Ferrariae Keeping Me Busy

Those of you who know me will be wondering why I've taken to gardening.

I've not.

I'm only using pictures of various species belonging to the genus Ferraria as an illustration of what's been keeping me occupied this weekend.

By way of some background, plants from the Ferraria genus are related to the lily and iris and are common in South Africa. The pictures above show 3 different Ferraria species.

As you'll know, I've recently been away for about 2 weeks and when I got back, was quite ill with food-poisoning. My gran then dropped a bombshell from Oz about wanting to move. She lives in Oz for most of the year but gets away from the Australian winter for a few months every year to warmer climes. I'm her permanent house-sitter while she's away and that means me having to look for a new place for her. She's not wanting to move back from Oz for good. It's just that she's wanting to buy a new flat. She's only had the current flat for about 5 years but she thinks she needs a change.

Fortunately I'm now completely recovered from the food-poisoning and was able to go round looking at various new developments. I managed to shortlist a few after my rounds yesterday and today, I was given the go-ahead to sign on the dotted line to buy one of flats on the shortlist. It's in a new development (in the process of being built) called Ferraria Park (see the connection now?) and it's about a 10-minute drive from where I currently live. It's going to be bigger than the current flat but will still have 3 bedrooms although it will have an room which is meant to be a study. The new development will have 2 more swimming pools than where I currently live but will also have 2 tennis courts and a gym. The flat which I bought (under a power of attorney) faces the lap pool which will be the full 50 metres but will be narrowed to about 15 metres, instead of the usual 25 metre Olympic standard. It's past midnight and I'm too tired to scan an pictures of the plans for now. Pictures, etc will appear in a later edition of this post.

In the meantime, I'm still planning to post several entries to do with the following:

1. Richards LJ's flashing incident - did he do it and if he did, will there be a defrocking?
2. Pictorial feature of Utt and Nicholas Tse - J might like these
3. Lord Falconer's proposals to allow retire judiciary to return to practice - are the objections valid?
4. Male multiple orgasms - myth or reality - my personal experience - this has nothing to do with tantric sex, just good "technique"
5. Tomas & Petr
6. R - moving on and what happened after a previous encounter

This week will be another busy week at work. I've got a meeting with Shell (yes, the oil major) on Wednesday afternoon which I will have to do a lot of work for starting Monday. Social lunches which had been put off before I went away will have to be put off even further, till next week, possibly.

I'm Sorry, Mr Nash

"I can fart safely now the runs have stopped,
My arse isn't still sore when I wipe it down,
I can think clearly now the GE is gone,
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) Sun-Shiny day"

The above sung to the tune of Johnny Nash's "I Can See Clearly Now" just about sums up how I'm feeling at the moment - yes, the lyrics still need work and GE stands for "gastroenteritis". It would have complete made a dog's breakfast my little ditty otherwise. That's all a point of view of course, you may already be thinking that. C'est la vie (followed by an imaginary gallic shrug).

Having been laid low for about 2 days with food poisoning (due to a dodgy vanilla slice which I bought from Spitalfields Market last Sunday. Having taken a day off work to recover meant that I had time to think about silly little ditties and about how perhaps Spitalfields should be renamed "Spittlefields" as all the cakes were openly on display and what with people walking about and talking, sneezing, coughing, the cakes could easily have been contaminated by stray globulets of spittle. That said, I ate similarly displayed food last Saturday from Borough Market, including two HUGE oysters which I bought from Richard Haward's oyster stand and some Comte/Gruyere but didn't suffer any ill effects. It must have been the spittle from Spitalfields that did me in. If you're wanting to know how huge the oysters were, have a look at the picture at the end of this post. In case you're wondering, it wasn't the oysters that gave me the runs as I'd have been sick on Sunday instead of Monday.

I'm rather getting ahead of myself with all this. I should have started off saying that I'm now back from my trip and have lots to catch up with. Lots of things happened while I was away, not least the gastroenteritis and I hope to be posting a few entries over the next few days about some of the things which caught my attention.

I Don't Know What I'm Doing

This post comes to you from Bangkok's troubled Suvarnabhumi Airport. I'm going to be away from home for a while on work and posting will be suspended until after I return on 21st March. I'm sitting here in the business class lounge at a computer whose version of Internet Explorer is buggered. Instead of words on the screen, in a lots of places, all I see are rectangular boxes and I have no idea what they're meant to be.

I've been very busy at work this week which is why I've not been able to post any entries to this blog over the weekend. I've got a draft post somewhere but I can't make out which link it is from this wretched screen.

When I get back, I'm intending to do a pictorial post on cute Asian boys, featuring Uttsada Greg Panichkul, one of the VJ's on MTV Asia, or better known to his admirers as Utt. Also to be featured is the Hong Kong actor/singer Nicholas Tse. Nicholas isn't usually my type as I don't particularly find guys with long hair attractive but there was something about him in "The Proud Twins" which left me wanting to see more of his vulnerable side. It's nothing negative but he's always had this "bad boy" image and his brushes with the law are, by all accounts, quite well publicised in the Hong Kong tabloids.

While I don't generally find guys with long hair attractive, there's always exceptions and likewise for guys with short hair. I'm not into skinheads but there might be exceptions. The sort which I generally find attractive will usually have reasonably short hair (think Ryan Seacrest) to a military buzz cut.

A month after I get back from this trip, I'll be off to Perth (Oz) for the annual corporate outing. I was hoping to catch a footy match. Force are playing away against the Brumbies the weekend I'll be there. Of the two "local" AFL (yes, it has gay appeal - all those fit men running around in shorts and sleeveless vests) teams, only the Eagles will be playing at home that weekend. Dockers are away to Melbourne. I'm thinking of organising a trip to Subiaco on the sidelines of the corporate outing. I suspect that most of us will ditch the organised programme and do our own thing and I might be able to round up a group of colleagues who might be up for that sort of thing. Was thinking about dinner at Funtastico's afterwards but kick-off is at 2.40pm and it might be a bit too early for dinner straight after the match. Perhaps we'll find a bar to have a few drinks before heading over to Funtastico.

(Not) My Arse

From the outset, let me make it clear that this picture of Adrian Komar's arse is purely for illustration only. It is an illustration of what I regard as specimen of a fine male arse. Alright then, it's not purely for illustration - I put it there to titillate as well.

The reason why my arse is the subject of this post is because of an incident at work today. If I was a woman, it might be regarded as sexual harrasment but a woman was to tell, hint or even in the slightest way insinuate that a (gay) guy he's got a nice arse (or a nice cock) for that matter, he will probably be up for more of that sort of harrassment.

I'm not going to get onto my hobby-horse in this post about how hypocritical women can be about this sort of thing - that could be the subject of some other post in the future.

Back to my story. Today is Friday which means that it is "dress-down" at work. I was wearing a pair of Murphy & Nye jeans with an Abercrombie & Fitch polo shirt - all very casual. I went to the stationery room to get an envelope and had to bend down to reach for it as it was on a low shelf which was partly obstructed by a photocopier. Two other female colleagues were there. I'm friendly enough with them such that I wouldn't make an issue of it as it was all said in jest. As I bent down, they two ladies no doubt got a good view of my arse. I was about to leave after getting my envelope when one of them suggested that since the envelopes were placed in such an inconvenient location, perhaps I should take a few more and save myself the hassle of coming back for more later. I vacillated for a bit and while doing so, the other lady remarked that the first lady only suggested that I bend over for more envelopes because they both wanted another view of my arse.

I was somewhat shocked but slightly flattered. It's nice to get this sort of attention, even if it's from the girls but it would be better if it had come from a cute guy. In any case, I'll take the compliments, whoever they come from. So I pretended to be all coy and said that there really wasn't anything to look at and left with my extra envelopes.

The person who usually gets comments about his arse (good comments, I might add) is one of the directors. He's a (married with 2 children) raving metrosexual who works out regularly and has a very fit body. When I first started work at this place, before I knew he was married, I'd have sworn blind that he played for our team and I'll admit to having fancied him a bit. He's in his early 40s but could easily pass for mid-30s. and has got an uncut cock - I managed to sneak a peak while we were both standing at adjoining urinals a few months ago.

I won't venture to comment on the size of his cock as flacid size is no indication of erect length. Let's just say I was tempted to reach out to stroke it until it was hard and then suck it. I had to try very hard to control myself so that I wouldn't get hard. I usually don't have any problems peeing in a urinal, whether I'm on my own or with other guys around. I went to boarding school and later on spent enough time in various changing rooms with my rugby club team mates that being nude around other (straight) males, much less peeing in a urinal, isn't really an issue, unlike my cheating ex who would never pee in a urinal, even if he was the only guy in the loo as he gets "performance anxiety".

If anyone out there would like to tell me I've got a nice arse, let me know. I'll take a few snaps of my arse and you can decide whether you agree with the two ladies from work.

Les Deux Lapins

This bit of French humour comes from the Ecce Homo blog. For those of you who didn't learn Latin at school, this roughly translates as "behold the man".

I hesitated for a while before posting this because I wasn't actually sure it was funny, in French or even after it was translated (perhaps something could have been lost in translation) into English.

For those of you who didn't learn any French at school (I'll put my hand up to that), as far as I can tell, the rabbit on the left is complaining about his "bad/evil" arse but the rabbit on the right can't hear him at all as his ears have been bitten off.

Excuse the grammar but pourquoi est-ce que ceci amuse?

Win Some, Lose Some

He might have beaten anorexia but it looks like he lost miserably to hyperphagia.

I Can't Believe It!!!!!

Has the American public gone completely insane? It's incredible that there should have been more votes for Sanjaya whose singing this week was completely crap than for AJ Tabaldo. That said, AJ came across as completely insincere when he said that he expected to leave the show this week. Absolute bollocks! He was waiting for Ryan Seacrest to announce that Sanjaya would be out, like the rest of us.

Granted that AJ wasn't one of my favourites, his singing both this week and last week was far and away better than Sanjaya's. How much longer will the American public keep him in the competition? Perhaps they should change it around to what it is like for Big Brother - vote for the one you want to have kicked out of the competition. It probably won't be as profitable a commercial enterprise as it is now if the voting paradigm was changed but it might see the better singers stay in the competition for longer.

Quite apart from the fact that Sanjaya's singing was awful this week, his (and I use the word in the broadest possible sense) androgynous look is actually very creepy. Hey Sanjaya, isn't it time for you to get gender reassignment surgery already?

Definitely My Type

The picture say it all. He's got everything I like a man.

Let's stop and go back a bit. He's very much my ideal man but for me, it's very much the sum of the whole rather than individual parts. Physical beauty fades with time and it's not the most important thing. Physical attractiveness is part of the equation but there needs to be a non-physical attraction as well. I'm not sure how I'd characterise that specifically but it means me being able to form some sort of intellectual, emotional and social connection.

That said, if someone knows how I can get in touch with the cute boy in the picture, or who he is for that matter, let me know. I'm going to send a proposal. Yes, that's what I meant, "proposal", not "proposition". You probably think I'm insane but if I had the chance to settle down with a guy like that, I'd quite readily give up having sex with other men for the rest of my life. In my eyes, he's the perfect physical specimen of manhood. Of course, he'll also need to have something as intellectually attractive between his ears as he does between his legs (the latter in a sexual way of course, it would be silly to think of his cock in a purely intellectual way!). It's probably a big ask but I do like my men buff and brainy. If you fit the bill and are not seeing anyone by September this year, let me know. I'd like to ask you out on a date. :)

Frank & Franc(esc)

The pictures above were part of an ugly but somewhat homoerotic scene from last Sunday's Carling Cup final between Chelsea and Arsenal which Chelsea won 2-1. Let me confess that my only interest in football lies with the cute men/boys who play the gayme and no prizes of what I think of Mr Frank "Testicles" Lampard and Mr (isn't he too young?) Francesc Fabregas.

If you pronounce "Lampard" in a slightly posh, French way, it sounds very much like the phrase meaning "testicles" in a certain southern Chinese (Fujian) dialect. It seems rather appropriate though seeing as he is no doubt regarded by many gay men (and straight women) as sex on legs. There's no doubt about it, Lampard is one sexy fucker.

Regrettably, the pictures were taken from a football match and not a porn film. You know how those porn films start (think Bel Ami) - two boys engaging in some horseplay - wrestling, play-fighting and soon the clothes come off and horseplay turns into sex-play. It's so easy to imagine Frank and Franc doing just that. The only thing which left me wondering was who'd top and who'd bottom. I have a feeling that Testicles is probably more suited to the role as a top and he'd give Cesc a good seeing to, leaving the young Spaniard wanting more of Frank's cock.

Seeing as this is my fantasy, I'd have them do a flip-flop and Franc now gets his chance to give Frank a good rogering. Testicles takes Franc's man-chorizo without so much as a whimper - he obviously takes it up the bum regularly - must all be thanks to his teammates, Joe Cole, John Terry and Wayne Bridge.

I think I need a cold shower now. The thought of all these hot football players in an orgy together is quite overwhelming.

Two Tumors

For those of you who appreciate decolletage, I present for your delectation, Miss Gong Li and her two "tumors" as they appear in the film "Curse Of The Golden Flower". I've not seen the film myself but it does look quite interesting. A friend from work (she's reasonably well-endowed and generally has a good figure so it's not that she's envious) made the comment that Gong Li's boobies are so "done" up for the film that they look like tumours. I'm no expert in the field when it comes to mammary glands so I can't really say. They do look facinating though but that's it. Not arousing whatsoever. I'm just curious as to what it is in the bodice that pushes them together and up like that. Does it make it difficult to breathe? For a closer look at the tumors, see the picture below.

Postscript (6th May 2007):
I saw Curse of the Golden Flower today. If Zhang Yimou was intending to make a film about dysfunctional families, he certainly succeeded. The film makes the point that dysfunctional families existed even at the time of the Tang Dynasty in China even though the phrase only came into common use in more recent years.

The film's dark themes of murder and incest formed a stark contrast against the glamour of the sets and the costumes. Incidentally, the "Golden Flower" referred to in the film is a chrysanthamum which becomes a symbol for the rebellion (against the Emperor) masterminded by a dying Empress who was involved in an incestuous relationship with her adopted (eldest) son, the Crown Prince who is also having an incestuous relationship with his half-sister. The English title of the film is quite misleading as it bears no relation to the original title in Chinese which literally means "The City Wears Golden Armour" (otherwise translated as "The City of Golden Armour") which refers to the armour worn by the troops involved in the rebellion (led by the Emperor's second son) and also the protective vest worn by the Emperor's youngest son, who despite being barely into his teens, kills his eldest brother (the one who had an incestuous relationship with his mother, the Empress) who is in turn mercilessly beaten to death by his father, the Emperor who despite his plaintive cries for mercy, dies about being struck repeatedly with a bejewelled gold belt.

The rebellion fails and towards the end of the film, the triumphant tyrant, dying Empress and bloodied second prince sit down to an ironic, celebratory feast. The Emperor grants his rebellious son a conditional pardon - that he undertakes to make sure that the Empress continues drinking the poison which the Emperor is feeding to her. Unwilling to do so, the prince commits suicide and there the film ends with a close-up of a tearful Empress.

If anything, the film illustrates how destructive a dysfunctional family dynamic can be, particularly if the family in question is a royal family with armies to command who then become pawns what is otherwise a domestic dispute.

Needed a change

All you (semi) regular visitors to my blog will probably have noticed that it's been given a new look. I was bored with the previous look and needed a change of scenery. I'll be changing the look of my blog again when I get bored with the current look. The changes won't be regular. They will depend on how quickly I get bored.