Tag Archives: Manchester

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!

Then…

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!!!!!!!

MY TIFFANY RING!!!  IT’S GONE!!!!  LOST FOREVER SOMEWHERE!!!

I AM SO DEVASTATED!!! I GOT IT ON MY HONEYMOON!!!!

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

Advertisements

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!

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?

Quintessentially English vs Quintessentially Gay

29 Jun

As my food bowl was filled to capacity and two extra water bowls were placed on the floor I knew the boys where neglecting me yet again and going away over night…They were off to Stratford for a culture based weekend…was it worth the trip when Manchester packs quite a cultural punch?  More importantly, to what degree did the planned quintessentially English trip become a big gay away?

over to Mykie…

As we were over packing our suitcase Saturday morning (QG) and trying to squeeze my second toiletry bag into the luggage (QG) the post man delivered Simon’s pre-ordered “Kylie: all the lovers pack” (QG) which became the anthem of the road trip (QG)…picked up the in-laws and we were on our way!

We arrived in Shakespeare Land and spent a lei surly afternoon eating ice-cream by the river (QE), visiting Shakespeare’s house (QE) (well we looked at it…there was a big queue), and, on the hottest day of the year, shopping for Christmas ornaments in an all-year wonderland with faux snow and everything (QG)!  
We also spent a large portion of the day wondering how hot the living statues were in the heat and paint (QE).  The statues in Stratford are all gold and Shakespearian, much more impressive than the dull, grey scary ones in Manchester…win for Stratford!

In the evening we walked to the theatre to see “Morte d’Arthur” (QE).  The RSC is amazing!  The Royal Exchange Manchester is decent but this was something else!  Flying angels, horses made of people, tranny-devil and even a noteworthy shirtless man episode (QG).  The acting was top drawer, Arthur aged from a twatty imbecile to an ageing, wizened monarch seamlessly…Mordred was a deformed Geordie who brought a great touch of comedy.  It was a fast paced, fly by the seat of your pants tour of the whole of Arthur’s rein (for four hours! a 25 minute interval and a 5 minute pause (piss) I can’t sit still through a Dr Who usually but I was enthralled).  Great production! Bravo RSC (QE)!  As I was sweating like a whore and we were at the theatre, darlings…we needed a little razz-ma-tazz…that’s my explanation for purchasing a pink hand-fan which I spent the weekend wafting myself with (QG, so very QG).

Sunday, after being interrupted mid coitus by Mama Dotsy knocking on our hotel room door (QG), we had a lovely full English (QE). I had cereal as I had eaten so much the previous day I was feeling very Gabourey Sidibe so went for a low-fat breakfast (QG) (and I’d just eaten a sausage).  There was a woman, unfortunately, screaming at the hotel staff about her “boyfriend” not being able to find a parking spot and he had “a very expensive car”…this turned out to be an over-tanned, mid 50s, “long hairs are more hairs” man in a Z4 who proceeded to reverse 50 meters down the pavement…they obviously thought they were the Zeta-Douglas’ but they were just common, trashy scum…vile (is Jezza Kyle QE? I hope not)!

We strolled down the river late morning (QE) (OK, I had found a craft market so Simon sat on a bench whilst I rummaged (QG)).  I rowed my husband down the Avon in a row-boat (QE sort of).  Simon was steering, I was rowing…we crashed into a pile of trees trying to turn around (QG) (This was so Simon’s fault not that he admits it).  A brief trip to Anne Hathaway’s house and garden (QE)…(no, not that one QG) who I’m guessing didn’t have a gift shop attached when she resided there.  It sold pink quills and ink (QG) I wasn’t allowed any as I had my fan (QG).

Ended a perfectly delightful weekend bombing home down “28 days later motorways” as the football was on which we didn’t give a small rat crap about (QG).

This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.

William Shakespeare, “King John”

(Sorry football fans)

It seems Stratford is worth a visit if you enjoy a nice, quiet weekend and excellent theatre…It also appears that Mykie can’t even get through a play without buying a gay piece of tat.  Manchester theatres are great but if you really want a treat, get yourself some RSC tickets…hope next season has some good shows because I enjoyed having the house to myself!


Between a rock and a…drunk bloody place.

20 May

Mykie and Simon were telling me about their escapades on Saturday night going to D&Ds Eurovision party.

They waited for a tram in the rain…bad>The tram had drunken, singy, shouty sports fans at one end…avoid> They went to the other end and sat down…phew> They were sat next to a man on the phone with a bottle of cheep red in his hand, bleeding from the head and shouting F***ing nigger down the phone over and over…Panic!

How are my humans supposed to publically transport themselves places when the trams are full of scary, dangerous people??!!!

I’m glad I just stay in the house 😉