MISS BURNS...MISS BURNS.... IT'S A CALL FOR MISS BURNS

For some reason, Blogger is being a cunt to me and not allowing me to post any pictures on my blog - I don't know what the 411 is with this nonsense but it's not cricket. I'm writing here settled into a rather too relaxed weekend - it's been a few days of being anti social with my friends although through no fault of my own and of downloading ridiculous amounts of 80s music and watching with fascination the new series of Celebrity Big Brother.

Work has been mental mental chicken oriental since the New Year although I'm slowly but surely getting more to grips with the role, however by next week I'm sure a whole new set of challenges will have been sent to try me and screw me over - thank God I'm using Clinique skincare range or I would be looking like a reject from an Iraqui war court the amount of nonsense I've been dealing with - FYI - I cannot abide people crying on me unless I know them and should be comforting them in some sort of fashion.

So I finished work last night and bumped into John and Alan and their friend who twisted my arm to go for a drink at Zinc Bar. John is a guy I've known since I was 5 and was sent to Mrs Bett's class in Primary 1 to find my brother - he and John were in the same class and we kept in touch vaguely throughout high school as well. When I came out, I met John again and we've been in semi touch ever since. He was working and trawling in Seattle for a few years and is now home in Glasgow and it was the first I've seen him for a while so I thought I'd be my entertaining best and try to be the glamourous person I'm supposed to be. We all sat in Zinc (how Central Park West is that? Rachel Dennis and Linda Fairchild eat your heart out!) and had some drinks and chatted about life, love and dirty cocks. Then Alan's friend Lee turned up and John's old friend Martin. Now hold your breath everyone, Martin was 62 - a young 62 - he could pass for late 40s and good with it - and I didn't jump his bones!! My friends will be pleased to know if they read this that I don't screw pensioners at every opportunity, just every second opportunity that arises. So the convo was altogether peachy and was delightful and the company superb, even the token lesbian brought something to the party and I think the wine and vodka that was in abundant presence made it even more fun.

Then someone mentioned going to ancient and Glasgow's tradional gay bar The Waterloo. I've been a few times, the first man I ever slept with and kissed kicked about there, I also went hunting for drugs there a few times looking for shady types that would give a cheap price to a semi chicken. But on the whole, I've never really drank there. It didn't disappoint. It was very busy with a mix of wasted old queens who had been drinking all day on their winter fuel allowance from the government, a few office types, some tweed jumper wearing men with combovers, a couple of rent boys and some not too shabby older gym bunnies who were hanging on to their pecs appeal with all their might. Eclectic may be the best word to describe the clientele but it didn't bother me too much as I was fairly into my cups by then. Martin could charm the pants of a nun if he wanted and was both witty and not at all what I expected. John and I reminisced a fair bit about school and mutuall friends, Lee was quiet at first but could produce the occasional bon mot at the right moment and Alan laughed at all my really bad Lady Bunny jokes that I stole from her DVD "Lady Bunny, X Rated for Xtra Retarted" I headed up the road about 9ish with Stock Aitken and Waterman 80s tracks blaring from my iPod. I was in the mood to go out but David was working and skint, Jon was playing taxi with his parents, Stewart was out at a bar with a friend and going to his latest beau's home for a ride and Cam was working. The same nonsene happened tonight hence why I'm typing this at 23.40 on a Saturday night listening to Shirley Bassey and Diana Ross. I made a promise to be more sociable this year and not jack in a night earlier than required but I've had a weekend like that. I have however made a decision to carry on working one night a week in the Polo - it's been fun and not too tricky although I'm definitely not a fan of changing the barrels of beer, thankfully there's normally a lesbian with the combined strength of the Chinese army to sort that out.

I'm looking forward to Paris at the end of the month, I don't see my friend Deborah that often and David can go incognito a lot and Julia and I meet up every few weeks but they are my oldest friends and whenever we meet up or do anything it's as if we were together yesterday. Sometimes I wish I had the closeness with them again as they've been so influential and supportive to me but I realise we all have journeys to go on and I'm on my own whereas Julia and Deborah are on their's aswell. I see David most weekends and I know I can be rather vicious to him and my closest friends but it's only cos I can get away with it from them. They put up with my best and worst although when I'm nice to David he does always ask what's wrong with me. I don't know sometimes whether I'm tolerated or liked by my friends and I'm not looking for affection or confirmation (God knows I'm not the touchy-feely type by any stretch) I only hope I bring something to the party that my friends appreciate because depsite me wanting to kick the shit out of them at one time or another, they're my friends and I stand by them whatever happens. Now that was a bit deep so onto the final part of my post tonight.

Celebrity Big Brother started on Thursday with a gaggle of D-Listers grouped together under the constant scrutiny of cameras and the viewing public. Last year, Jackie Stallone stole the show with her wild appearance and crazy nonsense. This year, one of my favourite singers from yesteryear and all round crazy bitch Pete Burns has entered the fray. Pete Burns was and is the lead singer of Dead or Alive, they had a worldwide hit in 1985 with "You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)" and a few other minor UK hits although apparently he's massive in Japan and has a faithful following around the world. Pete is now known for not just being a mad cross dressing scouser but as a fan of plastic surgery. He's had the works, lips, teeth, lips again and again, face and probably some other stuff and although he wears some rather garish attire and an oven full of makeup he's also one of the most candid and quick witted queens I've seen in a longtime. Every line that comes out of his mouth is challenging and funny and insulting and defiant and fabulous, he's wearing a rather wild jacket in the house apparently made of Gorilla fur. Some of the other housemates are offended by it but Pete wears it with pride as he sees it as a thing of beauty. Now I don't know if I agree with him but it did look awful cosy and snaps to him for refusing to compromise his beliefs or himself - the world would be a better place if we had more people like Pete Burns, if only all men looked good in heels and gorilla fur!