Friday, May 23, 2003
Don't Fence Me In
Tonight sees the return of Big Brother for a fourth series. As usual, I'll be finding something else to do. Peering and listening in on the lives of a bunch of self-seeking grotesques is not my idea of a particularly dignified pastime. But, hey, don't worry, I've no reservations about catching up on the minutiae of your personal lives.
But then I believe in monogamy, and love, and puppy dogs forever, just not in Amsterdam, or Berlin, or the local slut hut on Saturday night, OK?
And I can discuss the progression of dance music and club culture from 70s Disco through to Hard House and Trance, by way of Northern Soul and Garage, but still know the lyrics to every single thing Stephen Sondheim has ever written
And I love kids' lit, think Narnia is cool, but despise the entire insipid, derivative, hog-washed oeuvre churned out by That Woman, for whom I refuse to provide a link.
And I support a whole load of charities, have walked for life, but have never once bought a copy of The Big Issue.
And I can usually get a table for two for tomorrow at the Ivy without having to go down on the maître d', but much prefer a Sloppy Giuseppe, or a fry-up at the greasy spoon on the corner.
And I speak fluent German and pretty decent French, but come over all tongue-tied in English.
And I'm anti-war but wear a MA1 flying jacket and combats, and, though a regular on Old Compton Street, I occasionally allow my hair to creep over my shirt collar, and I have never seen Queer As Folk.
Contradictory little bugger, aren't I?