Have tickets - Will Party

Just collected my tickets! Can't wait to see the gay icon in Cape Town.

Here's the remix of All The Lovers...

Enjoy ;)

Chicken Licken - The Bunker

Sunny winter evenings

Love, Allergies, Chicken, Chilli & Lime Cakes

“Sometimes the deepest romantic bonds occur when we least expect them to.” That’s what my stars foretold that morning as I read the updates on Facebook while sipping the coffee I made myself that morning.

Yeah right, my allergy to love and romance was acting up again. The emotional pollen content of my love life was like a field of wild flowers on a spring day. Why can’t those pharmaceutical companies bring out an anti-histamine for love, I thought. Am I forever doomed to have the equivalent of a blocked nose when it comes to a successful relationship?

It was a cold, wet and windy morning in Cape Town and the capetonian drivers would be causing their usual chaos on the roads leading into the city. Fortunately I would be travelling against the traffic that day. Moving my workplace outside the city was probably the best decision I made this year. That and not cancelling my June holiday that he who shall not be mentioned wanted me to do.

I was meeting a girlfriend for a drink later that evening and I was looking forward to seeing her. We hadn’t seen each other for a few months due to her work commitments and her love life that was possibly in an even bigger mess than my own. We would share a bottle or two of wine together and whine about our lives for a few hours and leave with a sense of peace, knowing that the other’s life was shittier than our own. We planned to meet at a new restaurant that opened a few months ago that was fast becoming the trendy hangout of the models/students and media types who had studios and offices in the Kloof Street area. A glossy magazine had recently done an article on the place and it helped establish Seven Sins Restaurant as the place to be seen.

My cab dropped me a block away from the restaurant which was already overflowing with the after work crowd seeking refuge from the Cape winter wind and rain in the opulent décor celebrating the end of another week selling advertising or wrapping a photo-shoot. 

A song from Florence and The Machine was playing as I entered. The table I reserved earlier in the day was at the back of the smoking section, under the hand painted devil mural at the fireplace. From there I would be able to admire the beautiful people of Cape Town in the comfort of a soft white leather chair and have a good view of the DJ who had positioned himself at the other end of the room.

God he was beautiful. Arms adorned with tattoos of ancient tribal designs, light brown curly hair artfully waxed to create the just-out-of-bed look. The three-day-old stubble hiding his boyish good looks. He could’ve been a model. No wait; he probably was one too, I thought. He was bouncing his head to the rhythm of the music while he fiddled with the sound controls. How could I get to exchange a few words with him I wondered as the waiter came over to get my drinks order? “A double Jameson with ice please.”

Jameson on ice is my usual while-I-am-waiting drink. She was running late again, “My boss is chewing my ass to meet the deadline daaaaaarling, so I’ll be a little late. Is that okay sweety?” was the voicemail message that I listened to while I was in the cab. There was always some or other crisis at the film production company where she worked as a writer-researcher-assistant-model-actress. “I’m a hyphenate.” She would always say when anyone asked her what she did for a living at one of the cocktail or dinner parties she’d drag me to as her plus one.

I just ordered my second while-I-am-waiting drink and I was starting to feel the effects of the smooth golden liquid on my empty stomach. She was almost an hour late and I was starting to feeling like Julius Malema at a MENSA meeting. How was I supposed to feel that my life was not such a shithole if she didn’t get her sweet ass here so that I could hear the sad tales of her loves and life?

Just then my mobile vibrated alerting me to a received text message. It was from her letting me know that she was still at work and asking me if we could meet the following week. Great, I thought. Actually it was something to the effect of, ‘Fuck! You skinny old cow. Could you not have let me know sooner?! Here I am feeling like a foreskin at a Briss, with a hot dj across the room who I really wanted you to help he chat up.’ I got up and went to the toilet to take a leak.

The men’s toilet only had one urinal that was occupied so I went into the cubicle and closed the door. I could hear the telltale sniffing of a coke-nose from the guy at the urinal. Dumb idiot, don’t you know coke is so nineties, the cool people don’t use drugs anymore, I thought to myself. I waited in the cubicle until I heard him leave before I washed my hands and returned to my table to finish my drink and head on home.

A shot of tequila was waiting for me as I got to my table. Sitting opposite was the dj, “Hi, I saw you come in earlier. Do you like the music?” he said as I sat down. “Uh, yes. It’s pretty good. Who’s the tequila for?” I asked. “For you. I need to get hammered tonight. Don’t you just hate breaking up in winter? It’s so depressing, fuck.” Was his reply. “Did she dump you or you her?” I asked as I downed the shot of satan’s piss. “I dumped HIM. The fucker can’t keep his prick in his pants for more than two minutes. Every time he wants to fuck some other guy, he picks a fight with me. The last time was at Woolies. He made such a scene outside I thought I’d have to call security. He said I don’t watch his back, but I knew he had friends coming down from Jozzie for some party and he wanted to be a free agent while they were here. He didn’t even invite me to come with them. I’m not an idiot. I told him to go fuck himself. It’s not the first time either.” He said and downed his shot.

He’s GAY? I would never have guessed, not with all those bimbettes hanging all over him.

My stomach was starting to burn from the tequila and lack of food. “Have you eaten? I’m starving and if we’re gonna get plastered we do need to line our stomachs. Do you want to order something here?” I asked while trying to get the waiter’s attention. He replied; “Their food is really good here, especially the burgers. I could eat them every day but I’m going to gym again and I need to look really hot for summer. I want him to see what he lost when he sees me at Sandy’s in December. God, how he’ll regret fucking with someone who was so into him. Should we go to my place instead? I know it’s a bit forward, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off you since you sat down. Anyway, I finished the gig and need to get out of here. I live just up the road and I’d rather make you that chicken dish I wanted to prepare for him.” With that, I paid my bill and followed him out staring mesmerizingly at his bubble butt as he swaggered confidently ahead of me.

He made me chicken, chilli and lime cakes with noodles, and it was terrific. The combination of garlic, ginger, lemongrass and chilli with coriander made a fabulous flavouring to the chicken cakes. That guy will definitely regret not hanging onto the dj.

Maybe the stars were right after all? I didn’t expect to meet anyone that night, least of all him. Being stood up by my girlfriend turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

When I eventually got home the following evening, after making plans to meet him the next week, I went online and found the recipe for you guys to try out.

Let me know what you think.

THAI CHICKEN CHILLI & LIME CAKES

Ingredients

For the cakes

• 4 chicken fillets
• 2 bird's-eye red chillies, chopped
• 1 tsp peeled and finely grated ginger
• 1 tsp finely chopped lemongrass
• 2 spring onions, finely chopped
• 15g coriander, including stalks, chopped
• 1 lime, zest of half and juice
• 2 tbsp vegetable oil
• salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the sauce

• 55g caster sugar
• 55ml water
• ½ tsp crushed dried chilli flakes

Preparation method

1.    In a medium bowl mix together the galangal, lemongrass, spring onion, coriander, lime zest and juice. Season.

2.    In a food processor blend together the chicken and chilli.

3.    Add the ginger mixture to the chicken and blend again until just combined.

4.    Carefully remove the mixture from the processor, divide into eight potions and shape each portion into a cake.

5.    In a small saucepan mix together the sugar, water and chillies, then place over a low heat and cook until a syrup forms.

6.    Heat the oil in a medium frying pan.

7.    Fry the cakes in the oil for 2-3 minutes each side or until cooked through and golden.

8.    Serve the cakes with the dipping sauce in a separate dish to the side.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/thaichickencakeswith_66006

Example - Changed The Way You Kiss Me (Mensah Remix)

I Just Want Your Kiss Boy

Do you kiss on the first date? I’d like to say no, but if the chemistry is there I do more than just kiss the guy.

I met him a while ago in one of the bars in Cape Town. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a rocker t-shirt that clung to his defined chest like glad-wrap. I could just make out a tattoo peeking out from under his sleeve. I just won a game of pool against a longstanding opponent and I felt like a champion. I noticed him earlier and thought fuck if I wasn’t in love I’d go up to you and plant a kiss on that full mouth of yours. He looked something like Nicholas Cage in the movie Ghost Rider, only a little hairier, and you know how a hairy chest just makes my knees weak.

I leaned over the bar and ordered a large Jamieson and lit a cigarette. He came and stood next to me, I tried not to notice the full bulge of his package. ‘Nice game’, he said and took a swig from his beer. ‘Thanks, I wasn’t sure if I’d get that last ball in. It’s always the last one that gets me’, I said trying not to sound too proud about the absolute thrashing I gave on the pool table. ‘Are you alone tonight? I’ve been watching you for a while and I think you’re really hot’, he said with a cheeky grin and a naughty twinkle in his green eyes. ‘I’m waiting for my boyfriend’, I said, wishing that I was still single and not the one-guy-guy I am. ’Well, when you are single again, maybe then?’ was his reply. ‘Maybe’, I replied.

Now that I’m single again and very available my mind drifted back to that evening. Is he still around? Is still single? How will I find him if he is?

All this was answered when I checked my messages online. ‘Hey hey hey, it’s good to see you on here. J’ was the message from bikerdude. Who is bikerdude, I thought as I clicked the button to reveal his online profile. A series of images opened; a hairy chest, a face pic, a pic of him on some or other hot bike, and lastly a pic of him in the bush somewhere. It was him!

These are the times I just love the universe. I was just thinking of this guy a few days ago and here he is hitting on me again. Who said lighting doesn’t strike twice in the same place?

And YES, we did kiss and it was good.

Alela Diane & Wild Divine - Rising Greatness

Bruno Mars - Grenade

I heard this while driving back from a meeting. Think about it...

Saving Seamen

My best friend and I were taking a well deserved holiday together on one of Croatia’s islands. We travelled by car all the way from the capital, Zagreb, and arrived on the island by ferry a few days earlier. The island was pretty small, only 8 square kilometres, and inhabited mainly by fishermen and sailors.

That day I packed my towel, a book, an orange and some water, hoped on my bicycle and followed the path leading away from the village on a mission to explore the natural pine forests, sandy beaches and coves. The Adriatic sun was beating down on my now golden brown body while I listened to Avril Lavigne on my iPod allowing my thoughts to drift back to my now ex-lover.


All I wanted was to forget that I ever met the guy who I courted for over a year, and the lyrics to her song, Black Star, were resonating in me.  How had I managed to let someone take hold of my heart and twist it so selfishly? This holiday was supposed to be our honeymoon. I really only had myself to blame. The signs were there right from the start and being the strong willed person that I am I couldn't accept that he was not the one for me.

The sudden crunch of the bike’s front tyre hitting a stone brought me back to reality with a jolt. The smooth path, earlier littered with pine needles, was replaced by sharp stones. Certainly no place for a bicycle. I looked down at the now deflated tyre wanting to kick myself for not concentrating on where I was going. I’d have to turn around and push the bike all the way back to the village.

It was still early in the afternoon though and I really didn’t want to head back without having completed my mission of exploring the island further and swimming in the warm Adriatic waters. So I left the bike where it lay and continued down the path appreciating the unspoilt beauty around me.

Rounding a bend I saw a small jetty that jutted out over the clear water and headed straight for it.  This would be the perfect spot to sun myself I thought. I dropped my bag, slipped out of my shorts and took a running dive into the warm clear sea. As my head broke the water I thrust my arms out and with powerful strokes swam out about fifty meters into the sea and rolled onto my back. The sun glittered off the water around me like a thousand paparazzi cameras flashing at a film premier. I felt like a movie star on the red carpet.

After treading water for a while I headed back to the jetty and stretched myself out on the towel allowing the sun to bake my naked salty skin. ‘Dobar dan!’ someone shouted. I spun around becoming aware of my nakedness. Although nudity is accepted on some of the beaches in Croatia, I wasn’t sure whether this tiny island with its 800 or so, somewhat conservative inhabitants would appreciate me flopping my manhood around. The greeting came from a muscled, sunburnt sailor on the bow of a small rusty freighter that was heading straight for the jetty. Hurriedly I pulled on my shorts and returned the greeting with a wave. As the vessel approached he threw a hawser out to me and I secured it to the bollard. ‘Only two minute!’ he shouted, ‘Only two minute’ while gesturing toward the aft.

There were three of them onboard. The two deckhands couldn’t have been older than twenty six or seven. They were all shirtless and their ripped bodies glistened with salty sea spray and sweat. The older one flashed a bright smile at me while letting his eyes wonder up and down my body. The skipper was closer to my age with a mop of thick curly locks framing his rugged face. A ships anchor was tattooed on his not insubstantial chest. In a series of hand gestures, and broken english he explained that something had become entangled in the rudder or propeller and they needed to free it.

The youngest deckhand stripped down to his underpants, revealing a promising bulge and the reason why I love men so much, and with a wink at me he jumped overboard, treaded water for a few seconds, took a deep breath and disappeared under the water.

I followed their progress from the chaste safety of the jetty for a while, but the fact that it had been more than two weeks since I had experienced the hot touch of a man, let alone three men, I hopped onboard that rusty freighter my head filled with thoughts of man-lust and desire.

[Now, homosexuality is not illegal in Croatia, in fact it was decriminalised in the early seventies. This said, it is also a very Catholic society and man-love is sort of frowned upon. They would rather you get married, have children and keep your man on the side, but that’s a topic for another time.]

The other two sailors were aft, leaning over the side directing the operation from there with more hand gestures and shouting. The poor deckhand wasn’t a very good swimmer and couldn’t stay down long enough to dislodge whatever was hindering the ships manoeuvrability.  Joining them, I asked if there was anything I could do to help. I was in the navy before and I know my way around a ship. The skipper looked up at me and with a mocking grin suggested that I jump in and give the now floundering guy a hand. I don’t know if he thought I wouldn’t do it, but throwing caution to the wind I climbed on the railing and executed a near perfect dive into the water.

A mooring line and buoy had gotten itself twisted around the propeller shaft. It would take more than a few dives to free the shaft of its encumbrance. Had I bitten off more than I could chew? Would my act of bravery end in embarrassment? With my lungs with bursting for air I headed to the surface, took a few deep breaths and headed back down on my mission of mercy.

It took about fifteen minutes and a lot more dives to eventually free the shaft. By then the young deckhand was back onboard cheering me on. He was still in his underpants and I could make out every contour of his package. Would that be my reward for saving these seamen? Would my saved semen at last be swimming free?

With renewed vigour and the hope of a seaman’s reward I ducked under the water and removed the last of the cumbersome obstacle. As I came to the surface for the last time I held up a triumphant fist clutching the offending buoy and line. The skipper roared with delight and slapped the older deckhand on the back. I did it. I saved the seamen. I was beaming with pride and grateful that my act of courage didn’t end in embarrassment. Now to free my semen.

Back onboard the young deckhand handed me a towel and an ice cold beer. He looked straight into my eyes and took a step closer to me. I could smell the sea on his leathery skin. His hair was swept back revealing a high forehead above deep blue eyes framed by thick dark eyebrows. He gave me another wink and whispered ‘hvala’, thank you. With that he turned around and headed toward the stern of the ship.

I took a long deep swallow of beer, dried myself off and joined him and his fellow shipmates at the stern. Congratulatory slaps on the back and more ‘hvala’s’ followed. The skipper then explained that they had just off-loaded some building material at the island and as they were leaving he had accidentally sailed over the buoy. If they had continued on without removing the obstacle they wouldn’t have been able to navigate the narrow channels around the Sibenik archipelago.

While I was standing on the jetty watching the ship getting underway and slipping into deeper water, the young deckhand was leaning on the gunwale waving me good-bye. As him and his ship disappeared over the horizon I thought how much better that whispered word of thanks was than being given a chance to free my saved semen.

Time

Don't you just love it when a song expresses just what you're feeling?

I love music, and more particularly song lyrics. 

Sometimes songs capture exactly what you want to say and this is the case here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FEunF_fYyds

Memories of that rainy day with the boys

I've just returned for one of the best holidays ever. I spent part of it with one of my oldest friends from my navy days and his beautiful wife.

They also have two gorgeous boys. The eldest is five and the younger one is about two. They are the cutest and liveliest boys with what seems like inexhaustible energy levels, always playing games or running around. They would wake me up at six in the morning bursting with excitement cause some or other alien has invaded the room. The room where I was sleeping in, and we'd have to defend our fort (my bed) with imaginary light sabers or laser guns depending on which alien force they decided we'd have to fend off.

Anyway, their mother had to go into work one day and left me and my friend to look after the boys. It was a rainy day and we decided to take them to a kiddies farm that has a jungle gym and all sorts of contraptions to make any special forces soldier collapse with exhaustion after completing only two rounds of the course.
There I was squeezing my body through padded rollers, tunnels, spinning wheels and climbing through tiny holes that no adult was supposed to squeeze through trying to keep up with the youngest of the boys, when all of a sudden he sat down and declared that he was tired. I accepted this break gratefully.

I fished out some kiddy fruit juice, opened it and handed it to him. While he was sipping his juice he started humming and soon started singing too. I didn't really concentrate on the song as I was still trying to catch my breath and regain what dignity I had left after falling quite unceremoniously off a spinning wheel.
After some time though I did start listening to him singing. Something to the effect of 'I need a dollar, dollar that's what I need...' What  sort of nursery rhyme has those lyrics I thought?
Later while we were driving back looking for a place to eat Aloe Blacc's song 'I need a Dollar' was playing on the radio, and the youngest burst into song again singing along with Mr Blacc. My friend turned to me and said that that was the youngest favourite song, particularly when they were driving.

I've been back home now for almost a week and while driving to see a supplier Aloe Blacc's song was playing on my favourite radio station and I started singing along, letting my mind roll back to that memorable day I spent with my best friend and his sons on that rainy day.

So here's that song so that you can also share in my memory too.
Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iR6oYX1D-0w&feature=related

YouTube - Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts Official Video

YouTube - Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts Official Video

Online Dating

So, I’m recently single after chasing what I thought was love for over a year. I won’t go into the boring details of this episode in my life just now. I’ll leave that for later.

Anyway, now that I’m a free agent again I want to meet some new men for fun and also to expand my friendship circle. So how does a forty year old queer find new friends in Cape Town?

I could go to the few bars that are concentrated around a small block in Green Point. Maybe even the steam bath up the road. The problem here is that my ex uses it too and I just don’t want to see him right now. So I decided to re-activate my profile on one of the popular gay-dating sites.  

After updating my pics, including a body-shot, I started checking out the other profiles and waited to see if I would get any hits. Well, to my delighted surprise some of the sexiest men and boys started contacting me wanting to go for a drink or hook-up. Apart from giving me a welcome ego boost, I found that most of these guys also wanted the same thing – meeting other guys to just be friends and maybe something more in time. So I accepted one or two of the offers to meet up and had such a great time with these guys.

We didn’t jump into bed or head for the steam bath right away, we chatted for hours while enjoying a glass or three of wine. It was refreshing to talk to guys who were actually interested in me and my opinions, and not just wanting to have a shag. Anyway, future ‘dates’ were arranged for later this week, and I’m looking forward to seeing them again.

So to those of you who are still not sure about online dating give it a try. You might be pleasantly surprised.

Ben Whishaw from Perfume - The Story of a Murderer

Ben Whishaw from Perfume - The Story of a Murderer

I must have a thing for unusually strange looking guys and Ben Whishaw is the latest.

He's an English actor who trained at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art. He totally out shone seasoned actors like Dustin Hoffman and Alan Rickman in the movie Perfume - The Story of a Murderer.

It's always their eyes, particularly their eyebrows that get me.  And get this .... he has a TWIN brother.