse decided to check out New York, New York (due to varying reasons not allowing everyone to get into Thompsons or Tribecca…not good).  The strange thing was you had to pay to get in if you weren’t gay!

How exactly do they enforce this?  Do you have to give a demonstration if they are unsure you are queer?  What if you are bi?  Do you get in half price?  We just sauntered (stumbled) in without a problem…our gayness must be visible from space.

Is this discrimination?  Is this equivalent to a “ladies get in free” evening you see in dirty looking, small town pubs populated by fat, male, double-baggers?   Or is it like letting Black, Asian or Oriental customers in for free?

The most amusing thing was how blatant the bouncers were.  Even Thompsons manages to display a modicum of subtlety with their “no heels” policy.

Bars and Clubs obviously have a certain clientèle they are aiming for.  A BDSM club probably wouldn’t be an enjoyable night out for the women of Warrington WI and I would understand if they were turned away…

How far can an establishment go before they are being illegally discriminatory?