I’ve been told off by someone (not sure who) about being too boring, writing about baths and dogs so whoever you are, you might want to skirt over this next bit.
I seem to have picked up a new stalker. I have a very tidy collection now. This one is a lot less menacing though. He’s about seventeen, although looks about twelve. Little Michael works in the local bar and seems to remember me from last time I was here (I have no recollection of him at all) .He is very sweet and completely harmless but I could do without him riding his pushbike (and ringing his little camp bell) up and down the street, outside my window. Cina heard him last night about midnight. The minute we leave the hotel he pops up, out of no where on his little bike. He can do a back flip though which was very impressive (Not whilst he’s on the bike). He really is pulling out all the stops. . Bless his little cottons. I can see me losing my rag with him soon though. I am not really known for my patience.
Cina and I went for dinner last night in an Italian restaurant. We were served by a young Indian man, wearing more make up than Jordan. If there was a camp off competition between him, Julian Clarey, Duncan Norvel and Rylan (as he is at the forefront of my mind, thanks to fatty) this bloke would win hands down. He showed me his painted nails (in case you were wondering he hadn’t painted his left hand (the shit hand)) and his newly plucked eyebrows. I’ve not seen a transvestite in all my time in India so I was chomping at the bit to talk to him.
I asked him if he had a boyfriend and of course he was dying to tell us all about it. He sat with us and said in a really quiet voice that we had to be discrete as no one knew he was gay. Are you shitting me? You could have the shittest gaydar in the world and you’d still not mistake this man for heterosexual. He was gayer than a gay thing from Gaysville. Also being plastered in make up and nail varnish heavily indicates you might only be into girls for their make up tips (he really needed some) as opposed to their bodies
He then said that life was really hard for him as it was a constant battle trying to fend off men. I quote “when you are this beautiful (when he said this he took his hand (the painted one) from the top of his head and then with an extremely limp wrist floated the hand down his body to point at his “beautiful” toes), then everyone is going to want you. I would say that 90% of the men around here are Bi-sexual and they all want me”. If I was to be kind I would say that this man was not a looker, if I wasn’t being so kind I would go so far as to say that he looked like the back of a bus. It must be nice to be so blissfully unaware.
So if there any gay transvestites out there then Cochin is the place for you. You'll be beating 'em off with a shitty stick, Fatty get your ticket sorted! You’re gonna love it.
After all the excitement yesterday about the bath, there is no frigging plug. How’s your luck? I did try to block it with a carrier bag and a bottle of Dove deodorant, but alas it didn’t work. All the dreams I had of soaking in a hot bath have been well and truly laid to rest. I have just about got over the disappointment. 3 weeks and I'm staying in the bath until I look like one of those crinkly dogs (save the jokes).
I seem to have picked up a new stalker. I have a very tidy collection now. This one is a lot less menacing though. He’s about seventeen, although looks about twelve. Little Michael works in the local bar and seems to remember me from last time I was here (I have no recollection of him at all) .He is very sweet and completely harmless but I could do without him riding his pushbike (and ringing his little camp bell) up and down the street, outside my window. Cina heard him last night about midnight. The minute we leave the hotel he pops up, out of no where on his little bike. He can do a back flip though which was very impressive (Not whilst he’s on the bike). He really is pulling out all the stops. . Bless his little cottons. I can see me losing my rag with him soon though. I am not really known for my patience.
Cina and I went for dinner last night in an Italian restaurant. We were served by a young Indian man, wearing more make up than Jordan. If there was a camp off competition between him, Julian Clarey, Duncan Norvel and Rylan (as he is at the forefront of my mind, thanks to fatty) this bloke would win hands down. He showed me his painted nails (in case you were wondering he hadn’t painted his left hand (the shit hand)) and his newly plucked eyebrows. I’ve not seen a transvestite in all my time in India so I was chomping at the bit to talk to him.
I asked him if he had a boyfriend and of course he was dying to tell us all about it. He sat with us and said in a really quiet voice that we had to be discrete as no one knew he was gay. Are you shitting me? You could have the shittest gaydar in the world and you’d still not mistake this man for heterosexual. He was gayer than a gay thing from Gaysville. Also being plastered in make up and nail varnish heavily indicates you might only be into girls for their make up tips (he really needed some) as opposed to their bodies
He then said that life was really hard for him as it was a constant battle trying to fend off men. I quote “when you are this beautiful (when he said this he took his hand (the painted one) from the top of his head and then with an extremely limp wrist floated the hand down his body to point at his “beautiful” toes), then everyone is going to want you. I would say that 90% of the men around here are Bi-sexual and they all want me”. If I was to be kind I would say that this man was not a looker, if I wasn’t being so kind I would go so far as to say that he looked like the back of a bus. It must be nice to be so blissfully unaware.
So if there any gay transvestites out there then Cochin is the place for you. You'll be beating 'em off with a shitty stick, Fatty get your ticket sorted! You’re gonna love it.
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