Buck$ Night

Just cause we can’t get married doesn’t mean we can’t have a Bucks Night! Why should the straights have all the fun?

If there’s one thing the gayers know how to do well its have a good time. Only natural then that there would come a time when we’d want to put our own spin on this homo-erotic, straight-boy tradition.

The very, very smart people at Australian Marriage Equality (AME) are holding a fundraiser this Friday, Buck$ Night and Hen$ Night. GENIUS!!! AME need all the support – and cash – they can get as they are leading the charge to bring about marriage equality in Oz. They are good people doing phenomenal work. And I think this event is just the most brilliant idea to raise money and awareness.

So all our little Twitter cool-gang are going. I’m moist with excitement. And any other boys who’d like to join us you’d be more than welcome. I’m expecting that Buck$ Night could be my absolute favourite night of the year! Even topping the night I split my head open at the Imperial after JoThornely’s 40th.

Slide Bar & Cabaret

I do love a party. And I especially love a party with a purpose. You are making a difference while drinking cocktails rather than just getting drunk.

Wouldn’t it be ironic if I met my future husband, who I can’t marry, at a Bucks Night to raise money so that we can marry.

Obviously it won’t be a debauched, tacky night like our straight-brothers organize. I imagine it will be very glamorous and stylish and the strippers will have doodles. And dance music! And strobe lighting. And of course there will be drag queens dressed all mother-of-the-bride.

I could live out my dream of being a Flower Girl, it would hardly be inappropriate at such an event. I’d love to turn up in a little pink frilly dress with Baby’s Breath in my hair. With cute little white patent pumps. But I’ve never done drag in my life and I’m not about to start now. Even though I was mistaken for a Lady Boy twice in Thailand.

So boys (and girls) if you are not doing anything this Friday night you’d be mad if you missed it! And if you don’t come I think you should be donating to Australian Marriage Equality anyway.

Buck$ Night

Friday, September 23

9pm to 4am

Slide Bar & Cabaret

Click here to buy your tickets

Poolside gossip, my favourite.

Lady M and I. Some may call us judgemental. Others may even call us bitches.

We much prefer the terms ‘people-watchers’ and ‘social commentators’. That gives us an air of dignity we feel appropriate.

The very glamorous Lady M.

We are at the end of our 2 week flap around Koh Samui and Koh Tao and SOOOOOOOO much of our fun times have been around 'commentating' on others. It is ridiculous fun.

We both love people-watching! We come up with their backstories, we give them personalities and professions, we are Carson Cressly when it comes to their wardrobe. All in whispered tones and behind upheld hands.

For example, we spent half an hour in this town’s biggest nightclub the other night and for all of that time we tried to work out who was a prostitute and who wasn’t. We had two definites and many contenders. Prince William was there with two mates who all wore pants and loafers – the Green Mango is not the place to play posh. Three girls in front of us, we decided a church group, didn’t have a drink between them. We didn’t trust them at all and almost asked for them to be thrown out. We were aching for the Russian construction workers to undo another button for our amusement. And the poor guy who got dumped by three ladies because he couldn’t even buy their attention. So much fun.

Our biggest cause for 'discussion' this past week has been the frightful German lesbians at our resort. They seem to be following us everywhere. They are in their late 60’s. They burnt us Day 1 when they stole our umbrella and table and Lady M saw red. As Lady M says "you can’t trust anyone who doesn’t use the pool and beach in front of them but instead only the showers to cool down".

My personal favourite group has been the four unbelievably beautiful boys who arrived on Day 3. Tall, blonde, tanned, buff. Despite us sneaking around behind shrubbery to perv on them we still can’t work out their indiscriminate accent. As long as they have their shirts off I don’t care what language they speak. But there was a late entry in the 'Hot Boys of the Pool' comp who I think took out the title...

Our biggest cause for mirth has been age-inappropriate dressing – which seems to go hand-in-hand with resort holidays. Lady M has some hard and fast rules. Lets not forget she is an incredibly stylish Melbourne fashionista. Women over 45 should not wear bikini’s. Sparkly wedges on anyone over 30 is a big mistake. Brief European Speedo’s on older men is disturbing. Larger women should always wear a one piece. And these are just the rules for around the pool. On the street it’s a whole different ball game.

This town comes alive at night and it seems everyone lives out their fantasies. And of course, we ‘commented’ on it all. We’d be sitting facing each other in a restaurant and then the now familiar smirk of Lady M would sweep across her face. I knew immediately there was something for me to see. A casual turn of the head and 9 out of 10 times I could spot it immediately; a grandmother in a mini-skirt, Eastern European ladies-of-the-night, Aussie footballers in Singha singlets, English lasses in 6 inch stiletto’s on cobbled streets. Koh Samui has it all for judgemental bitches like Lady M and I.

We will miss Charlotte and her family the most though. They have intrigued us greatly poolside. Charlotte is a 3 year old; some days she was a delight, others a complete brat. But she’s a Daddy’s girl through and through and he works hard to keep his bitch-wife in the life she thinks she should be accustomed. They brought on holidays Dad’s heavily pregnant sister who needed a break for we thought she was about to become a single-mother. Than low-and-behold on Day 4 Aunty’s ‘partner’ turned up!  A brute of a man in a tight trunk who spends too much time in the gym. Well this threw us for 6. Aunty’s baby has a Daddy after all. Charlotte’s gone now and we miss her.

This is how we pass our time, coming up with stories like this.

I love a resort holiday! Especially with my dear friend Lady M.





Home time now. xoxoxo

NINJA! Best restaurant in the world!

Hands down this is the best restaurant I’ve ever been to in the world. It is also the dirtiest, the strangest and the most likely to give you food poisoning. It’s called Ninja!

One thing I’ve learnt on this trip with Lady M is that the cheapest food is also the best. She’s taken me to (loosely termed) restaurants that previously I would never have set foot in, may have even crossed the road to avoid. But she has proven me wrong time and time again. The locals know a thing or two about food, and that even though you run the risk of dysentery, the taste of the food is worth it.

But the best of the Best is a 24 hour establishment on the main drag in Koh Samui called Ninja. Its menu has the weirdest mix of dishes but we only sampled from the Thai section, and it was glorious. But it’s just not about the food at Ninja, it’s the whole package. It’s an experience. Here are all the reasons why I love it. Seriously.

12. Here is Lady M enjoying her Dunhill approx. 7m from the kitchen. Why shouldn’t smokers be able to smoke so close to other peoples food cooking.

11. Wild dogs can wander in off the street. The Slovakian backpackers at the table next to us one night even started patting them.

10. They use toilet paper for napkins. I have to say this is not unusual though in this town. We’ve even stockpiled some nights in our handbags in expectation of a toilet emergency.

9. We used said toilet paper to wipe down our table. Lady M just did her side. Here is what she found.

8. Its in a tin shed. You sweat more than at the gym (well so others tell me).

7. They serve your Bacardi Breezers in stubby holders. In this heat this means more to the patrons than air-conditioning.

6. Now have you ever seen a cleaner fridge in your life? Ignore the grime for a minute, our drinks were the coldest we had in Koh Samui.

5. This is their cash register. Yes, correct, they haven’t taken their calculators out of their packaging yet.

4. This is the cheapest restaurant in the world. The first time we went we had 3 dishes and four drinks, including squid, and it cost 411 Baht. Which is approximately $13. The second time we had 5 dishes and 4 drinks and it was 400 Baht.

3. To take down your order they write it on ripped up bits of beer carton. They then stick the pieces of cardboard in a slot with your table number on it. When you pay they just whip out the scrappy bits of cardboard to tally your bill. Now how’s that for resourceful.

2. We ordered squid where you paid by the weight. I was so confused. But they whipped out some kitchen scales (which had quite obviously been used before) slapped some squid on your table and then weighed it in front of you. They wrote the weight on a scrap of cardboard. I was beside myself. But goddamn it was the very best squid I’ve ever eaten!

1. The food was amazing. Phenomenal in fact. Especially their curries. And taste trumps the risk of diarrhea every time!

So if ever you are in Koh Samui can you please, please, please try Ninja? Just ignore all your first world concerns about hygiene and dive right in. The food will delight you and the rest will astound you.

They think I'm a Lady-Boy!

Twice in the last two days I’ve been mistaken for a Lady-Boy!

What the fuck???

I know I can be camp but I hardly think I’ve slipped into full drag with an hourglass figure. I’m hairy, rotund and can’t walk in heels.

But twice! That’s a pattern.

The first time was at this beach bar Lady M and I stumbled upon. One of those places with day beds, cocktails in a bucket and a swarm of locals selling you plastic shit. Of course I bought myself a set of pink flashing Minnie ears.

So Lady M and are lounging with our Sea-Breezes when this annoying 10 year old little pretty girl comes up to us again. And again, I said ‘No thanks’ to whatever she was selling.

“You a Lady-Boy!” she says to me.

I turn to Lady M, “Wha…?”

Lady M whispers… “She called you a Lady-Boy”

The little girl points at my Minnie ears and then says…

“…Yeh, and you’ve got boobs!”

Then she grabbed my man-boob. Twice.

HONK! HONK!

I nearly died, I was completely mortified. Lady M was hysterical. She nearly passed out from laughing so hard. In fact, she’s still laughing about it today.

The second time was a little more subtle. I went to a rather up-market spa, well up-market for Koh Samui, for a much needed facial. I needed to reverse the signs of aging caused by the sun. Gay much???

I chose a lovely after-sun care package. The treatment was spectacular. I loved every second. Layer after layer of moisture. I didn’t even mind her squeezing my blackheads on my sunburnt nose. But then towards the end it started to get a bit weird and there was some giggling from the girls behind me.

It felt like she was painting my face. Then I thought “Surely not, is she putting foundation on me?” but I was too embarrassed to say anything.

Next came a powdering. Then some colour to the lips.

I was laying in the chair thinking I’m gonna look like Bozo the Clown and was dreading looking in the mirror. Truth be known when I finally got to look in a mirror I kinda loved my new flawless complexion, shading and lip colour.

On exiting I checked the brochure and it said ladies get a light make-up with the treatment. Did they think I was a lady? Surely not. So they must think me Lady-Boyish.

Now I know I’m currently sporting a brilliant Smurf-blue nail polish and never go anywhere with out my headband but surely this doesn’t completely over-ride my extreme masculinity. I wasn't even wearig my new gorgeous Moo-Moo.

Perhaps there is a little Lady-Boy in me after-all.

Amateur drag here I come.

Anniversary.

I’m just writing for me today. Please don’t feel I need a reaction or sympathy, or anything like that. I’m actually laying on a beach on Koh Samui wearing a moo moo and having a great time so I’m in a really good place – geographically and emotionally.

But I can’t let today go by without writing about the anniversary of my Dad’s death. 11 years ago today, he was only 56. 11 years is a long time though and it’s a long time to heal. But anniversaries are shit in the sense that they are very specific. They force you to remember the events of a certain day in time. If it’s a wedding, great, lots of good memories. If it’s a death or tragedy than an anniversary is pure shit.

My poor Mum had to call both my Bro and I to tell us the news 11 years ago today. How she did that I’ll never know. I was sitting at my desk at Channel Ten. I very clearly remember that absolute complete loss of control when Mum first called. Its emotional, its physical, it’s everything. It just breaks you in two. You just loose all control of yourself in every sense. After that your head and heart are not in the same place together again for some time to come.

I know my workmates got me home that day and my friends got me on a plane. I know mum and Cousin Trude met me at the airport. I know all our family was together.  I remember things more as ‘situations’ after that. Mum, Bro and I with the funeral director, my amazing family. Sonia and Alana making tea and sandwiches all weekend, sitting in Cass’s spare room to write the eulogy. Massive breakdown getting out of the car at the funeral, giving the eulogy but not what I said. At the wake I fell in a heap, my body packed it in, and I curled up in my childhood bedroom.

See this is the sort of stuff that anniversaries make you remember. Cause it’s all about a date and what happened on that day. It’s tough on the anniversary of a tragedy in your life to remember the healing, the progress, and the good memories which over time you’ve come to do for the other 355 days a year. I resent that the anniversary drags me back to that dark place and makes me forget everything else.

There is absolutely nothing you can do to prepare for the sudden loss of a parent. In hindsight it took me much longer to get my life back on track than I thought at the time. And I think the sooner you accept you will never be the same again the easier it becomes. I also learnt how to accept that there are times that you are gonna be emotional, angry or really sad and that there is nothing you can do about it. My advice to anyone who loses someone now is ‘just take care of yourself, do what you need to do’.

But I’m not gonna dwell on that tough time or on the life I shared with my Dad. That’s probably a little too personal, even for me. Instead…

I think I share a very special bond with Dad in death. I’m not sure when it started but I’m pretty sure it was not long after that initial trauma. There are times when I know that Dad is with me. I can sense him with me. It’s always fleeting but he just pops up every now and then, sometimes stronger than others, but always in a good way. He has a presence and I feel him with me at the most random times you can imagine. I love that he checks in. I shared this with Aschapelle and over the years it was great to have him there with me when I could say “Dad’s here”.

Now I’m not Christian and I could hardly be described as spiritual but I believe in this. I was concerned in the early years cause you don’t want your parents seeing everything you do – especially 2004 - but I also believe there is no judgement. He’s just there with me.

I’ve also learnt to call on him for support. Whenever I’m going through a tough time, am really stressed or have a high-pressured situation to get through I call on him to support me through it, to prop me up. And if it’s a really big problem for me I call on my Aunty Bub as well. I’m very lucky cause I have two guardian angels. And considering the luck I’ve had in my life despite my own stupidity and foolishness they are obviously the two best guardian angels ever!

The other bond with Dad ‘in death’ is seeing more of him in me. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone on this, but the older you get the more you realise and understand how much you are like your parents. I’ve always been a Mummy’s boy and take after her a lot. Since we lost Dad I’ve come to understand the similarities between us a lot more, especially in the last few years. There is more of Dad in me than I ever thought. Some of it good, some of it bad, a lot to learn from. It’s very comforting to feel that part of your father lives on in you. It will make me a better person.

So yes, it’s a sad day. But I’m determined not to get lost in thinking about the details of this date, the sense of loss or the life not lived. It’s taken a long time but I can draw strength from the bond that Dad and I have now. It’s so different to before, and I don’t really expect anyone to understand, but it’s a bond I treasure.

It doesn’t matter how many years have passed since we lost him, I will always be my father's son.

Love you Dad. Xoxoxo

Steven

Four days of Feral.

Lady M and I went feral in Kho Tao. Washing, brushing, hair product, deoderant all became optional extras. To show how feral, this was our conversation on our final night.

“Lets get all posh for our final night, get all dressed up and wear underwear and a t’shirt.”

“Yeh, lets get all dressed up. Why don’t we even wash our hair!”

See so things got a little feral in Kho Tao. But we were just going with the flow, it’s that sort of place.

Kho Tao is basically a fishing village in the middle of bum-fuck no-where that has a beautiful beach and even better weather. But it’s a flight and a 3 hour ferry ride to get to from any major city. So tourism is slow on the uptake here. It’s the place you go when you want to cut yourself off from the world, isolate yourself, and it is truly brilliant.

It’s full of gorgeous German and Scandinavian backpackers, wannabe divers and the rejects from The Only Way Is Essex. All young. And everyone is ridiculously tanned, and I mean EVERYONE.  I think once people get there they can’t be bothered leaving again. Or wearing clothes. Formal dressing for most means putting on a singlet. And of course there’s the incredibly friendly locals who’d do anything to keep you happy and spending your cash.

There are no resorts, none of the chain hotels. Lady M has been a few times before so she is practically an expert. She booked us into these huts where you had to specify that you wanted hot water, television and a toilet. We had the posh huts in the posh resort. We found a frog in our bathroom. The shower only had one tap. There was no roof above the shower. The television only intermittently worked. Wifi was slower than Cliff Young.

But you just give yourself over to this place. Embrace it. We spent our days just laying around in the sun, reading good books. We’d stroll along the beach the 400m into town to get lunch, stroll back for some more sun. Afternoon nap before heading back into town for cheap as shit massages, more food and cocktails.  Talk about recharging the batteries.

The food was unbelievable. Seriously unbelievable. Now I love a curry and these were the best I’d ever eaten. And just such simple food. If these restaurants were anywhere else in the world I would never step into them. But they were amazing. And so cheap. Each night the two of us would dine with cocktails and it would be less that $AUD10 - FOR THE TWO OF US!!! Unbelievable.

So I’ve had my head massaged, my feet (numerous times), a back/shoulder/head combo, full body oil and full body Thai. One place we went to literally left us bruised but you can’t really complain for $8. In fact I still have a sore neck from that woman, she was 4 foot 5 but with the strength of the Thai army. Lady M was shell-shocked after hers, she’s a delicate flower. She is from Melbourne.

If only they knew we probably hadn’t showered or brushed our teeth in days. Too unhygienic to be touched.

The absolute highlight was the final night. We’d been such nanna’s ‘recharging’ that we were in bed by 10pm most nights. We wanted to cut loose and stay out till midnight!  There’s all these beach bars set up with bean bags and cushions where they serve cocktails by the bucket – not even joking.  We got prime position cause us nanna’s got there so early so we were suitably drunk but the time the party kicked in. And the fire-twirlers.

So much fun pretending we were 24 again. I was completely overdressed wearing a t’shirt but still we made friends. Well, Lady M did. She made friends with a complete wanker English toff who it turns out was on Australian Princess. He said he couldn’t come to Australia cause he was so hated, he knows cause he Googles himself. Lady M goes “No, not at all. No one would know who your are.” SHUT HIM DOWN.

I was obsessed with the fire-twirlers. Especially when they took off their shirts. Sexually frustrated much? I took about 1000 photos. May have been because they were so damn cute or it could’ve been the 20 Sea Breeze’s. By the end of the night Lady M and I were so sure they could win Thailand’s Got Talent.

We stumbled back down the beach just after midnight – thank god we could find our hut, a small miracle considering they all look the same. We were very self-congratulatory about being so wild and crazy and staying out past 12. When Lady M I first met we’d go home after Day 2. We’re so mature now. We may not wear underwear but we no when to call it quits.

Poor Lady M though. She had the dreaded south-east Asian bad prawn and became more ridiculously ill than I’d ever seen anyone. Hit her like a ton of bricks. And the worst of it was that we had to get on a boat in crazy winds for the 3 hour trek back to Koh Samui. The good part was she was so exhausted she passed out. She slept through 40% of the boat vomiting! It was truly hideous. Everyone from the kids to the German lesbians were throwing up. I found solace on the top of the boat and it was a truly beautiful ride from there. This part of the world is STUNNING!!!!!

So now we are back in Koh Samui. Back in the lap of luxury in a 5 Star resort where I believe we rightfully belong. We’ve showered, cleansed, brushed, moisturised, plucked, flossed, deoderised and buffed ready for the mean competition of day bed position selection.

Yep, we’re having a real tough time this holiday.

P.S. Lady M bounced back in under 16 hours from her food poisoning! Nothing two swims, a club sandwich and a massage couldn't fix. She did avoid seafood on the menu tonight though.