Nigella's Chewy Almond Macaroons v2

A few months ago, I posted an entry about these and I made the macaroons again today.

I've now reverted to Nigella's original (sort of) recipe which seemed to work better this time around - I'm not sure why.

The recipe I used today was as follows:

250g ground almonds
250g fine sugar
2 large egg whites
1 teaspoon mixed spice (for sweets)

Method:

Make a meringue in the usual way, fold in ground almonds. Put batter into piping bag and pipe onto cookie trays. Bake at 190 to 200 degrees Celsius (depending on your oven) for about 10 minutes. The final product when cooled will be chewy in the middle.

My previous modified recipe yielded a rather rollable dough which didn't happen this time. It was quite gooey and it struck me, after having seen Jamie Oliver do it so many times, that I could simply put the batter into a plastic bag and then pipe it out onto the baking tray, rather than to shape the balls by hand.

It took almost no time at all to finish. You don't need to be very fancy with the piping because they batter loses its shape and forms a round biscut at the end of the baking process. Because of this, leave lots of room between each macaroon so they don't stick together. They're also paler than the earlier version.

I'm quite pleased with the current version and unless you really love the earlier version, I suggest you ditch it for this one.

What Are Those?

I saw this on my way back from the supermarket this morning. I can't imagine why I never spotted them previously but I was agog with curiosity and made a detour to take some snaps.

They appear to be some sort of storage facility but they're very curiously shaped.

If anyone reading this knows what they are, please get in touch.

Are You Smarter Than.....?

For many years now, I thought that The Simpsons was plumbing the depths of stupidity on television but this has now been overtaken by another television programme which also airs on Sky One.

This television programme rejoices in the name of "Are You Smarter Than A 10 Year Old?". Elsewhere in the world, including Australia, it's broadcast as "Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader?".

The Australian version is very watchable because the host is the very handsome and recently widowed Rove McManus.


I recently watched the US version as well and in the episode which I saw, the first contestant was an extremely handsome man, which most of us gay boys would kill for but had a very plain-looking girlfriend whom he proposed to (and she accepted - I would have too, if he proposed to me) after winning only $50,000 out of a possible $1 million.

The premise of the gameshow truly boggles the mind. Adult contestants are given money to answer questions which primary school children are expected to know the answers to without getting any money for!

I can't help but think that the children are being shortchanged.

Weekend Hunting

I was out hunting this weekend. Actually, Friday night to be precise.

I went to the spa straight after work and as luck would have it the US Navy (the USS TARAWA) was in town. It's very obvious who they were - well-built young guys with buzz cuts.

I had my way (or rather, it was mutual) with one of them. He was one of them strong, silent types. I was very tempted to ask about the "don't ask, don't tell" policy and how he's coping with it - obviously one way of coping is to visit places like this. I enjoyed the thought of imagining him in his uniform and me taking it off, bit by bit.

He didn't seem up for much conversation so I left it at that.

It's not always the sort of place to make a personal connection. It's usually a fleeting encounter - each guy gets what he's come (pun intended) for and then we go our separate ways, perhaps on to another encounter.

It was a good night's hunting all in all - I managed to get off 3 times and was quite exhausted afterwards.

I wasn't expecting to get any sort of personal connection out of the encounters and it's not the sort of place - there are exceptions though - I met J at a place like this and it was an encounter which changed my life.

It's becoming clearer to me as time goes on that I can't keep going to these sorts of places indefinitely and I will need to settle down with a guy. It's not that I don't - I truly do but I've not met the right one yet.

Perhaps that's not entirely true. I think I've met the right one but circumstances don't permit us to be together. Then there's JH from Manchester. We've only met once and I quite fancy him but I don't know how he feels about me. I might get to see him in February but that's a big maybe. Hopefully will get to talk to him more to find out. The last time we had a night out doing a bar crawl in Canal Street, he had to duck out early as he wasn't feeling well so I didn't get to be with him as long as I'd liked but I remember kissing him goodbye twice which was once more than the other guys who were leaving and perhaps he got the hint. I should take my own advice and ask him straight up - the worst that can happen is that he says no and I'm no worse off than I am now.

Why does love have to be so complicated?

If there's any smart, sorted guys out there who might be interested in a date, please get in touch. Love to hear from you.

Postscript - 17th December 2007
It turns out that my encounter on Friday may not have been with a sailor but with a Marine instead. Not that it makes an difference to the outcome.

Oh Crap

I mean that literally.

I was driving to work today and my windscreen was splattered. What was worse was that my car was in motion at the time.

It must have been flying crap.

I've since washed it off - not that I'm obsessive about keeping my car clean. I'm not the sort of guy who washes his car every weekend, much less every day. I can put up with a bit of mud and dust but I absolutely draw the line at crap on my car.

Incidentally, while looking for pictures to illustrate this post (the things I do to amuse my readers), I came across a rather interesting website. I'm not sure whether it's taking the piss but it seems amusing enough. Take a look a look and make up your own mind.

Someone From My Past

Someone contacted me on Facebook today.

I didn't remember him at first - his picture was unfamiliar.

It turns out that the last time we'd seen each other, we were both 14.

He was my first.

The first boy who touched me sexually.

Why didn't I remember initially?

It was a pleasant, if awkward experience then - it wasn't something I'd want to forget.

He's not married either.

I wonder if he's gay?

Self-Exploration

Sorry I've not been posting entries for a while. My life has been a bit of a roller-coaster since I joined Shell. Mostly good but it's not left me much time for introspection.

I've been doing some reflection these last few weeks and have reached the following conclusions:

1. I initially saw blogging as self-indulgent but it's become a tool for self-discovery; and

2. I think I'm reading to start dating again.

Perhaps 2 follows from 1 but I'll explore these in later entries.

In the meantime, I hope to post a retrospective entry about the end of the Rugby World Cup sometime this weekend and also a few things (in a separate post) as to what's been going on in my head these last few weeks.

I've been sitting at home all weekend drafting contracts for a series of meetings starting on Monday and while drafting contracts, it's helped to focus my mind on some of the things in my life outside of work - strange but true.

Love Poetry

I indicated in a previous entry I've been doing some thinking about what makes me tick and recently I came across a couple of blog entries by some guys on MySpace which made me think.

It's apparently no coincidence that I seem to fall for guys who write poetry, especially those who write me poetry.

I've been in a somewhat melancholic moody (but not depressed - just melancholic in an introspective sense) and these two poems really spoke to me.

The first is by Jose. I've tidied it up a bit and the original sentiment is still very much apparent

To The One
In this world
I have you to look forward to
The day you walk into my life
And bring joy to my life

When we take longs walks on the beach
Holding each other's hand
Walking with bare feet
Looking at the stars

When we watch a film
Holding each other's hand
Being close to each other
Our hearts connecting

When we walk down the street
Showing everybody who we are
How much we love each other
Showing the world we belong together

The fights we will have
The arguments that will come
The "I'm sorrys" and "I love yous"
The smiles, the laughs
The good times and the bad
Knowing in the end
We were meant to be together

This is what I'm looking forward to
This is where I want to meet
At the end of this path
I hope to find you there

The other one is by Elliot Phillips and it's called "Love Is Like An Open Silence":

Love is like an open silence.
Love is like a barren land.
Love is like a winters day,
So cold and empty.
Love is like a broken silence,
Ending in a ghoulish dream.
Snaking around my tree house,
Cutting my trunk right down.
Falling from the highest branches,
Down to the snowdrift land,
Emerging like a ripe red berry
Shimmering in the snow....

Love is like a broken virgin,
Weeping in the grass.
Sinking through the murky waters,
Never quite feeling clean.
Love is like a moonstruck lover,
Grieving for her chosen man.
'Ashes To Ashes' Darling,
Her baby cries tonight.

Silence consumes us all.
The heavens consume us all.
The earth consumes us all,
To search for our chosen one.
Love is like an open silence…

Admittedly the poems which were written for me were a lot more erotic. Actually they were overtly sexual but I thought these two were quite moving as well.

A (Notional) Milestone

It's finally happened.

The number of friends which I now have on MySpace has crossed the 1000 mark.

It's a milestone but only a notional one in that I don't know all 1000+ of them, much less met them all. Some gay guys on MySpace have claimed to have shagged all their friends on MySpace and they have several thousand friends - a rather hyperbolic claim, I suspect.

The reality is that while I would like to get to know all 1000+ friends much better than I do now, there simply aren't enough hours in a day.

I'm hoping to at least send them birthday greetings, if not have some sort of email correspondence with some of them.

It will come as no surprise that all of them are boys - some straight, some gay, some bi and some undecided. It doesn't really matter though.

Perhaps I'm hoping for too much but among the 1000+ friends I have, there's a guy whom I really like but who's so far declined my friend invitation. This is him:

He's Greg Bradford and he's from Fayetteville, Arkansas. He's a few years older than I am and when I read his profile, I nearly fell off my chair. I couldn't believe how compatible we were in terms of our interests. Not only that, he's also handsome and smart - everything a gay boy could want.

According to his profile, he's single and I assume, available so if any of you out there who are looking, there's an amazing guy out there who's single and I'm sure would make anyone a fantastic boyfriend.

Another Dream

I'm not really sure how this latest one should be characterised.

I've been preoccupied with something recently (which I may post in another entry - will need to talk to someone about it first) but strangely enough, my mind has decided to go with something else in this latest dream.

In this one, I was on a cross-country roadtrip in Singapore with someone (I don't remember - it wasn't very clear in the dream but I might have been with a group of friends). This is highly improbable as you can drive the country from end to end in about an hour, depending on the traffic.

In any event, as we were driving past a particularly rural area, something happend to our car and we were forced to pull over to the side of the road. Fortunately there was a house nearby which was built close to the road - elevated and partly obscured by a hedge, out of which I heard an irascible male voice with a South-African accent and the man claimed to be "the rule of law" in that area. Thoughts of apartheid South Africa entered my mind.

We decided not to go to that house for help and tried to find a neighbour instead. We were quite fortunate and and managed to find one nearby who told us that the South African was a local judge who had set a road-trap for unwary visitors to the area. Apparently he had a hole made just off a side road where our car had broken down and put a small African boy in it as a sort of lookout. He had also installed sensors on the side of the road near where the car had first broken down to trigger the device which was intended to damage passing cars.

I remember feeling infuriated about this - so much for this boermens [apologies to my South African friends who mignt be reading this - I know it is racist but it's only a dream] claiming to be the "rule of law". I hate my private property rights being infringed and I don't care who you are, even if you are the Lord Chief Justice - we are going to fight it out in court - and I intend to win.

First thing my posse and I did was to go to the little fox-hole and drag the African boy out of it and force him to tell us about the sensors and where they were installed. When we managed to get that out of him, we went and smashed up the sensors which were strangely enough, some ball-bearings embedded in a wooden pole and a laser. Afterwards, we dragged the African boy and stormed into the South African's house. I had to decide how to play it whether to go in with verbal guns blazing or to try a more reasoned approach. My instincts were telling me to go with the latter - must be my inherent respect of members of the judiciary kicking in after so many years practising at the Admiralty Bar.

Strangely enough, the South African wasn't in the least surprised to see us and he was going about his business while we exchanged legal arguments about the rule of law, the enforcement thereof and our respective roles in the process. I remember explaining why I declined to address him as "My Lord" as Singapore was a republic and therefore I would adopt the mode of address as was appropriate in Singaporean proceedings. It was also me making the point that I was intending to have this debate on as near a footing as equals as our respective positions allowed us.

The South African seemed very willing to engage in debate - it was almost very congenial - like two learned friends having a discussion about a particularly tricky point of law - firm and intellectually uncompromising but with no hard feelings between the parties afterwards.

I don't remember how the matter was resolved as the dream sort of ended in a fade-out.

Misrepresentation

It will come as a relief to many of you that I don't intend to pontificate on the law as it relates to misrepresentations - innocent, fraudulent or otherwise.

Some of you will no doubt recognise this incredibly beautiful boy as "Danny" from Sean Cody but who in real life, assures me that he's Roger from Barnsley. I know very little about Barnsley and like many people who have lived in the south of England for most of their lives, anything north of Watford is quite mysterious - all I know about Barnsley is that it's got a football (soccer) club which is currently 6th in the Coca-Cola League but that's about it.

I was logged on to MySpace IM late yesterday evening wondering whether another friend of mine might be online and Roger IMd me. He said he was bored and horny.

I was a bit sceptical about his identity at first as I recognised his default picture as "Danny" from Sean Cody and there's lots of people on MySpace who "borrow" pictures of other people to use as their default picture. Sometimes it's obvious that they do but sometimes it's not and in this case, I couldn't be sure as the biographical information on Sean Cody was inconsistent with his profile on MySpace.

I tried to be subtle about raising the identity issue and I hope I didn't offend him but he seemed to try very hard to convince me that Danny was actually Roger. I didn't need much convincing and was happy to accept him for who he.

To some extent, most of us who have an online identity probably use an assumed name and in the world of adult modelling this is, I understand, all the more true. In this respect, I'm no different - not that I'm in the adult modelling business - but I use an assumed name when I'm online - you can never be too careful about these things.

I soon came to realise that the biographical information for "Danny" couldn't be further from the truth and Roger confirmed that it was all made up. I frankly don't understand why the writers of Sean Cody needed to make up a story about "Danny". Most, if not all the visitors to the site are probably gay and don't need to be fed a made-up straight boy models for a gay website to find the models insanely attractive. Speaking for myself, I'm just as attracted to a gay guy who is from Barnsley as I would be to a straight guy from the American midwest if he looked anything like Roger.

As far as appearance is concerned, Roger definitely my type but he is so out of my league. I suspect that he is either taken or fancies someone else - Harry - who also happens to be a model on Sean Cody. I told Roger I thought he was cute which was a considerable understatement - I simply didn't want to come across as a big lech.

It was close topast midnight and I had to work today so we didn't get to chat much. He seemed nice enough though but I would have liked to have talked to him more - it was a fairly superficial conversation about interests (sex-related) and where the various cruisy places are around Bondi and Manly. I hope he's on IM again in the not too distant future - I'd like to get to him better.

In the meantime, he said that he's done a video with Billy off Sean Cody but that's not yet up on the website. I'll be looking forward to seeing it. Roger says that Billy is his type - I competely agree - Billy is also definitely my type.

Out of respect for Roger, I've not pasted any nakie pictures of him in this entry - if you want to see them, you'll need to either contact Roger on MySpace or check out "Danny" on Sean Cody.

Another Strange Dream

I've not had the all my teeth falling out nightmare for a while but my latest dream, or perhaps nightmare, depending on your perspective, suggests that I have some sub-conscious anxieties which I am repressing.

In my dream, I was supposed to be 1 of 2 organists at some imperial coronation being held at the completed Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. Immediately, this dream is improbably in the present because:

1. The Sagrada Familia is still under construction, and will be for quite a while yet
2. There is no imperial family in Spain and it is unlikely that there ever will be
3. Why would I have been asked to be an organist at this coronation seeing as I am now "retired"?

Yes, I came out of retirement for my cousin's wedding a few years ago but have since returned to a blissful retirement - what I used to do as an organist almost seems like another life now, particularly as it is something which reminds me of my ex and those are memories which I'm in no rush to relive.

In the dream, we were at rehearsals prior to the coronation and I was directing the choir while the other organist was accompanying. Rehearsals then stopped for a while for the other organist and I to have some sort of discussion about the music and then I went up to the organ loft to rehearse my composition which was to be premiered at the coronation. I was not planning to direct this and was going to perform my own compostion and let the other organist direct the choir and orchestra.

I remember going up to the organ loft, first passing the secondary console in the nave which seemed to be extraordinarily huge. The loft was directly above the high altar and it was a very scary ascent. The stairs were very narrow and steep and from the height of the loft, I felt a bit queasy looking down into the nave.

Strangely enough, the loft seemed quite cramped and apart from the main console there was a little "booth" where we could watch the rest of the proceedings. At that point, I started to panic. This was a very late arrangement and I had been asked to step in for some other organist (yes, it happened many times in the past - really) and at this point in the dream, apart from having to perform my own composition, I was completely unprepared - I had no cassock or surplice and certainly no hood and what if I needed to be in the procession? I suddenly felt wave upon wave of panic assault my senses and that was when I woke up in a cold sweat.

This dream is obviously a reflection on how I hate losing control over the events in my life but why this particular setting? It is not a recent memory of something - in fact it is something completely implausible.

Is my mind trying to tell me something? I wonder........

The Shape Of Things To Come

This is the EMMA MAERSK and she is one m!@#$%-f^&*!@# big container ship.

She is currently the largest container ship in the world and her specs are as folllows:

Dimensions:

length overall (LOA) = 1302' 6" (397 m)

beam = 183' 8" (56 m)

hull depth = 98' 4" (30 m) (deck edge to keel)

draft = 50' 10" (15.5 m)

Tonnage
gross = 170,974 gt
net = 55,396 nt
deadweight (DWT) = 156,907 DWT

For more information, have a look at the Wikipaedia entry here.

A Welcome Distraction

As seen on my morning commute to work several months ago. Cute isn't he?

Shame about the girl in the foreground reading her book - she does so spoil the picture.

My Mistake

With hindsight, perhaps buying the Lexus IS250 was a mistake. Up until now I've never thought of myself as a sports car driving person but now I don't think I can get enough. I watched a documentary tonight about the making of a Ferrari 599 Fiorano and I can't see myself driving any other car which does not have multiple exhausts and pedal shifts.

My ideal car as always been an Aston Martin and that's nothing to do with the association with Commander Bond. I had always thought of an Aston Martin as the car I would ultimately aspire to because of the craftsmanship that goes into the making of each car. Here's a selection of 4 different Aston Martins - I'm no car expert and they all seem to look very much alike to me.

One of my colleagues at Shell comes from a family who owns an Aston Martin dealership and I said, rather jokingly, that any idiot with money can go out and buy a Ferrari but it takes a person with taste to buy an Aston Martin. I was of course, referring to myself.

However, after watching the documentary this evening on the making of the 599 Fiorano, I was impressed by how Ferrari regards the making of each car as very much a work of art, as it is a piece of very advanced technology. I had no idea that Shell had such a close relationship with Ferrari either - there were Pectens all over the uniforms. I was previously under the impression that Shell's association was solely restricted to Ferrari's F1 division but it's obvious that our corporate links go much further than that.

While I would have previously never even considered the possibility of buying a Ferrari (not that I could now - I simply don't have that much cash - perhaps when I become one of the General Counsel in Shell I might). It's still not my top choice.

Following closely behind the Aston Martin is the Jaguar XK - this is another beauty.

Apart from its exterior aesthetics, it's got an innovative interior as well:

Perhaps this is the shape of gear knobs of the future. I know that Volvo is also planning something similar for its XC60 concept car.

As it is, Volvo as already introduced a "slim-line" central instrument panel which is already in use on the C70 and S40:

Hopefully by the time the new S60 is launched in 2009, it will incorporate this same central instrument panel with something similar to the XC60/Jaguar knob technology.

Now that's a car I will definitely want.

Horological Beauty

Meet my new acquisition:

It's a limited edition Tag Heuer SLR. It's not actually the SLR which is only available to the Mercedes Benz McLaren SLR owners - that's an even more limited edition - for sale only to the owners of the SLR of which McLaren makes only about 20 every year.

My SLR is a rather my plebian variant - only 3500 have been made and I have number 2678 in my possession.

I've still been thinking about the Marine Breguet but it's actually quite an ordinary looking watch and the only reason why it costs what it does is because of it's Breguet name. I'm now having second thoughts about it but when I have enough 6-figure $$$ to buy either the Breguet twin tourbillon or the Breguet skeleton watch, I'll think about it.

Can you now see why I salivate wildly whenever I see these watches? In a moment of madness I briefly contemplated buying myself a replica Breguet but the madness has lifted but I'm worried that it might return.

Recently I also came across an antique Breguet which looks quite different:

Modern tourbillon watches actually display the tourbillon on the face whereas when the tourbillon was first invented, it was viewed as a more functional aspect of the watch, rather than something which contributed to its aesthetic appeal and was consequently hidden away from view, either way it's a thing of beauty.

It's going to be a long while before I can think of buying myself a tourbillon but in the meantime, I can happily dream of one of these:

This is the soon to be released Tag Heuer Grand Carrera, one of several in the Grand Carrera line. I've been told that they will be on the market before the end of the year but will be a limited production and I think I will use my Christmas money to finance the purchase of one of these beauties. I can't decide whether to get the one with the black face or the white face. The black-faced one is nice because of the contrast but the white-faced one is nice because it's nice a bright. At the moment, I 'm leaning towards the white-faced one as I just bought the black-faced SLR. In any case, I've got a few more months to decide which one I want.

A Very Strange Dream

I had a quasi erotic dream last night - quasi erotic because it was of a sexual nature but it was a sort of soft-porn dream, nothing hardcore.

If it was a film, I'd say it was a eclectic but nevertheless clever montage of several things which I experienced this week which included:

1. A visit to the Fatface shop Covent Garden
2. The film "Hero"
3. Abercrombie & Fitch
4. An Atlantis holiday

How do all these things figure in my dream?

Well, the dream started with me and a group of gay boys (the Atlantis connection) disembarking from a turbo-prop aircraft in what appeared to be an airstrip in rural Alaska but it turned out that our destination was actually Jiuzhaigou in Sichuan province in China. I've not actually been there but I recognised it from the locations for the film, Hero.

Our group was led by an Australian boy which was odd, not only because we were in China but also because he looked exactly like the cute English store manager at Fatface. I'd chatted with the store manager a few days previously but was too gutless to give him my number or to ask him out and it must have preying been in my subconscious mind.

After a half day of sightseeing in Jiuzhaigou, we stopped at the top of a cliff for lunch and I took the opportunity to sit with the cute Australian boy. We sat there for a bit, not saying anything, taking in the view. From where we were sitting, we could see the rock face of the mountain opposite us and we could see a moose scrabbling along a narrow path up the mountain (this must have been the Abercrombie connection). We then got to talking and he seemed to be unhappy. He was telling me a sad story about his uncle and then he started crying. I moved closer put my arm around him to comfort him and he started referring to his uncle as his husband. I remember feeling very sorry for him and when he stopped crying, he looked at me like a sad puppy needing love and I simply couldn't resist. I held him close to me and we kissed passionately.

Unfortunately the dream ended there. I was very disappointed that the dream didn't continue and I don't know why I have these dreams. They're quite bizarre and have no correlation with reality whatsoever but the mind is a strange thing, especially the subconscious mind.

Memories & Desires

I went "shopping" for watches today. It was strictly of the "window" variety.

I spent my morning at a watch exhibition which featured the likes of but not limited to Breguet, Bulgari, Tag Heuer, Richard Mille, Breitling and was sorely tempted. There was not a Timex in sight! :)

I finally saw in real life the Tag Heuer Carerra concept chronograph:

It will never be a production model as Tag Heuer, for some inexplicable reason completely ignored feedback from the watch-buying public and came up with a crappy looking version as the production model. That much was admitted by Tag Heuer's rep at the exhibition. Sometimes, the Swiss just aren't very smart.

Apart from that I also went to see what sort of tourbillon watches would be on show. I've mentioned elsewhere on this blog my facination with tourbillon watches and I saw quite a few today.

I was very taken by these 3 Breguet tourbillons, especially the twin tourbillon:

Unfortunately there were all completely out of my price-range. Let's just say that they all cost more than my Lexus and my credit card limit does not extend to the 6-figure range. In some places in the UK, you can buy a little house for the cost of one these watches.

I've since set my sights on something a bit more realistic and it's going to be one of the two below:

I'm thinking of using forthcoming my Christmas money to finance the purchase. At the moment, it's more likely to be the one on the left, which is a Breguet from the Marine collection as the Grand Carerra (the one on the fight) seems not to be available at the moment. Will speak to my usual watch dealer to find out. The Breguet is more within my price-range, high 4-figure to low 5-figure and the Grand Carerra, like most Tag Heuers are well within the 4-figure range. I can buy both using my credit card and I have a revolving credit facility on my card which lets me pay for purchases such as these over a period of 3 years, interest-free so buying it won't be a problem. The only downside to using the revolving credit facility is that it "uses up" my credit limit on my account.

While at the exhibition, I met several old school friends, like me probably wearing their most presentable watch. I had on my titanium Breitling but another of my friends was wearing a Breguet.

Quite apart from the fact that I fancied a couple of them (and still do, after seeing them), it made me feel like I was back in school again.

Perhaps I should explain. I went to an all-boys school all my life until I went to university. It was a very accepting sort of school in the social sense and in some respects the academic sense. There was room for boys who, may not have done well in the run up to the GCSEs and As but were nevertheless allowed to stay because of their sporting achievements. This sometimes created a rather fractured social dynamic but by and large, boys being boys, tend to be less bitchy than girls and most of us have known each other since we were 7 so it wasn't much of any issue.

The other aspect to the school social dynamic was means. This varied quite a lot. There were many (I'd say at about 50%) who were very well-off: old money, titled, (multiple) stately home owning, Aston Martin driving (yes, daddy bought it for them for passing their driving test) sorts. Of the other 50%, 35% were from families whose parents were professionals and as such, moderately well-off (I was in this category) and the remaining 15% or so were not as well-off as the rest. It was the sort of school where being at either extreme of any spectrum was not necessarily helpful to fitting in and when I met some of my friends at the watch exhibition, it was a sort of instantantaneous, unspoken assessment of the social pecking order again.

Thankfully, I didn't come out too badly. I had always been somewhere in the middle in terms of means and sporting ability but definitely at the top in terms of academic ability and so had a degree of respectability in school. In the context of where we met, among the watches worn by my friends, my Breitling was behind the Breguets but at least ahead of the Omegas and Tag Heuers and I was rather relieved. One of the Breguet boys is the heir to the Copthorne/Millennium hotel group empire.

As I mentioned previously, I fancied a couple of them while we were still in school and one of them doesn't appear to be married and the other one is but was not wearing his ring like he usually is. He said that he get's Saturday off for "me time" and was meeting someone female friend for lunch later. All very suss. Maybe he's having an affair! I don't know for sure, it's just speculation on my part. He had a repuation for being a wolf in sheep's clothing out on the prowl for unsuspecting girls but those of us who know him know that he's actually a sheep' in wolf's clothing.

What Do These Have In Common?

Let me start this post with a caveat.

I'm pissed.

I just got back from a rather boozy lunch and sent some drunken emails to a few friends in which I might have said some inappropriate things and for which I will probably have to apologise for tomorrow but that can wait.

We had some overseas visitors today and to celebrate their visit, we went out and had a nice lunch, accompanied by 4 bottles of wine between the 6 of us. Needless to say, not much work will be done this afternoon although I have a conference call with some fellow piss-artistes from one of the Magic Circle firms and Durban. Should be able to manage that without letting on.

In the meantime, I need to sober up. A lemon would be handy.

I find that sucking on a lemon helps clear the mind of alcohol-induced fuzziness very quickly.

Here's some lemons:

Don't they look nice and juicy?

Lemons are all very well and apart from their usefulness in dispelling hangovers and in cooking, are not exactly the most interesting things to suck on.

Cocks on the other hand are much more fun to suck on. When I say "cock", I mean "penis" and the human variety, I might add. I'm not into bestiality, if you must know.

Here's a nice picture of a cock which looks eminently suckable,

It's also nice, juicy and hard.

My favourite variety!

If only I could get a cock could squirt lemon juice instead of cum, I'd be able to suck on my favourite thing and get over a hangover at the same time.

Hands off that patent. It's mine!!!

And yes, you thought I'd forgotten the answer to the question I posed earlier didn't you?

So what do lemons and and an erect penis have in common?

It's a drunk and horny gay boy that's what!

Simple, isn't it?

What's In A Handshake?

Here's another comic strip from www.explosm.net:

And here's my version - for gay boys:

With my apologies to the creator of the original comic strip.

Well, maybe not. I quite enjoyed distorting the original.