Venice, Cornwall and Trannyshock

Well that’s my summer holidays over. Just had two rather pleasant weekends away in Italy and Cornwall. Hardly jet setting I grant you but it’s as good as it gets for me at the moment.

First up, was booked for a gig near Udine, Italy (about 90k north of Venice) for the company Coco Song (new Italian sunglasses company) for a fashion show as singing MC.
Up at 4 to get a taxi (driver drove like my Mum; all over the place and hogged the middle lane on the motorway) to fly to Venice. Arrived fine and had to go to the other airport to pick up other people and wait for a few hours-painful.

Arrived at the very nice Hotel Clocchiatti (bed could have easily slept four and the bath was the deepest I’d ever seen.) and went for a trundle around Udine. Amazed that such a small and quiet town would have a Fendi, Gucci etc well it is Italy. I guess it’s like New Look to them.

Was picked up by one of the models to go to location, big ol Villa Caiselli in
Cortello (in a car he clearly didn’t know how to drive, shunted every time he changed gear). Nice to see Andy Anderson again. Absolutely stunning location. Lord knows how much it was costing them as there were international clients, string quartet, band, me, DJ and models, free booze and food all night etc.

Wasn’t told previously that I’d be sharing a stage with MC Spot. I think I’ve mentioned him before. Nice enough guy but his skills as an MC leave a lot to be desired and are rather dated. There are only so many times you can say ‘Yeah yeah yeah c’mon. Put your hands in tha air’and do the robot without a hint of irony. Yes THE robot. And apparently this has been his act for 10 years. Ach them Austrians with their keep to what we know rather than try anything new.

Had dinner with Andy and some of the models (all very sweet and cute but rather dizzy).
Show was ok considering it was a bit of a case of too many cooks and nobody really being clear on who was to what when. Not too pleased when I was asked to do a slowish thing and did Peggy Lee’s ‘Fever’ over some downbeat electro track and MC Spot jumped on behind me giving it the ‘yeah yeah yeahs’. Just not what I conjure up when I imagine a slick fashion show; a bald man in cut off trousers and a fun boy t-shirt shouting like a fish monger.

Took ages to get to the bar after so ended up ordering double caipirinhas and mojitos and had sleazy old pissed geezers trying it on. Shudder. Hung out for a while before getting the bus back to the hotel and watch ‘Sexy Italy’.

Hilarious show which is like a wank line, live on tele. The girl hosting was far from sexy and prancing around on the sofa getting her pink bits out. I liked that she was rather feisty with the pervs on the phone but painful to watch her rub her dry minge repeatedly. Owwwch.

Woke up late to the receptionist telling me the taxi was there to take me to Venice. Was dropped off at Mestre and spent a while trying to sort out a hotel that I could afford. Eventually found a decentish one with a shower in Compo Germia for €75 for two nights.

Went for a walk and my, Venice is really like nowhere else. After the initial wow factor, it all started to look similar (oh more canals, bridges and narrow streets) but tried to get lost and found things that nearly made me cry they were so beautiful.

Shopping wise, same masks and coloured glass in every other shop and very expensive Italian labels. So no Primark then.

The Basilica of San Marco is one of the most stunning houses of god (allegedly) I’ve seen. The Vatican has all the bling and gold but this place just blew me away. Dabbed some holy water behind my ears like perfume. Disgruntled a few Catholics but I’m sure God would have approved.

Spent a good few hours in the Museum of Erotic Art (well I would wouldn’t I?) Some great stuff, some meh stuff. Most impressive was Jacques Brissot . Surprised I’d never heard of him before. Stunning montages and use of robots and dolls.

Had one of those moments of chilled relaxed when I had my feet in a canal, drinking a mint flavoured slush puppy with a cigarette, watching rich tourists go by in gondolas while a street string quartet played ‘the hits’. Bliss.


Decided I wanted to eat something Venetian so had pasta and bean soup (nice) polenta and some fish thing (not so) and then for an ice cream while watching a band that was a bit rubbish but has the best stage gimmick I’ve seen and might have to adapt for myself.

Had 1am curfew at hotel (I know!! When I protested at first, was told there was bugger all to do after 11 and that the city goes to sleep then. They weren’t wrong.) so went back to the hotel for a snooze.

Monday started off pretty cloudy but decided to get out of the city as felt I’d covered most of the city previously. Got the lengthy water bus to Venice Lido to sit on the beach, paddle in the Adriatic and look at fit Italian girls boobs. I love sunglasses! Heh!

Took another trek to the lovely island of Burano. Beautiful and quiet little place with colourful houses, block mammas chilling out making lace all connected by cute bridges.

Back on bus to Murano where they make the glass. Bit disappointing so didn’t stay long. Returned to see the best dressed beggar I’ve ever seen outside my hotel. Cheeky twat had his own very swish looking kneeling pad, fine leather shoes and his sports wear by GAP.

Went out for dinner again and had a night walk around the Rialto bridge and St Marcos Square with another ice cream and got followed a bit by an Italian dude, until I spun around and stared at him square in the face.
Got the last bus back to the north of Venice (at 23.25) and found a bar near my hotel (€4.50 for a large beer) and got chatting to a nice couple from England of their honeymoon and a young girl from America. Unfortunately the bloody hotel curfew meant I had to leave when we were talking about drugs, insecure women and police raids.

Really enjoyed my little jaunt around Venice. Spent too much money but was worth it. Had fun on my own but not the kind of place I’d return to alone, would be better with a partner I guess.

Last weekend was down to Cornwall with the kids. Harry opened up her house to a bunch of randoms (her words) and friends. On the train down with Dan, Nikki and Amy, I was thrown off the train at Exeter for trying to get away with a dodgy ticket. Shit my pants good and proper but was luckily just told to buy another ticket from Exeter to Bodmin Parkway. Crime don’t pay kids.

Got down and had dinner at a restaurant where Harry works (uninspired Italian stuff) and saw the best name for a 70s band ever ; Disco - in - Kernow. With that sense of creativity, they must rock!
Went to the local pub which scared me a bit. Much like any pub in any small village or town anywhere really. Everyone knows each other, the boys are all psyching each other out in that alpha male way and the girls are judging each other. As I don't realy hang out with girls, I forget how judgemental and bitchy girls really are of each other. I blame Victoria Beckham.

Next day we went to Newquay where they were having a big surf competition (not that there were many waves to surf on). Had a nice walk along the beach and laughed at the Nuts magazine birds in bikinis type competition (all generic, no oomph).

Back for a BBQ where I felt extremely old. Around 25 people in all and all 21 or under. Found it difficult to get on any level with a bunch of screeching 19 year old girls until I drank loads of booze and changed the lyrics of every song being played to involve the term ‘Man Juice’. Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ will never be the same again.

Few of the girls became rather pukey after they’d hit their screeching peek. Amy had managed to spew and fall asleep in it. Only noticed when she was waving her arm around and it was covered in sick.

Bit of a broo ha ha over where everyone was sleeping as the bed that Dan and I were sharing was taken over by drunk teenage girls but ended up on the sofa watching Dan sleep as he was having problems breathing and hadn’t brought his inhaler. That’s as far as being maternal gets with me.

Sunday woke to a big mess and went to the beach Treyamon while others hung around Wadebridge. (I don’t see the point of travelling down to one of the prettiest parts of the UK and walking around a small town on a Sunday personally). Much better than Newquay (over rated tourist chav trap) and huge waves. Thought I was going to drown at one point as they were so strong. Had a little walk over to Constantine beach next door. So pretty. I love England.

Came back with a bit of a sunburn and sand everywhere but a very nice weekend away.

Can’t afford to go anywhere else at the moment, as much as I’d like. Hoping to go away for my 30th at the end of the year (28th December) but not sure whether to have a party of go away. Would rather be out of the country and get shit faced somewhere for it, but only if I can get some chilled, stress free people to go with.


Wednesday, I popped into Trannyshack (or Trannyshock or Fannyshack as I've taken to call it) to do a little ditty (cover of Smash Up Derby’s ‘Sweet Nation Dreams‘).
Ended up kicking a very pissed straight Sloane wannabee who was pissing everyone off on stage. Told her 'that'll teach you to fuck with Trannys dear'. That got a big cheer.

Only four performed (rather than last time I performed where the show just went on and on…) Suppositori Spelling rocked out (not with her cock out, that was for backstage) Ritzy Crackers did ‘Wig in a box’ from Hedwig (learn the lyrics gurrrl!!) and Jennie Dee (I think) who was basically a man in a bikini doing Cliff’s Summer Holiday. As I said to Dusty, “Now that’s avant guard”. Only thing it could be really. Bless.

Some very young queens loitering backstage going on about 'throwing shade' and being 'read'. Think they've been gnawing at the drag cliche book. Came in and said hello to everyone but blanked me. Oh forgive me for not having a knob!

Had a boogie down with Mika Doll (who has declared me her Holey mother), watched the lovely Lusty Lloyd (I've taken to calling her Lusty instead of Lady) struggle with some nuts and pliéd with Stefán to Whitney Huston with make up smeared all over my face.

Some fucked up bloke said I was soooo professional and that he wanted to book me for an event he was doing. Yeah, I believe that when it happens.
Forgive my pessimism but if had a mere penny for every time I was told people were going to book me for this and that, send me to Japan, North and South America and all over Europe, record with international producers etc.. well I could buy myself a pretty decent holiday.

Ciao for now bitches

xXx

P.S. As some fecking fecker stole my camera in Cargo last month, the pics on here were taken with my new Nokia 6280 phone. No bad eh?

P.P.S. August 25th. Put it in yer diary. Pirate-All hands on deck with a DJ set from Altern8, Pirate Soundsystem, Poj Masta, Warboy, Baby Clyde and Me on hosting duties. OH FUCK YES!
For now, heres a pirate thing I found in a little church

Fuck them and thier law



Ooohweee.

I’m loving the London but damn its hot! Hasn’t been this in hot in the UK since the time my Mother was pregnant with me during the summer of 1976. Might explain my 0-100 temper that sneaks out sometimes and that I sweat ridiculous amounts in all weathers. Maybe.


So after a hilarious session with a guy who I had to interrogate and torture (he said after that I was very convincing and scary. I aim to please) popped to Cargo with Richie of Diskoboxx for The Remix night. Space Cowboy did a live set (bit disappointing to be honest) and some fucker stole my digital camera. Took one photo of the band (well more of the visuals above them) and one of Rich and Rob Idiotech. Went to get it out of my bag and gone. I hope the fuckers get scratched to death by squirrels. Or chickens.

Remained quite calm for a while before becoming angry. Rich suggested we go to the rave that was going on nearby to cheer me up.

Cornered the street to see Dan and Jools who told us it had been raided by the police after just one hour. Grrrr. Bloody criminal justice act blah blah. Bit silly to have an illegal in the middle of Shoreditch really and the fact that tickets were available through ticketweb is like an open invitation to the authorities. But still.....baaaah.

Yeah its not going to be like it was ‘back in the day’ and I hate the term ‘neu rave’ (much like I dislike the term ‘mash-up) but I’m pretty chuffed there is a rave revival going on at the moment. So what if the Barleys have gotten in on the act and the much vilified by gybo band The Klaxtons have done a cover of ’The Bouncer’ (which personally I don’t have a major problem with. Was thinking of covering Human Resources ’Dominator’ (how apt) myself ).

I’m old enough to have gone to a few raves while still at school and old rave and happy hardcore (Not the ‘Bonkers’ toy town rave) is something I still listen to quite a lot.

I’m stick to the tonsils of yet another dreary boy band with guitars (can’t bear to listen to XFM much as its always The bloody Feeling, Razorlight or Kooks etc. Yawn) and house music has become so commercial and repetitively dull to the point of nausea. There must be new things to discover out there in music but I guess well shall have to keep referring to the past until it is discovered.

After running around pretty hyper from having the camera stolen and the rave being called off within 30 minutes within each other meant I needed to get high/have sex or dance my ass off.

Walked to where the police were shutting everything down and saw Jody and his brother Bayo (Baby Clyde) sitting on the floor doing a peaceful protest. Joined them for a rousing chorus of The Golden Girls theme tune, The Reynolds Girls’ ‘I’d rather Jack’ and a bit of ‘I Will Survive’. Made the coppers laugh anyway.

After a big to-do about what to do and a sneaky spliff (and watching more fighting and police carnage on Shoreditch High Street) had a beer in El Paso and went and sat in Hoxton Square. (Seems pointless to lock the gates when the place is packed with people who have just climbed over anyway.)

Were approached by some chav types if we watched any party prescriptions. Very dubious but at the price they were being offered, seemed rude to say no. So sat around the park till around 5 until retiring back to my place with Don and Rich till around 9 in the morning.

Sunday I had planned to have a BBQ at my gaf which went tits up so Dan and I had a nice meal down Broadway Market (Mediterranean place. Good food, good price, crap service) and an ice cream in the park.

Tuesday I met my good buddy Chris in Soho Square for a few drinkies before going to Too2 Much (Way Too Much more like. £14 for two vodka and cokes!) to see a reformed Culture Club with Chris (backing singer in Paleday, going under the name ‘Sam’) taking the place of Boy George.

Big shoes to fill but pulled it off very well and put on a good show plus he’s already got that gender bending thing down already. Love it. Only (*cough*) celebrity there was Henry Kelly (best known for Going for Gold-what a great show that was) who said to Chris “You were great, whatever you are”. Charming.

After we met Shane, Paul and Jason on the wall for more booze outside the church in Soho to abuse people walking past. Like overly pumped and tanned muscle fairies, a girl with bad weave having a hissy fit over dropping her phone, a beggar who called me a ‘ray-shall-ist’ for saying I wasn’t going to give him any money as his trainers were more expensive than mine (I’m also a Radishist too. Fucking Radishes.) and random queens flouncing around in the Soho heat.

Went back to Chris’ house for more vodka and lots of rounds of the card game Shithead. Silly fun.

Came back to the house with a drunk flatmate, three very pissed Brazilian blokes and a toilet floor covered with piss. Classy.

Got a call from a production company who are filming a Masterbationathon in the UK and if I fancied being a part of it. Said I’d be up for being interviewed as I fully endorse that kind of thing but not so in being filmed having a fiddle on camera.

I’m no prude but I’ve always been very careful about having any pictures of me in uncompromising situations. Its something I’ve also thought would haunt me later in life whatever I end up doing.

OK I’ve appeared in a BDSM film where I beat up a young Hungarian chap and fucked him in the bum (which I’ve still yet to see) and done stills for a book about Viennese Dominatrix (Traum Frauen by Andres Urban which means Dream Woman. Indeed.) but nobody saw any pink bits, top or bottom. Not that anyone would be interested in seeing me in the altogether anyway (shudder).

Off to Italy this weekend for a fashion show in a castle. Did a similar show in Austria and I felt for the poor makeup artists who had spent ages doing beautiful eye makeup, only for them to be covered with sunglasses.

This is also a sunglasses show with me running around being noisy on the M I C.

The company has jiggled the flights around so I’ll be staying on for two extra days in Venice to have a little adventure. Eat ice cream and stare at Latin girls swanning around. Yum.

Following week I’m off to Cornwall for a few days with the kids, Harry, Dan and Nikki. I imagine I’ll come back with a big hangover with them pesky brats.

Should be back online soon too. Friggin hope so. The blokes who run this net café are proper pervy fucks.

Cheers queers

xXx

George Michael - An Easier Affair

Ooh hark at me! All attitiude and hair. Yep, here's me in the George Michael video 'An Easier Affair' pulling some silly faces. CLICKY THIS LINKY for the video.

MINTY - Its a game Pt 2 (Download)


MINTY 2006 (L-R Richard Torry, me being haughty and Mathew Glamorr)

For MINTY info go here
For direct download of tracks go here

Gay Christmas, Minty and adios Starsky


Cor blimey guv, London is a hot bed of activity at the moment pour moi.

The gig at the crappy place I don’t really care about got cancelled (incompetent maybe, time wasting definitely) and though the cash would have been nice, I don’t like being fannyed around so fuck it.

Popped along to my old college’s graduate show behind the OXO Tower. Seemed a little too ambitious and expensive a location to pull passing trade and industry folk in. Plus while there were a few good bodies of work, it still had the repetition of landscapes and biography. I think they learned not to take on art types like me since my three years of BDSM, bum holes, sexuality, gender and nonsense. Hawhawhaw. I revel in being the black sheep .

Also had a good natter with one of my mentors, John Donaldson. We met the previous night and pondered what Sarah Barnes is up to now (worth pointing out that both John and Sarah were contextual studies lecturers. I honesty don’t think I’d be doing the stuff I’m doing now if it weren’t for them opening my mind. But it means I can never switch my bloody brain off to analysing advertising, modern media and art).

Interestingly, Sarah and I had a huge argument in my second year at Blackpool where it felt like it would end in a slapping match. We cleared things up and she became a mentor and mate. Cheers to you Ms Barnes wherever you may be.

That weekend was Euro Pride which I like to call Gay Christmas. First met up at Colins flat and then joined a party at Positive Futures (UK coalition for people living with HIV and AIDS) (www.e-pif.org.uk) where I was asked to remove my fake tits with the word ‘Queer’ written over them in marker as it might offend someone. PC gone mad. I dutifully removed the offending items and was then told to watch out for their float on the parade as it would feature men in tiny thongs and harnesses. Bit of a contradiction there me thinks.

We sipped Pims in the sun, waved at the gay service men and women and cackled at truly hideous drag .

On to Soho Square for a boogie. Got rather bored quickly as the DJ couldn’t mix for shit and was playing quite dull music so we trundled off to Old Compton Street where things became rather messy where one of our party kept shovelling K up his nose (which ran straight back out) and consequently fall off the tables he was dancing on, another nearly started a fight with a bunch of tarts selling pink cowboy hats (oh the capitalisation of the pink pound!) and then flashed her tits at the pastel wearing straight folk over at Mary Poppins and I got my fake knockers continually squeezed by men, women and children.

Ended up staying there for the rest of the day (where I kept running in and out of the bar to check on the football.) and was the funniest and fun Prides ever.

Stick yer commercial park Pride events up yer hoop. Having it around Soho is far more fun. The DJ played Stevie V - Dirty Cash followed up with Technotronic - Pump up the jam and the whole street went chicken oriental. Unfortunately some girl came on and it all went a bit down tempo and parp.
Know. Your. Audience. If they are rocking out and screaming out for classics, probably best to give them what they want.


I don’t think I’ve been that battered in ages. I ended up laughing at a postcard of Princess Diana on Greek Street as she had a green head. Well she did through my eyes.

Had to return to Colins for a bit to chill out as I was expected across town for Daves final night out on the tiles. Calmed down a bit but was still pretty wired when I met everyone at La Perla (for cocktails not lingerie) in Covent Garden. Dave had some tart hanging off him who he’d met online who seemed to know quite a bit about me despite Dave not mentioning Holestar to her. Bloody myspace. We dubbed her ‘Paris’. Parasite probably more appropriate.
Doing my head in a large fashion but soon fucked off when she wasn’t getting enough attention. Shame that.

All went to Button Down Disco which was sweaty fun. Still pretty pickled, danced to some pretty ace trash pop and oddly became quite randy and wanted to do rude things to someone who I adore as a friend (sorry for freaking you out mate ;-) PHOTOS HERE

Sunday, met Dave, Dan and Amy (who is 19 going on 50. One of these people who seems to look at life through pessimistic and dark sunglasses. Nice enough girl but doesn’t seem to enjoy being young) in Barley Land (or Hoxton Square to give it its actual name). Few beers, went for Vietnamese and a few more beers with Rich and Tom.

Didn’t cry saying goodbye to Dave but was pretty miserable during the week. Half come down, half loosing one of my best buddies. I know he’ll be popping back but it really isn’t the same. My kidneys will probably thank him for his departure though.

Monday was a gig at The Spitz. After John’s band pulled out and another band did, I ended up being the headliner to a bunch of acoustic stuff..

I have the utmost respect for anyone who gets up on stage and does their thing live but I really can’t stand to hear middle England, middle class boys or girls singing about the hardships of being on Route 66 or yet another love lost. Each to their own but to my ears, its generic parp.

Was nice to have a few chums from Blackpool turn up and that they were surprised by my performance. See, I do kick arse when I want to.


Thursday unfortunately was the final Bastard at The Asylum as it has had too many problems and has had to close. It’s the small, intimate, grimy, sweaty little place that makes Bastard what it is. The ones at 93 Feet East are OK but it really isn’t the same where the ‘randoms’ outnumber the gybo collective.

I ended up putting up Jimmi Jammes who came all the way over from Chile to play for the night after going to the naughty bar on Hanway Street. When Mark told him to play one more track, a few of us went up and told him to play the best track he had (preferably a big ol’ boot like Freelance Hell raisers ’A Stroke of Genius’). Unfortunately he put on the worst record he had played all night after a great set.

Mike Cartel ended up putting on the final tune which was Josh Consoles ‘Bastard 97 made me do it’.
Mark the owner killed it half way through saying ‘I said one more, that’s about 5 different songs’. We all screamed that that was the whole point. Hadn’t he been listening to any of the music being played over the last four years?

A shame Bastard is over at The Asylum but what a way to go out. RIP.

Bastard 101 was at 93 Feet East. Tom played a stormer (this guy is going to be big if he gets the right breaks) and my baby Josh Console (who is the future of music. I keep banging on about it but he has the talent, sense of humour and enthusiasm for new things that will make him a star. Just hope he doesn’t become an arse hole or get fucked over by the industry) finished off the night in style (turning it all the way up to 11 at one point which was a bit noisy).

Sly beer at Troy (which seems to be the regular post 93 Feet East bar) but didn’t stop around long as they were playing free jazz which is rather irritating. It seems to be a battle for who can play their instruments the loudest and the obligatory solo. When I was younger, I often fancied playing the saxophone, now it goes right through me. Urgh.

Saturday was the first performance of the first MINTY track in ten years; It’s A Game-Part 2 at Kashpoint (bit of a stress with outfit and getting the track in time to learn it). The venue, Area in Vauxhall (I didn’t really like it to be honest. Ceiling too high, stage obstructed by the stairs which it is part of, and never managed to get the atmosphere going despite the friendly vibe and some ace music).


Show itself was OK. The sound engineer was a bit rubbish by putting the wrong track on (those who know me well know my frustration with crap sound engineers. I’m sure good ones exist. Somewhere.) and the crowd were a bit flat. VIDEO


Don and Josh of Pirate Soundsystem and Dan came along to boogie (Josh and Don looking fetching in their frocks-I love straight boys in dresses) and had a pretty good night I believe.
Best part of the night was running into the small room where Golf Sale were playing my funeral song ‘Bizarre Inc - Playing with Knives’ (I want them crying and raving in the aisles) followed by ace pop parp.
Mariah Carreys ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ had Josh and Dan on the stage having it large and were joined onstage with a guy who made my video piece ‘All I want for Kashpoint is You’ the Beadle-esque piece it is. CLICKY THIS

I had a snog with a girl who was quite hilarious but a fucking pussy tease. After all her bullshit about having a shag in the loo, soon as we got there she gave it all ‘oh no don’t do that’. Minge teasing bastard. Can’t stand girls who do that to men, even worse when they do it to me. Cnuts.
Was apologetic after but told her I don’t like playing games. She said she was a bitch, I told her I was a bigger bitch and I don’t like bullshit so bye bye.


Basically the Minty track features samples from this years Big Brother (particularly Nikki screeching and Pete beat boxing) and me wailing over the top of. And is available to download HERE

Was quite surprised when Mathew Glamorre called to ask if I wanted to be on the new Minty track to be honest. Didn’t take long to say yes.
Leigh Bowery is a huge inspiration to me and many other queer gender benders and his innovative art and fashion is still very much evident in the klub kids of Kashpoint. Who is there now? There are quite a few people who could be regarded stalwarts of the alternative scene but there is nobody to me who really stands out above it all. There are people I admire but nobody I really look up to.

If I had to list key inspirations it would be John Waters, Divine, Leigh Bowery, Cindy Sherman, Annie Sprinkle, Bruce Nauman, Jeff Koons, Madonna, The Prodigy and The KLF.

But then again, I don’t aspire to be like anyone, just quite happily carving out a niche for myself in the space in-between where I seem to be. Rejected by the super commercial, rejected by the desperately avant guarde - not in any “cool” gang, . Between genders, sexuality, music and art with a sense of humour. I may flit between the two but I’m quite chuffed about how things are going at the moment (though being paid would be a bonus.)

I’ve already had a few people bitching about my involvement with Minty and franky, don’t give a crap. Yes I’m a solo artist but it is merely a collaboration and that is something I will continue to do. Some people have too much time on their hands to bitch about trivial matters that have nothing to do with them. I’m not interested in petty bitching fights. Each to their own I say.


Sunday had a meeting with Don and Josh about Pirate. There will be an ace party or two coming your way soon should you be up for a proper knees and dressing up. Yaaar, believe the hype.

The following week I did a ditty for Dusty Os 40th Birthday bash at Trannyshack. Were quite a lot of people on the bill. Some couldn’t do with playing just one track and did 2,3 or 4. The show lasted 2 hours in all and was obvious that the crowd were getting quite tired. Had a Tranny chaser follow me around after. Probably though I was a bloke. Oh dear. Photos here

Since then did a Minty photo shoot with the lovely Paul Morgan for the PR stuff, seen a few clients (Military scenes seem to be very popular at the moment-luckily I’m very good at the role play) and spending a small fortune at internet cafes as the mad bitch downstairs finally decided that I couldn’t use her internet (despite her saying yes no problem many a time, my offering her money for it and getting a router). Said it was an omen and not meant to be. Eh? Wish the lunatic had told me when I first moved in. She now doesn’t speak to me or Angela in the house. Refuses to do any of the cleaning, buy bog roll and keeps using my toiletries. Twat.

Off to MC at a fashion show in Italy next week (with someone I used to shows with in Austria. Nice people but not very organised.) Fly into Venice and would have been nice to have stayed a few days but they’ve booked me to fly right out-bah.

Here is a direct link to me in that George Michael video, all hair and attitude.

In the meantime, download the Minty tune (Pirate Soundsystem mix coming very soon and it will bit the shit I know it) and have an ice cream.