Ok so I have to come out of the closet.
The truth is that for some time now I've been living a lie.
On the surface I've been living like a normal person; going to work, drinking with friends, going to see movies etc but at night, behind closed curtains I've been hiding a shameful secret.
It involves strange costumes, unusual positions and a bizarre mix of partners. Yes, the truth is, I've embraced the lifestyle of a gay man.
I love Strictly Come Dancing.
Oh it feels so good to say it out in the open! Nobody understands my compulsion to watch this show. Saturday evening prime-time on BBC1 is normally for grannies and kids; not for young, single people with exciting social lives (ahem...).
I mean - it's hosted by Bruce Forsythe for God's sake!
I didn't mean to get hooked. It started off casually; I'd watch the odd Saturday show not knowing my quickstep from my samba. But after a while I stopped missing shows on any day; the weekend performances and results show would fuel my hunger and suddenly I was watching the commentary show "It Takes Two" every night of the week.
From Brendan's illegal use of extra lifts to Kate's hopeless stomping, Kenny's kilted Paso Doble to Barnes' wicked salsa--I love it all. I spending significant quantities of work time surfing youtube for videos of interviews or performances and I'm even keeping an eye on the online forums where fans discuss the show (quite a few of them out there Ill tell you...)
I'm a SCD nerd.
How did this happen?
Well truthfully Strictly Come Dancing has something this year it had no other year: Gethin Jones.
This beautiful Welsh hunk of a Blue Peter presenter is by far the most attractive person to grace my television in years. And more than just a fit body he has a soft Welsh accent, excessive modesty, excellent manners, the ability to dance and he's wonderful with kids. Women everywhere will understand the rarity of a package like this.
His switch from kids programming to Strictly has earned him many, many new female admirers. I swear - I haven't had a crush on a TV personality like this since the age of 14.
I need help....or at least some friends to join me in my madness. Take a look at the videos and tell me Gethin's not beautiful--go on - I dare ya.
Another month of this and I'm going cold turkey I promise - I'll have to - the show only goes on till Christmas :(
In the meantime - keep dancing!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
Corked
Look I have a job now...I have no time for this silly blog writing.
Don't look at me like that!
I'm sorry alright?
SORRY!
Won't leave it so long between blogs again I promise.
Who am I promising anyway?
It's not like I have readers anymore....sniff, sniff.
Disloyal, fickle gadabouts!
Ok enough of a rant...do I have any news?
Well the job's going well--still learning lots and the pay isn't as bad as I'd expected. That's as much as you can ask for really.
Outside of work I've been socialising quite a bit (the main reason for the paucity of blogs) and the debauchery climaxed at the annual Inniscarra Cork Jazz Festival Bank Holiday weekend.
After last year I swore never again. Never again would I grace the O'Brien Den of Inequity where the souls of the departed walk freely among the living (and that's before the Halloween costume party begins), never again the excesses which make Nero's Rome look like a kid's birthday party, never again the week of illness afterwards when your body sues your brain for damages--I couldn't this year--no mid-term in which to recover!
And yet I found myself there among the spider webs and pumpkins, in a silly outfit, consuming any liquid offered me (two words: Buck fast), visiting the Inniscarra Bar, sampling the 'special' flapjacks, jiving to the bands and DJs, checking out many of the pubs in Cork that begin with 'C', bopping to Rob Strong's band at Scott's...........and finally leaving, a shell of my former self on Bank Holiday Monday.
Suffice to say I didn't make into work will 2pm on Tuesday and had the least productive week's work since my last week at the Grammar School....
Cork-- I shake my fist at thee. I lost the battle but, mark my words, I will the war.......
Don't look at me like that!
I'm sorry alright?
SORRY!
Won't leave it so long between blogs again I promise.
Who am I promising anyway?
It's not like I have readers anymore....sniff, sniff.
Disloyal, fickle gadabouts!
Ok enough of a rant...do I have any news?
Well the job's going well--still learning lots and the pay isn't as bad as I'd expected. That's as much as you can ask for really.
Outside of work I've been socialising quite a bit (the main reason for the paucity of blogs) and the debauchery climaxed at the annual Inniscarra Cork Jazz Festival Bank Holiday weekend.
After last year I swore never again. Never again would I grace the O'Brien Den of Inequity where the souls of the departed walk freely among the living (and that's before the Halloween costume party begins), never again the excesses which make Nero's Rome look like a kid's birthday party, never again the week of illness afterwards when your body sues your brain for damages--I couldn't this year--no mid-term in which to recover!
And yet I found myself there among the spider webs and pumpkins, in a silly outfit, consuming any liquid offered me (two words: Buck fast), visiting the Inniscarra Bar, sampling the 'special' flapjacks, jiving to the bands and DJs, checking out many of the pubs in Cork that begin with 'C', bopping to Rob Strong's band at Scott's...........and finally leaving, a shell of my former self on Bank Holiday Monday.
Suffice to say I didn't make into work will 2pm on Tuesday and had the least productive week's work since my last week at the Grammar School....
Cork-- I shake my fist at thee. I lost the battle but, mark my words, I will the war.......
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