Friday, January 30, 2004

Obviously a parody of yoof-speak, but funny all the same.

Thursday, January 29, 2004

What is the gayest horror film sequel ever made?






A Nightmare on Elm Street 2Jeepers Creepers 2
Name of charactersA male hero called Jesse. 8Female hero called Minxie. 4
Prime Beef?
Oh well. 5

Well hello. 9
Sexualisation of male bodiesLisa: "Sometimes when I'm lying here in bed, I see Glen in his window across the way getting ready for bed. His body is slim and smooth, and I know I shouldn't watch him, but that part of me that wants him forces me to. That's when I weaken, that's when I want to go to him." Also, Jesse dances in a pair of shorty shorts and little else on his bed. 8Loads of bare-chested jocks on a bus. the "deleted scenes" on the DVD has the camera lovingly carress a row of sweaty pectoral muscles all lined up. As well as that, the boys all stand rather close to one another when they piss in a field. There's a lotta penis envy going on. 10
Sexually "interesting" older characters?

Coach Schneider who 'frequents' gay S/M bars and has his bare ass whipped by towels. 9
Betty Borman the butch bus-driver, regular on "Popular" (also comes to a sticky end) 5
Homosexual panic?Is Freddy trying to get into Jesse's body? Are Jesse's dreams really a Freudian manifestation of his unresolved feelings for best buddy Robert? 7The boys taunt each other with phrases like "jock sniffer", one boy called Izzy is accused of having once gone to a *gasp* Gay Bar resulting in hilarious "Izzy or isn't he?" jokes. The monster seems to only go after young men - the girls all survive. 9
Feminist undertones?Jesse's girlfriend helps to save the day, by using her love and frizzy red hair to stop Freddy. 5The boys are all complete wimps and pussies. The only character who does the monster any damage is one of the girls who wields a mean javelin. 6
Total4243


Jeepers Creepers 2 wins by a couple of inches. Hurrah for gay horror moveis.

Sunday, January 25, 2004



I watched The Stone Tape last night - a rarely seen made-for-tv BBC ghost drama that was made in 1972 and now available on region 0 DVD. It reminded me of The Blair Witch Project - a group of researchers take over a spooky old house and discover that one room appears to be haunted by the ghost of a screaming maid. Led by gung-ho Brock, one of those bossy little men, they try to use computers and recording machines to get proof of the supernatural phenomenon, hypothesising that the stone in the walls is a new form of recording - able to save incidents for posterity which are then triggered by human presence somehow. It'll make them rich if only they can figure out how to get the "stone tape" to play and rewind at their will.



Talks with the locals uncover some strange things about the room - at least two failed exorcisms have been carried out there - the maid apparently fell down a staircase in the 1800s and died in the room. The builders have refused to work on the room. Output from computer readings taken inside the room contains random words like "pray" and "soul".



The only prominent female role in the play is Jill, played by the marvellous Jane Asher - 70s sensation, best known for her relationship with Paul McCartney and her subsequent career baking cakes on tv. She's the most sympathetic cast member, struggling against expectations that she's a dolly-bird on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

The script is certainly a reminder of that period before political correctness where casual racism and sexism were the order of the day. The men of the company are macho, infantile and over-confident. Brock treats Jill like a baby, alternatively patronising her and bossing her around. The fact that he's cheating on his wife with her, and will ultimately dump her for his secretary lets us know what sort of man he is.

It's all a bit hokey, but despite this, still manages to be effectively scary. There's the sense that something horrible is going to happen all the way through, and it's only partly due to the arrogance of those involved. They don't make them like this anymore.

Thursday, January 22, 2004



Love me


Tv seems to be awash with programmes about people having plastic surgery at the moment. Julian McMahon plays a plastic surgeon in Nip/Tuck. He himself suggests someone who has had a number of procedures designed to make him more beautiful (I remember him 15 years ago on the Australian soap Home & Away - and he's hardly changed, apart from the slightest hint of a hairline that may be wanting plugs, a pair of perfectly plucked eyebrows, a tan that borders on orange and a kind of wolfish cruelty in his expression - which must be the acting, I'm sure he's lovely in real life.

Rupert Smith, who reviews tv for the Guardian said that Julian McMahon is one of the most beautiful men on television today. I'm inclined to agree - hurrah for men in their 40s who put men in their early 30s (me) to shame.

Let's face it though - plastic surgery programmes, whether documentary or fiction are a winner. On the one hand, people who are interested in physical appearance will watch, but on the other, people who like gore will also be fascinated.

Last night Channel 5 had an awful one where we saw penis enlargement in very specific, gory detail. There was also a guy who got breasts to win a bet. But the worst, and silliest was a man who had his dog fitted with fake testicles. Such people should really have all of their rights to make decisions removed instantly.

Sunday, January 18, 2004



Celebrity Fit Club (ITV Wednesdays) is back for a new series. Eight over-weight celebrities are put through a rigorous regime of exercise and dieting by nasty marine Harvey Walden. Amy Lamé is one of the celebs - as well as being one of my friends, I'm ever so glad she's on the programme because she stands out as a wonderfully subversive counter-example to all of the nonsense that occurs on the programme. For example, it is set in an Abbey - and there is a rather camply religious feel to it - the idea that weight loss is actually a new religion, and as our high priests we have fitness instructors and lifestyle gurus - hypnotherapy can therefore help us to find out the "problem" that is making people eat too much. (The fact that advertisers and producers of fatty foods like McDonalds, Burger King etc don't make it easy for people is something not to be mentioned - these days everything is down to our personal "issues" which need to be routinely "confessed" before we can gain "closure".)

When the celebs were weighed (a supposedly dramatic moment with lots of build up, music and lighting designed to intensify emotion), Amy simply said she wasn't interested in how much she weighs - she's just interested in getting fit. This is in stark contrast to the other female celebrities who said things like "I want to look like a babe again". Amy has an individual sense of style and glamour - and already looks great. If she lost a lot of weight, maybe she would look like a "babe" - but something would be lost - she'd have kow-towed to the immense amount of pressure that society exerts on people now to conform to a very narrow and difficult-to-achieve set of standards to do with acceptable "beauty". She'd have lost all sense of individuality.

Speaking of the loss of individuality, I was also glad to see Amy tackle the fitness instructor Harvey Walden on a number of occasions. Harvey is a marine, and as Amy pointed out, marines have their personalities broken down and removed, which is why Harvey doesn't have one. "All the losers in my high school joined the marines" she told him. Then when Harvey started screaming at her, she just reminded him how rude it was to point. If Harvey was really interested in helping his 8 celebrities to lose weight he'd realise that everybody responds to different techniques and he'd learn how to use those difficult to pronounce words "please" and "thank you" - it's amazing what they can achieve.

Wednesday, January 14, 2004

All spammed out



There is a special 10th cirle of Hell reserved for spammers (along with all of the people who make me mad - people who don't park in parking spaces correctly, people who litter, people who say 'enjoy your trip' when someone falls over, anyone involved with Yahoo or WKD advertising campaigns - I could go on but there's not enough space on the internet).

My spam-catcher programme sends most of my spam to my Deleted folder where it automatically vanishes forever after a few days. Some of it gets through though - this is because subject titles are "cleverly" crafted so that the spam filter doesn't recognise them (putting a full stop or caret in a word seems to work occasionally)

Matthew Minor Get The Respect You D.eserve urgency Tue 13/01/2004 04:05
Mariano L. Cruz Instant Pha]rmacy D^rugs to your Door! Tue 13/01/2004 22:08

As does just putting together a seemingly random string of long words:

Luciano Atkins groundskeep forty lifeguard fission Tue 13/01/2004 17:00
Louis Deal hazardous disneyland hermite honduras Mon 12/01/2004 17:17
Clifford Hudson buggy cocky dormitory Mon 12/01/2004 02:39

Buggy cocky dormitory? Who thinks of these things? And while we're on, the names of spammers are starting to get increasingly lyrical and Dickensian - Luciano Atkins? I've also had spams recently from Linette Aguilar, Chase Dobson, Mark Jenkingz, Chelsea Baird, Shutter H. Algonquian and my personal favourite Hokey Q. Nabbing. If anything sums up the ideology of the spammer then it's Hokey Q. Nabbing.

At least some of the spammers seem to have a sense of humour. Although, I get the idea they're a bit like Karen from Will & Grace - amusing from a distance, but you wouldn't want them anywhere in your life. And you certainly wouldn't ask them to water your plants while you're on holiday.

Monday, January 12, 2004

A weekend trip to Glasgow to see my Canadian friend Suzanne in her flat - it has a lovely view of Marks and Spencer (that's about as glamorous as it gets for someone living where I live). We saw Lost in Translation (good, but probably doesn't deserve ALL the attention it's been getting lately) and took her two chiauauas for a walk in the park - tip - unusual dogs are a wonderful icebreaker and ensure that loads of girls will stare at you - if you're a single straight man who wants more sex (and let's face it, that's all of them) you may want to think about buying one.



Matt Roberts - personal trainer to the stars!

We played "spot the attractive person" (although it was very low single figures all weekend) and I bought a belt with a huge buckle. We also went into lots of crowded pubs and bars (some very scary and rough, and some very scary and posh). Suzanne has a personal trainer too - as she's from an urban area she is well ahead of me and has been seeing one twice a week since Easter. We theorised that "transactional relationships" such as those you have with your manicurist or your personal trainer are going to increasingly become important in people's lives - acting as a constant (when so many other relationships come and go) and a means of "narrative confessional" - which would have previously been carried out by a priest or family doctor. However, the difference now is that we pay for these sorts of relationships and we know that they'll continue to exist because there's money going into them. Isn't having a personal trainer really just like paying a really attractive, knowledgeable person to be your friend?

Friday, January 09, 2004

Death to the magazine!

It's nice to see Victoria Wood (one of the 15 patron saints of British gay men) back on prime time tv again. She managed to take a serious topic (the very zeitgeist moral panic of obesity and weight loss) and mix it up with her own brand of humour, with a few celeb interviews and snappy voiceovers.



After finding out from my personal trainer that I have 12% more body fat than the average man of my age (and everyone says I'm skinny), the issue of fat loss is at the forefront of my mind, so this programme was a sensible kick in the pants. One of the things Victoria takes umbrage with is HEAT magazine - which regularly publishes unflattering pictures of celebrities, with mocking captions. HEAT magazine is like that nasty girl you went to school with - the one who always has all the best gossip, the one who spreads rumours about other girls being a slag, and the one who dicates who's going to be sent to coventry that week - at a whim. Everyone's always nice to her because they're scared if they're not, they'll be next. Well maybe it's about time the British public got over their infatuation with HEAT and saw it for what it is - at best silly childish rubbish with as much relevance to the average person as a conversation between two 8 year old girls waiting in a queue for the slide, and at worst vicious propaganda designed to lower self esteem and perpetuate pointless spending and vanity.



The headline here reads - Oh my God. Cameron Diaz has got spots.

In fact, I've yet to find a "magazine" which has ever had anything else to offer me other than telling me to buy stuff, making me feel inadequate because my pores are too big, I don't have a six-pack, my hair isn't fashionable enough and I'm not living in some loft in a trendy part of London. Actually, the only magazines which do have anything to offer are those which are straightforwardly porn - at least they're not pretending to be anything else, we all know what the game is and the models are somehow a hundred times noble and more honest because they're simply selling sex rather than using sex to sell some useless bit of crap that I don't need. Oh dear, I'm coming over all burn your jockstrap again.

Thursday, January 08, 2004



A letter from Trash Addict

I've never done this before. But life is about taking risks is it not?

I know that people seem to pay attention to everything I do. Big or Small. Ridiculous or Sublime. So I am hoping they pay attention to this:

I am supporting Madonna for President.

PS: Please spread this message to everyone you know.

Wednesday, January 07, 2004

Go to work in any office up and down the country and you know that the secretaries will be eschewing reading each other's horoscopes "Oh, twins in peach bring news of a financial opportunity Brenda!" to playing the (by now) very old, sad and cliched, what's your porn star name game? Even my mother (who is 50 and an ex-Methodist) tried to explain it all to me on the phone. How does it go? You mother's maiden name and the name of your first pet, street name etc etc. I'm Ricky Cochrane incidentally, which is passable, just.

However, real porn star names are much more literal and silly. Here are my top 10s - they're all from http://www.gaypornagent.com/

My favourite silly gay porn star names:

1 Ace Harden
2 Bill Flagstaff
3 Candy Bar
4 Flex Gamble
5 Hank Hightower
6 Lance Gear
7 Randy Mixer


8 Sparky O'Toole


9 York Powers
10 Rush Stunner


And - they got it wrong....

The 10 most inappropriate (but actually exist gay porn star names)

1 Oliver Krist


2 Sebastian Bonnet
3 Sweet William
4 Blaine Bogart
5 Chuck Palms
6 Gavin Burke
7 Keith Dyson
8 Mason Walter
9 Sandy Sloane
10 Virgil Cannon


The 10 silliest and most arrogant single name only gay porn star names:

1 Phase
2 Puppy
3 Storm
4 Bam (aka Virgil Cannon- boy does he need a new agent)
5 Chance
6 D'Cota
7 Jan
8 Kaos
9 Domino
10 Malice

Coming soon - thinking of becoming a gay porn star - tips on how to choose your name and get it right!

Tuesday, January 06, 2004



Wendi Peters - my new favourite common woman. She looks quite nice there - but in Coronation Street she plays an absolute MONSTER! Trash has a new face. And this is her.
As I've said before, Enterprise is a pile of stinky poo. I decided to give the new series another chance last night, but switched off after 15 minutes - Archer's shouting and posturing did nothing for me. Nothing!

What have we got to look forward to in this new series? North Star - an episode with a colony of humans living in the 19th Century American West (Archer and co should get along with them all then just fine then!) An episode where Archer and T'Pol go back to 2004 (yawn) and more battles with the aliens from the future (zzzz).

As the writers seem to have lost the plot, ideologically speaking of course - here are some suggestions for new directions - maybe someone could forward them on.

* Remove the boring one-dimensional characters - this includes the black guy, the English guy, the lady linguist, Tripp, Archer, the doctor, the dog. Oh that's just about everyone. Oh well. Or at least give them personalities.

* Stop with the time-travel storylines already! - if the writers need to keep bringing high-tech aliens from the future in, then they're basically admitting that they made a mistake by setting Enterprise in the (relative) past. Lo-tech can be fun. Go with it!

* Have main characters who are a little less clear-cut good or evil. Characters like Garak and Quark in DS9 were much more fascinating to watch - they were unpredictable, fun and funny. Surely we've progressed beyond the idea of having a western in space - which is basically what Enterprise has become.



Garak - a certain camp sensibility.


* Have more sex. DS9 and Voyager had sexual relationships and this was good. Stop all of this pussy-footing and backrubs and just let all the characters have some good hot sex! It'll work. And while you're at it. How about some gay sex. For all of its inclusionary rhetoric - Star Trek is stunningly homophobic - it can cope with a black captain and a female captain, so why not a gay captain? It's clear that in Star Trek there are still some areas of the universe where no-one can boldly go. Why not make Archer come out of the closet. Or at least introduce a new gay character - and make him tough (not a counsellor or effete doctor).
It's amazing that the writers have worked so hard to appear inclusive - creating teams on starships that tick all (but one) of the identity boxes - race and gender are represented equally. Yet there are no gay men (and lesbians are just there for temporary male titilation - as in the Kira/Kira kiss and Dax/female symbiont kiss).



America can cope with gay people - it got Will & Grace. It can cope with Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. At the moment, Star Trek's message is that there are no gay people in the future. And to be quite honest - that's not a future I want to have anything to do with.
Well my personal trainer session was interesting. I was poked and manipulated in various ways and with various machines. I blew into things and ran on a treadmill while a belt measured my heart rate. I've never had anyone so interested in my body before.

But the results were not particularly good - I have poor flexibility, slightly high blood pressure, a higher than average level of fat, poor posture and a weak transverse muscle (and I didn't even know I had a transverse muscle, so no wonder it's weak). This is mainly due to my sedentary lifestyle - sitting at a desk all day, driving everywhere etc. The workout routine that I've been following for myself is pretty inadequate in that it's the sort of thing that a beginner would be given if they wanted to "tone" themselves. We didn't even begin to touch on my diet - as a vegetarian I'm not getting enough protein.

I hung my head in shame and bought three extra sessions with the personal trainer immediately.

We then went into the gym and I was shown how to do sit ups properly - so that they hurt. Then we did some things on a big bouncy ball that looked like it had wandered in from the set of the 1970s children's series Playaway. Finally, I lifted weights and he shouted at me "come on, one more!" I haven't felt this masculine in years. Ever probably.

I heart my personal trainer. Every gay man should have one. Or even two.

Monday, January 05, 2004



But it does nothing for me!

Shattered - the new Channel 4 game show is Britain's first tv programme where contestants have to stay awake to win money (if you discount the awful Touch The Truck presented by Her Royal Orangeness Dale Winton a couple of years ago). However, Shattered fancies itself to be a bit more upmarket and youth culture - run by Dermot O'Leary (a man who seems to be able to make everyone's knickers wet except mine sadly) and with that Channel 4 media "buzz" associated with Big Brother, the Big Breakfast, Big Wife Swap etc... The constestants are all horrible (several of them have bad teeth) and have attitude problems (e.g. they're loud, bossy and over-confident - Channel 4 are not making the mistake of Big Brother 4 ever again - expect Big Brother 5 to contain paedophiles, mad dictators and/or Julie Burchill).

As part of the introductory episode we got to see a video diary where lovely Dermot filmed his own efforts to stay awake - it transpires he wears glasses when not on tv and he should really be asking for more money as you'd expect a tv presenter to live in a nicer house than that - somewhere overlooking the Thames with lots of minimalist white furniture for example (or maybe it's just London house prices - who'd be a tv presenter these days?)

I had some spare money and was bored over the weekend so splashed out on some DVDs that I'd normally not bother with from a local (tiny) HMV. If you have not yet seen Bruce Almighty then I recommend you don't bother. I could feel my brain cells killing themselves off as the minutes turned to hours. It has every predictable, nauseous feel-good film cliche in it, and felt like something that should have been made in the 1980s with Tom Hanks or Bette Midler in it. It is only marginally better than What Women Want. So now you know.

I have booked for a personal trainer at my gym tomorrow morning. He is called Matthew. Do you think we'll fall in love? Or do you think he'll act in a professional and courteous manner and privately decide I'm a lost cause?