Tyrese Bans Men

Tyrese was once in my Sexiest Men list (it's a long list) along with Tyson Beckford. My Tyson-love waned when I happened to catch his appearance on the US version of I'm A Celebrity..., and I realised he apparently has no personality - which really isn't very attractive.

Tyrese (left) has a different set of problems. Is it just me or does he appear to be losing his boyish good looks? Anybody seen him lately? As if that isn't bad enough a crime, evidence is emerging to suggest he's also homophobic: perezhilton.com reports that Mr Gibson will be making his forthcoming "Shirts Off" tour (in which he'll 'perform' with Ginuwine and Tank) a man free zone: "We're putting a ban on all dudes from coming to the show." It occurs to me that as well as being grammatically incorrect, our not-a-Baby-Boy is worried about being looked upon in the flesh by - gasp! - men. Allegedly, Tyrese once stopped a concert when a male fan caught the shirt Gibson threw into the crowd and said, "Naw, dawg, that was for the ladies."

L.T. Dinwiddie at contrydiction.blogspot.com has this take on it: "A dollar is a dollar whether it’s from a man or a woman. Secondly, lets be real, I dont know any single woman who care(s) about Married with four kids-Ginuwine, woman beater-Tyrese, and boring as hell-Tank. The gays might be the only ones who can salvage your career(s). It’s obvious that the ladies don’t care because all three of their current releases bombed on the Billboard charts. It just amazes me that in 2007 we still have young, intelligent, black men still discriminating against others. These aren’t country bumpkins who have never been around a gay person in their lives. They’re industry boys. They are surrounded by more gay people then any non industry person could ever be."

So, could it all be a publicity stunt, designed to whip the ladies into a frenzy? Possibly. But it seems unlikely that a media whore like Tyrese would be unaware of the perception of such a decree.

Oh, and apparently he's a wife beater too - but you didn't hear it from me.

Death To Fag Ash Lil!

The country is half-flooded, Muslim nutjobs are trying to blow up Piccadilly Circus, Uncle Tony isn't Prime Minister any more, Fergie has a new single out, and Mad May has been carted off to the loony bin in EastEnders. Not a good week then, really.
It isn't all bad news, however, since from Sunday, smoking will be banned, outlawed, prohibited and forbidden, in public places across the country. Smokers are crying foul: their human rights have been eroded! Britain is turning into a nanny state! But their victims - those of us who've been choking on their putrid fumes for years - can rejoice. It's now going to be safe to enjoy a night out in pubs, bars and clubs, without having to endure a sore throat and stinking clothes the morning after - or even the odd burn from a rancid queen waving their fag about.
One tip for non-smokers though - since you won't be able to tell who is and who isn't an ash tray whilst you're within the walls of your favourite club, how can you tell if that boy you've picked up is a DL Fag Ash Lil.

Maybe it's time to bring back branding?

Mind Your Own Business

They’re at it again. Not content with being victimised by the breeding division of the human population, gays are still turning on each other.

Poor Rodney Chester, who probably thought he did a good job playing Alex in Noah’s Arc (which indeed he did) might well be wondering what he’s done to deserve the constant attacks on his character - and the characters of the other actors in our favourite gay drama (which it is).

Blog Rod 2.0, normally a jolly good read, is one of the many gay blogs which expresses the opinion that actors who play gay characters are bound to declare their true sexuality to the world. The reason for this viewpoint being that if that actor playing a gay character is in reality gay, then therefore it’s his duty, as a gay man, to tell everybody that he’s gay, and take on the responsibility of being a Role Model for gay people. The outrage on the part of militant gays seems to stem from actors in Noah’s Arc refusing to comment on their sexuality, rather than denying that they’re gay (although many would have us believe it amounts to the same thing). In a radio interview to promote the DVD release of season 2 of Noah’s Arc, Rodney Chester responded to a comment about being gay with a perfectly reasonable, “Who said I was gay?” Reasonable, I say, since he himself hasn’t said he’s gay. And if Rodney Chester hasn’t said he’s gay, then it ain’t my business or anyone else’s if he is or not.

Several of the actors in Noah’s Arc have taken this stance, and why shouldn’t they? They’re ACTORS. What goes on in their private lives has no relevance to their work - that‘s why it‘s called private life. Unfortunately, the cult of celebrity has blurred that line, and it’s now received wisdom that people in showbiz aren’t entitled to a private life. As Rod 2.0 puts it, “At best, the sexually ambiguous branding helped attract female fans; at worst it, alienated gay male fans.” Rubbish. If the “sexually ambiguous branding” does alienate a few righteous fags who think it’s their call what an actor does in their private life, whose loss is it? Did they stop watching Oz because Adewale Akinnouye-Agbaje isn’t really Nigerian? Or Silence Of The Lambs because Anthony Hopkins doesn’t really eat people?

Stop worrying about the actors being gay, not being gay, being out, not being out, and just be grateful that they do such a good job - for all of us.

Brian's Fishwife Hell

Let us return now to Brian-Watch. Our excitable Essex boy has been packed off on a traditional British caravan holiday (circa 1950) with our other Big Brother favourite, Charley. As a ‘reward’ for winning the knobbliest knees competition, Big Brother issued our chums with drab 1950s clothes, and banished them to a caravan in the garden. Unfortunately for Brian, neither he nor Charley can leave the caravan, nor can the other housemates come within the white picket fence bordering it. But by day two of their jolly break, Brian was fed up with Charley’s trademark whingeing, complaining to Carole about his proxy wife. Charley yelled: "I can hear you arseholes," to which Brian retorted: "That's because you're supposed to." Big Brother subsequently called the unhappy duo back to the house. At breakfast Laura remarked of a sullen looking Brian: “Brian looks mentally exhausted.” After a caravan holiday with Charley, it’s astonishing he’s still standing.
"Oh blimey! I better get a move on otherwise Charley'll throw a strop."
"Strewth. She's gonna go mental. I can hear 'er blood boiling from 'ere."
"God 'elp me. I'm in for a proper tellin' off tonight. She's not a woman you wanna disappoint, my Charley."
"BRIAN! GIT YOUR ARSE OUT 'ERE NOW! DON'T MAKE ME COME IN THERE FOR YA!"

Charley waits for Brian. It's not looking good for him.

"Look at the state of the garden Bri. God almighty.That fence needs paintin' in'all. And when are you gonna do sumfink about the leakin' roof? Call yourself a man? Git in the caravan, I need a seein' to. NOW!"

"That husband of mine's is gonna give me a good seein' to tonight if it kills him.
BRI! Git in the caravan. I'm not bein' funny but I've got needs."

"We don't talk like we used to Bri."

"That's 'cos I can't get a word in edgeways, darlin'."

"Bri are you gonna eat like that? I slave over a hot stove all day. Bri, say something. I'm not being funny or nuffink but this isn't the sort of life I wanted for myself. Bri! BRI!"

"Fetch me pipe and slippers there's a good girl."

"I'm a hen-pecked 'usband. Git me outta here."

"Stop faffing about Bri and git in 'ere you. Yer dinner's on the table."

Charley finally makes Brian pass out. Well, wouldn't you?

Pictures courtesy of Digitalspy.co.uk

Soldier Twins

Here's a photo of Jamaican twins, who are also soldiers. Why is this blogworthy? Well, they're twins. They're Jamaican twins. And they're soldiers. I think that just about covers it.

This snippet from Metro (a free commuter paper in the UK) is several months old, as I've only just peeled it off the fridge where it's on permanent display, and scanned it.

Now you too can enjoy the sight of these fine specimens of manhood on your very own computer.

White Australia: We Grew Here, You Flew Here

Controversy has erupted over an incident on the Australian version of Big Brother, in which contestants threw goo-filled bags at the Mexican flag. The Mexican government complained that the use of the Mexican flag was offensive and complained to Australia’s media regulator.

As anyone who knows me well can attest, I don’t like Australia. My hostility towards that Godforsaken sandpit, a dry, crusty scab on the ass of planet Earth, knows no bounds. Or, more accurately, my intense dislike for the occupiers of Her Majesty’s colony of Australia - let’s not forget that only around 1% of the continent’s population (yes, one percent) are native Aboriginal. The European invaders successfully wiped out most of the aboriginal populace, and the “White Australia Policy” restricted non-European immigration - and successfully persecuted the remaining black inhabitants (including forcibly removing newborn babies from black mothers, who weren’t considered fit to care for them) - until it’s abolition in 1975. Yes, that’s right, racism was officially sanctioned in Australia until 1975.

I had the misfortune to live in Australia from 1990, when I was ten years old, until 2002, and my experiences in that country were largely negative. Australians have successfully marketed themselves as happy-go-lucky, honest, fair-minded, non-discriminatory folk, but in truth are exactly the opposite of that. Xenophobia and racism, dressed up in an obsessive national patriotism that’s drummed into school children Nazi-style, is the order of the day. As an immigrant child I suffered racist bullying - taunted about my accent, my nationality (oh, the jokes about stupid Irish people and the IRA had me rolling in the aisles), and even my skin colour (I’m Irish, so too white for the perfectly tanned Aussies). Teachers were too busy singing the national anthem, or waving the Aussie flag to notice, and the truth is that in Australia, anyone who doesn’t look or sound “true blue Aussie” is ripe for victimisation. When I was seventeen, I started dating boys; my first boyfriend was Aboriginal, and simply being at his side I was given the dubious honour of seeing how our true blue Aussies view the black population - with suspicion, fear and disgust. The racism that Sean endured was, in turns, blatant and subtle, but always present.

I recall one occasion when a group of drunk Aussie Blokes threw a drunk Aboriginal woman off the last train of the night in Perth, whilst various authority figures turned a blind eye. On another occasion, an Asian woman with a toddler, having the gall to speak in her own language, provoked a fellow (Aussie) traveller, who was seething with anger, to remark spitefully as he left the train that she should “use English, [she] doesn’t know what country she’s in.” The woman didn’t bat an eyelid, suggesting that incidents of this kind were frequent enough.

Since I’ve lived in London, I haven’t managed to escape the Aussie curse. They’re everywhere. Despite proclaiming at every opportunity that Australia is the best country in the world, they can’t seem to spend enough time elsewhere. London’s a particular draw for the Aussie pest - in parts of West London you’re more likely to hear an Australian accent than any other - that, or be forced to step over an inebriated Aussie backpacker vomiting into the gutter. They even have their own pubs in the capital, where all the Aussies who flock to London congregate with other Aussies, or white South Africans (another subject in itself). Despite insisting that immigrants assimilate and take on the Aussie way of life in their own country, they stick to their own kind when overseas.

On 11th December 2005, the racial tensions bubbling away under the carefully crafted façade of tolerance in Australia, finally erupted into race riots. White Australian men attacked and assaulted two Middle Eastern men in separate incidents. At least three far-right organisations were involved, with slogans like “We Grew Here, You Flew Here", "Wog Free Zone", "Aussie Pride", and "Ethnic Clensing Unit". Towards the end of the year, drive-by shootings were occurring and a church next to an Islamic centre was set on fire.

As an aside, one only has to look to popular culture for proof of Australia’s dislike of the unlike. Despite Australia claiming to be a racial melting pot, the nation’s two long-running national soaps, Neighbours and Home And Away, both of which have been on since the mid-1980s, have never had a non-white face as a series regular. That’s right, in twenty years the country’s telenovellas haven’t notched up one single Aboriginal or Asian face. From my own experience, non-white faces on Australian television were rare. But it isn’t all doom and gloom, with broadcaster SBS devoted to “the multicultural voice of Australia” - and a good job it does too. I discovered the work of Tsai Ming Liang through the network, a sitcom from Singapore and Glenroe, a telenovella from Ireland, and films from every corner of the globe. But no one in Australia watches SBS - viewing figures are so low they often can‘t be measured.

I never could find a job in Australia. I guess my face, or voice, appearance didn’t fit. I never had a friend or lover who was Australian. Chinese? Tick. Malaysian? Tick. Korean? Tick. Visiting African-Americans? Tick (a marine and someone touring with Mariah Carey, for the record).

The Australian Big Brother incident might have been blown out of proportion, but it’s absolutely indicative of Australia: it’s an ugly place. I’m glad I managed to get out.

Man Trouble

Here are some gratuitous and pointless pictures of my favourite new Big Brother housemate. His name is Brian, he's 19 and from Essex (but we won't hold that against him). Brian is scared of animals.

Doctor Who at Pride

London's annual Pride parade is taking place this year on 30th June, which is, of course, a Saturday. This will have many a gay Doctor Who fan in a dither, because 30th June is also Doctor Who's season finale - but don't panic! The organisers of the festival, mindful of the show's not inconsiderable gay audience, will be showing the episode on a big screen in Trafalgar Square.

For diehard Doctor Who fans its a bizarre - if pleasant - state of affairs. It's pretty fair to say there was nothing remotely sexy about the world's longest-running science fiction series between 1963 and it's last episode in 1989. After its cancellation, the gap was filled by a range of original novels pusblished by Virgin, which were peppered with sex and swearing. Russell T. Davies, creater of Queer As Folk, penned the first intimation of gay sex in Doctor Who, with buff blonde cop from the future Chris Cwej hopping into bed with a boy from a 1990s London council estate.


Doctor Who was revived by the BBC - and Russell T. Davies - in 2003, and was a huge hit, now into a third series with a fourth coming next year. The show saw its first bisexual lead with John Barrowman playing Captain Jack, and its first gay kiss, between Jack and the Doctor (and later Jack and himself - don't ask). A raft of out gay actors have appeared, as well as straight actors who have previously played gay characters, and spin-off show Torchwood was a hotbed of gay sex antics. But the sexing-up of Doctor Who has been an acknowledgement of its large gay following, rather than growing organically from the show itself, which started life as an early evening children's adventure series.


Doctor Who is on BBC1 on Saturdays. The London Pride parade starts at 11a.m. on Saturday 30th June.

10 Sexiest Men On Television

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And now for something completely vacuous - just for the weekend. A recent bulletin on myspace on this subject plunged me deep into thought on this most serious of subjects. Just who are the sexiest men (and boys) on television right now? Here's my top ten dishes - but who are yours? The list is in alphabetical order (except for the J.D. Williams, who fully deserves the top spot) and comes complete with a token white boy. Enjoy.

01) JD Williams, The Wire ("Bodie")

J.D. Williams? Where do I start? He's racially ambiguous, so everyone's free to love him. He usually plays callous thugs, yet he has the face of an angel. Is it the lips? The eyes? Or that caramel-coloured, taut'n'toned physique we see tied down to a prison bed, naked, being caressed by Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje in an episode of Oz? Or do we just love a bad boy?

02) Aml Ameen, The Bill ("PC Lewis Hardy")

Aml Ameen might be better known for his role as Trife in Kidulthood. He's very, very, very cute - a lil luscious Londoner, in fact. If the London police uniform works for you, you'll be in heaven.

03) Luke Bailey, Casualty ("Sam Bateman")

In Casualty he played the hospital's bipolar receptionist. Anybody wanna look after him?

04) Gregory Keith, Noah's Arc ("Trey")

Like 'em big? They don't come much bigger than this strapping hunk of beefcake.

05) Mike Lombardi, Rescue Me ("Mike Silletti")

Rescue Me: there's so much testosterone sloshing about that you're in greater danger of drowning than being caught in a fire. In the show, this prime slice of Italian manhood is cute'n'dumb - a combination I'm partial to myself.

06) Adam Rodriguez, CSI Miami ("Eric Delko")

Lips. Lips. LIPS! Just imagine...

07) Henry Simmons, NYPD Blue ("Detective Baldwin")

Never before has a man so big, in every conceivable way, strutted across the screen. He's also staggeringly beautiful. Anyone catch THAT sex scene in NYPD Blue a few years ago? I did. I'm still recovering.

08) Daniel Sunjata, Rescue Me ("Franco")

Another big strapping New York fireman. Apparently Daniel Sunjata appeared in a play in which his character sexually assaults another man, a concept his hyper-masculine character on Rescue Me couldn't even comprehend. Which is a good thing. Obviously. Who saw the episode in Season One in which the crew bet upon who has the biggest appendage? Brings a tear to the eye...

09) Christian Vincent, Noah's Arc ("Ricky")

Well. Ricky. What can I say? You either want to be him, you want to do him, or you want to be done by him. Go on, admit it.

10) Reggie Yates, Doctor Who ("Leo Jones")

Yeah, the picture sucks (a good one's hard to find), but this yummy London lad, previously a youth TV presenter, is now starring in the current series of Doctor Who, playing the semi-regular brother of new girl Martha Jones. Needless to say, he's delicious and scrumptious. Someone recently pointed out to me that he also looks like one of my best friends, but I'd still do him. Reggie, I mean, not my mate. Probably. Is that wrong?

Behold The Deformed Swastika

The logo for the 2012 London Olympics has been wheeled out for the perusal of the general public. A snitch at just £400,000 ($US800,000) - coincidentally also the average price of a house in London -it apparently uses the date 2012, with the Olympic circles stuck somewhere in the top righthand corner as an afterthought. It comes in a range of colours - pink, blue, green and orange. Clearly the 2012 organising committee wants to prove its PC convictions by showing that it's colourblind.

The logo (referred to as a "brand" by everyone involved) is targeted at young people, in the same way that "trendy" BBC youth television of the 1980s was (i.e. a bunch of middeclass suits getting around a table and brainstorming what the kids are into these days). To this end, the jagged logo has a hint of graffiti art about it (or that's what they'd like us to think). Reaction has been largely negative - The People don't like it, but what do they know about art?

The phrase "deformed swastika" has been bandied about. It also has an air of the Nazi SS logo about it, which is nice. The BNP will be pleased. People who love the 1980s will also be pleased, since it looks like it was designed back then.

An online petition has been launched to scrap the abomination, and has already been signed by 5000 Londoners.

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