Merry Bloody Ebenezer's Day

It always comes at theis time of year.Christmas day.Or the expectation, of what that might bring about.The tree,the tinsel ,the expected presents..
when I have always found it...a total disappointment.....Or is that the festive christmas story book character raising his annual head...in defiance of what everybody has come to believe.In some ways...Ebenzer Scrooge has to be considered...and his eventual realisation of what Christmas might mean....is all a little big too story book ending..for what significantly is a celebration of the birth of Christianity....
Stables Mangers and Angels....Throw in a couple of shepherds..and a three poofs having lost their way from the Bethlehem Star and Garter..rolled up in tinsel..after a good night out...offering their perfimes and jewellry to apoloigise for rolling in the wrong door.
Give a moment of disbelief to enable a virgin birth...which somehow makes a placenta rather like the spare prick at a wedding..and there you have it...
So ....Go buy presents to present to the child....Ok ,most of them will have stamped in China ,on them by now: and the perfumes and gold will be courtesy of the two dollar shop along with it's knock off perfumes....For those feeling the christmas pinch the two dollar shop has just opened a new world of expectation...WHO THOSE you hold dear.

Ok...Father Christmas....yep we got the Dutch connection..with Nicholas...and the joy he spread. Because he had collected more in the church coffers than he needed ,or thanks to the ever bowing faithful...who dropping their hard earned cash in the collection plate on Sundays....IMagine suprise as you found presents dropped on their hearths that you didn't know what to do with ....Wrapped in paper....who's to know....
But for the rest is all twenthieth century CocoCola....who invented the old boy ,while peddling cocaine additives to a much more appreciative syrup mix....
Now its no sugar or all sugar....and its all a matter of taste
So... well that being what it is I am yet to be convinced that Christmas is likely to rock my fundermental thinking.....
but of course....who would be without the christmas dinner... eating until you've consumed more than is dignified..drunk the christmas cheer until you cant estimate whether you are just awash with sugar ,or an over Consumption of food.....
Ok I am a succour for Christmas Cake..and I have had a christmas tart recently that could be said to be palateable....in a generation who have come to forget the fly cemetry filling you were looking forward to....
and who would spoil christmas for the kids.....
consdiering the adventures I had as a child.....I tend to err on the side of....
sentimentality......
but................it's become a helluva balloo.....and wish the next millenium would tidy it up.....after who's going to convince a terrorist in Pakistan not to throw a brick...just because christianity has to be celebrated.....
Bah Humbug.......

The New Ideal

Well I have been marking time over the last six months..... to see if one has the ability to last longer .....than being the newspapaer that wraps your fish and chips...and have come to the realisation that every day brings its own joys and tribulations.....but in all that appears on the surface has the ability to come back with a karmic result....
wITHOUT APPEARING TO BE TOO MUCH OF A VICTIM......one has to realise that if your waiting for the swing to hit you in the chin as you fall off...It only happens if you wait for it.....
and the time to write memoirs claws and all has passed me by....
and should by others who seek a calmer life....

The Globes

Well just when you thought she had rested her laurels...the old girl shows a bit of leg at Christchurch's Globes....At the specific invitation of her 'sister' the south islands chandelier....Miss Mole....I had thought that the gay calling card might have been silenced...but true to form they came out to celebrate the best of being gay in the garden city....so why not review it in typical gloria style...
Having elected to camp out on her sisters couch she got to see the joy and frustration of organising such an event.....The biggest headache would have to be the feed back one gets from the community who rather than celebrating tend to send missives from the sidelines....Such it was that after the event when party goers went shuffling to the only gay venue in town they found to their dismay that the owner had shut the doors to the revellers....It is a crying shame when as I have often said.....that we as gay or in this new world rainbow orientated shape and in the focus of all.....take pot shots at our own kind.....It just drains what positive energy might have been created...enuf bitching at small beer..
The event was a wow...
Ribena,Auckland Drag Centrepole..was camp in the extreme...and was a backstage beauty.Her grace and charm has never been shown to such effect.Girl.....Five Gold stars
The customary red carpet was a camp affair especially when one is hustled to the back of the building to make one entrance by NZAF beetle.....at the front.....camp at a row of...eh
My personal hightlights had to be the recognition of local divas....Stella Roadkill and Miss Cinnamon....these are hard working girls for the community and offer nothing but charm and grace.....
For the adults....Miss Tatiana and Miss Naomi....are veritable stars....
but having staggered on stage on skyscraper heels for my first number....and trying to retrieve my props might have been problematic if I had not been able to retrieve them from the cat walk....thanks to Miss Ribena I was able to stand upright and get out of harms way.....
But the night Oscars Globes or not belong to the MOLE....
and despite local politics....after years of putting it together..she can still show them all how....

The Time has come

Well the winter has come and gone and I have been left to many conclusions...the biggest being the use that the internet is...and how it has been....and what might have been achieved......having time to cogitate...ruminate......I have found that I am starting all over again.......with a plan in mind.......

Hey......Winter has its options

Having huddled down in the country side for the winter...I have decided to take my brushes out and try my best at creating some original art......so watch Trade me....
we ould all have a new source of amusement....
also a way to beat the recession...
And if there's another way...let the world know

Life in the country...ahem

After the wild excitement of city life..and trying to make sense of what the gay scene might be..I decided that life in a small country town might just be what the doctor ordered...well to some extent it has been.A view of the river,friendly people,and the local gay undertaker....all sorted.
But having to work from scratch.....has its set of disadvantages....
making a new start with new confidence
More Later.
Huntly New Zealand.....gives living away from the main stream a different meaning

Gloria's Gay Equation

Ok....having decided that one has to live out loud and in colour, one also takes responsibility for ones own opinions and musings.Such is so that I have thought to question the 'gay' equation...Gay for me has always been apolitical point of view and not one of sexual preference.The fact remains just having sex with the same sex doesn't actually make you gay queer or anything of the sort.Merely human.
So what is the gay equation.
To my mind it is the constant trying to prop one's self esteem up against what runs paralell to the norm.Times have changed for sure if one takes note of current movie and television trends.The happy homosexual has moved from campy hairdresser and gossip columnists to men without apparent neon signs making out on television. But does that change how..the gay scene' works.
To often I have heard that anybody trying to market the pink dollar is in for a hard time.Mainly due to the fickle nature of a community and it's makeup.Or is it because we have to put ourselves in the shop window,or in as many shop windows before we can settle to a relationship in the 'burbs'...and compare real estate investments as if they were children.
Also,the most common complaint is how the bar industry ,is so bad served by barstaff who are more intent on ticking the 'jewish' typewriter than giving service to customers.
Where being loud and in colour has become a paralell to other countries...where the colourful world of drag seems to be something to draw attention in major cities but rarely sees itself in the local small town environment.So much for the example of 'Priscilla'
But really it doesn't matter how we treat ourselves.....or how we try to educate the masses. If we were to have a healthier attitude to sexual experience,and stopped masking our needs and wants behind the world of the 'cottage' ..the internet..and other conduits...we might have a chance to normalise...
After all looking at a man's crutch isn't always best way to introduce oneself.
So....I ask...and my quest has always been...what is it..and why amI questioning the fact that,despite outward appearances....we fail to grapple with our base instincts..
Pride is for parades.
What makes a gay eaquation...I am still searching for the clue

oh and did we forget you...Here's to the Gorgon

and talking of gay old things.Did I miss you out Truman.
No I wasn't looking over your outstanding talent...it is just you always managed to tell that to the world yourself....but everybody whether they like it or night imagines what it is to have Breakfast at Tifanys....but did they get it right....
Holly Golightly...hmmmm did they not figure that that was.............A drag queen...
SO..what next..In Cold Blood.....Genius...and then if the muses are heard you attack those who were most dear......Now I do have a similar theory..about how a gay man reacts to criticism.....and you certainly had the one liners.....but lest we forget..he was the most beaitiful boy of his age
Truman Capote

Gore Vidal

The Last of the Mochicans

Now if I do things in three.I save the best for last.
I would have to vote for this author as an all time American.
He's everything I would believe that America stood for,stands for...from freedom of speach to wry commentary of the lives of american politics this is the well from which I believe modernist American thinking can be garnered.
Gore Vidal.
From the City and the pillar...to the outrageous Myra Breckinridge
and thats on that little finger...here is an author who has made it his
personal ambition to log and file the human condition and in fact has raised awareness
of....the mores of the western world...So tell me I am wrong...but may his scathlingly funny appocolyptic novel 'kalki' never come to pass....
Politics
Sexual Behaviour
and the ambition of civilisation....
Now how do they make sound bites like that without getting it wrong

Okay....it was....Glass

Okay for sheer poetry actresses worth their pin money have clamoured to be part of Tennesse Williams heroine list....Subsequently I dived deep into directing his epic Streetcar named Desire when I had more sensibility for the Glass Menagerie.....but that and a theatrical lifetime aside.What did he give us.
Fragility.The ability to put plainsong into poetry.
But like many varied as his heroine might have been it was hisshort story in which grande guigol style a submissive is eaten by contract by a muscle builder...ok it reeks of Suddenly Last Summer.Here was a man with an eye to depravity as well as studied beauty.....A character as tragic as his verse.
As he would have it..Life is a slapstick tragedy between bourbons

What ever happened to reading a book The Gay Equation

Just recently I pondered what had the last century given us in the way of literature.Wryly thinking that in this technology driven generation lying with a good book might be something seen as a past recreation,I thought to look at the gay authors....but having shaped literature and thinking of the last century.I wondered if the Gay Equation has created it's own icons....to which I see that time passes...and their writing let alone their thinking might take some thought.
Case in point. Edmund White. Forgetting Elena.Beautiful formed work.All Shite.Total twaddle.....of a variety not seen before or since....
....and to have thought that his musings might amount to something this gentleman of American letters, still takes up space in library shelves. Total wanker.
Or was it when I dived into the pool of your brilliance I was shattered by the reflecting mirrors.
And yes there has to be a certain vanity to be a writer....but a responsibility to be literate. This technology generation will have it summed up.Nice life.Did we care.
I have laboured with this author's work....and have often wondered if they be the sum of all parts

Lost in Translation

In this day and age it seems difficult for the generations of the now to contemplate, the mores of any previous generation. Often lessons are passed down, but some of the amusement in the confusion, is often missed in the translation.

Such is the innocence of age and the naivety of my own mother when faced with daily life.

Les was the town fruiterer. Of course his name wasn’t Les. His father was born in mainland China, before the century could spawn communists.Les had been so named because as he saw it and it soon became apparent. He sold for less. That being his work motto and ethic seemed enough for him to embrace it. His children attended the local primary school, in store bought fashions and assimilation was assumed.
His coy wife was seen with other matrons of the town being outfitted by the town couturier.
The town couturier, requires his very own notes, but suffices to say the symbol of one
Tailored item was a matron’s calling card. To which one expect spring invitations, and late summer inclusions at local events and weddings.
Les and other main street businessmen were known to extol the joys of Chinese whisky. Such forbidden delight. Toasting good luck and a finish to a business week, amongst island banana boxes and headed lettuce seemed common practice. This town had the virtues of prohibition, and a wry eye at its policing. Often an older relative lay prostrate in an anteroom with an elongated pipe and a wooden block for comfort, but this as some many things was a hangover from a time gone passed.
Because of his entrepreneurial skills, the kiwi know how of his late night business companions considered, Les began home deliveries in a modest van. Loaded it up it resembled something more akin to a banana republic.
It also a point of sale for other and sometime personal items. These items, of course in a modern world, can be grabbed from a supermarket shelf. In the day, one practiced several versions of coitus interuptus, embarrassed oneself at the chemist or had the barber slip it to you in the sports pages after a weekly haircut. Any business selling the top shelf became of local legend, as was the fruiterer of the day.
Interestingly enough, he, a generation’s assimilation, had yet to drop the almost comic patois of a second language. Despite best efforts and good intentions this often led
To occasional moments of sheer farce.

My mother ,heavily pregnant and standing at the curbside had a mid winter craving. Lettuce Salad. To expect a lettuce in weather best accompanied by soup, was an unusual enough request. But my mother had been rest assured by many of her neighbours over the clothes line that Les could be relied on for fresh lettuce what ever the season

Braving a chill, that was reported to be straight off the mountain and the remnants of an early morning fog; she waited for the familiar sight round the corner.

Ten.am.Right on time, she thought.
The Van swung into the side of the country road, its occupant all smiles.
Always ready to install his customers with joy and often with tales of his last stop
Les was strangely silent as my mother made her request for one of his special items
His special fresh lettuce.
The eyes twinkled in the fruiterers mind as his smile broadened.

Ah Mrs. Shirl.You asks for my special fresh lettuce. Usually it is the men who are asking for my fresh lettuce before; the horse is out of the stable.

Looking to my mother’s extended stomach his humorous intention was made clear.
Gales of laughter and cheeks of embarrassed delight sprang between the housewife and her green grocer.

A lesson missed in translation.

That a condom is French
And while a Trojan is a metaphor for a horse.
The French letter is now a supermarket object and not at the discretion
of lessons messed in translation.

Taumarunui....A touch of the Memoirs

It was popularized in the folk lore of poet Pter Cape.It's the last stronghold of King Country thinking.A history thats draws it's ability to be a crossroads for a variety of experiences.The Half way point to Nowhere.The original town...but not quite as one would have it in the 'Boo Aye'
Taumarunui.
Being BORN THERE,its paramount that after learning to write one's own name,and your own maternal mother.The Mother of all experience..Taumarunui itself begs to be learnt.
Much has been written but little has been told.Such folk lore is proof of it's heartEmotional affairs can be created from manythings.Flashes,some insights and occurrences that meld into a dream sonata os broken promises and distant dreams.
And to what effect......So here begins....The Diva's memoirs of her small town beginnings......

Its....all in

I have and at some level tried to understand what might have inspired,concieved and doggedly held onto the idea of this venture to which I feel drawn with a sense of mission.But the evidence is clear.It's all in Margarets eyes.
Setting the aging drag queen on its living room stool barside was exactly the level of wicked charm can engender.
But for what ever I may be trying to explain to myself in this..a musing...and it isn't a drag queen looking for a companionable Madge....
The fervour of what is Shampers....is all in Margarets eyes......
That I come to know your story for even this as evidence is precious to me

Miss Gloriousole Forgets,,,Other Crystals in Shampers Glass

The delight is for this among many occasions I have had the joy to share time with this woman.She has been a crystal to the success of my heart.
Ex pupil. Gay recognittion.but at all faces....a reminder of even as years pass...a teacher is proud of their achievements....and the recognition of each other achivements and choices.Cheers Crystal
You make it all worth while...and see no face can you see...you can remain anonymous...
but is that a tear or sweat that falls from my eye
Gloria
Soul indeed.............
indulgent old novel at the best of times......
but life is no rehearsal and I cant write suspense novels...
so diary note...
love comes from unexpected places
you have been strong for both of us

Shampers...Update

When Shampers, Rotorua say after three months operation they were about to have a reopening party
You’d have to wonder what for. To be fair it was definitely a case of out with the old and in with the new. Such news ensured that they were a full capacity bar with a ‘punters’ who understanding the rainbow concept felt free to join in with the atmosphere.
That and the fact that they are Aids aware proactive by having discreet condom bowls on display. In this day and age there are very few who can raise an eyebrow at such practice. Shampers and its staff need congratulating for embracing, what must now be, New Millennium thinking.
Having asked my own services to act as hostess I truly had to wonder what I was in for, with the introduction of a newly christened’ Crystal Chandelier’ who performances were slick slap and of a bouncy
Retro styling. Yet it wasn’t the performance that might have impressed but her general demeanor, which was a delight to behold and have.Exuberantly displaying all things positive in playing out her role. She’s a great role model for those wishing to fall in behind.
The local act’Shampettes’ gave an extraordinary performance of live vocal medleys to include Abba,Motown,and what has become another bench mark in drag entertainment ‘Dreamgirls’ This group I am sure may be remaned by morning but their talent is like a rocket having just been given ignition. They will be a major asset to Shampers continued well being.
For quirky…look at the bar decoration with an aged drag queen seated on her lounger sitting on the bar, courtesy of the owners. Reminding that this is a venture that celebrates the drag experience
So Boys, girls and those with the current disability to define themselves…..This is a goodie.
You go.
Nobody comes away disappointed.

Shampers...Last seen running for Mac Donalds

So what does a diva when she gets stuck out on the street.....and the cocktail party starts to early...why she escapes with her favourite nana in search of Mac Donalds...But this had to be a night of mistaken identity.AFTER ALL THE HANDMAIDEN Gloriousole thought the '
whore's ovaries' were egg on limp biskit....when salmon mouse on a pancake might have been more accurate....
But after so many adventures that could rival reality shows...of when drag queens get sprung....over the last few years...this event rivals many for sheer joi de vivre....mind you leaving your old sister to entertain while you run up the road to MacDonalds.......is so much like another chapter in the adventures of two sisters

Shampers....Introducing Crystal Chandelier

The opening of the diva’s excuses…….Sorry marionette fans, when drag queens become art...It’s difficult to gauge whether you are experiencing the iconic realization of Thunderbird’s Lady Penelope, or His Grace’s Crystal Chandelier.
Now having little to go on, but what I presented with, my argument was always going to one of one sided compliments.
Having just retrieved the dignity of my two sisters’ and in roles where we didn’t quite understand whose role is whose. One who’s wardrobe moment exemplfies standing on the scales after burning up her Jenny Craig Draft Card. The other, a dowager who’s sense of fluffy organization seemed appropriate
It’s all felt a bit Cinderella when I am suddenly developed war speed…a new set of co ordinates….and
Here the titled Head Girl of the School with a soul from St Tinian’s. ‘We are Loving her’………….
Fun isn’t Parker.
Rib Tickling Mi Lady.
Here she is world

The Ball Glittering Crystal Chandelier
Thunderbirds are go.
Virgil

Gloriousole Versus The Pope

Oh to hell and damn with that.Not that I have have ever wondered why I sat through daily masses out of duty of ceremony but I have to scratch my head.Does the pastoral leader of a large part of western thinking promoting genocide.
Now I'd hate to say I was grabbing for stereotypes..but I cant see much effort
in protesting outside one's local catholic church as they are having enough trouble getting them in there in the first place.And you can't knock Values....but did he get misinterpreted or do we give this man the job that the nazis thought they had right.
Best Your popeness.Just shut the fuck up.
If religion be the opiat of the people in some people's courts.I think your hot line to God has several pastoral considerations .Or is that merely making sure your mouth is in gear before putting your mouth into action and how do you tell a pope that

I've broken a lot of habits
and heresy may be the next I have yet to be responsible for....
But is this guy serious.
And who gave hima job for life........
Bless me father but I have sinned

and mea culpa doesnt cut it

The millenium is about Aids awareness not Shutdown

ok...so they coul've spelt my name right..They got Shampers Right

Shamper's Update.......

From Geyserland with Love

Well it seems that they have done the impossible. Shampers ‘Rainbow’ Nightclub and Bar is still a going concern, despite initial staffing difficulties and with the resolute determination of its investors it seems ready to embrace the ‘Bay’ as the gay tourist Mecca for geyser land nightlife..
But one asks, sets it apart from any other bar, dedicated to the ‘rainbow community ‘up and down the country. Now of course it has the pre prerequisites, for most gay or now re named Rainbow, [The Note: Reflect how many names we have chosen to call our community in recent years] bars.
A Cocktail lounge dominated but not exclusive to the cocktail bar area. In fact whatever persuasion one might be, the bending gymnastics of pool players has a certain charm anywhere, one finds. A certain amount of machismo regardless of sexual stereotype. The Dance floor has to be recommended to anyone for its space and dynamic ‘handbag’dj mix and a staff who are only too happy to serve the needs of a traveler in need of a good drink, and a flat out gay old time.
So using the broom so to speak.Shampers Rainbow Cabaret Bar and Night Club is celebrating its first three months in operation by creating what is seen as party night to bring in the future.
With local personalities and enthusiasm the bar will be soon the ‘swingingest’bar in the south east.
With regular party nights , with guest performers, amateur drag queen and competitions being held in the near future, the sight is on creating a Queen of all Queens as an annual event for the Bay.
What more can be said but check out their website…..and maybe plan a weekend end not to take in the sights by day and by night.
You won’t be disappointed anyway you look at it. After all the geyser city is known for its hospitality
Or better yet
Check out their website at
www.shampers.co.nz
So for one who enjoys a steam now and then….
And isn’t slow in putting a box of cold surf down any hole to make a geyser blow
Its all Good and great for the soul…..
With Love…………..Betty Blowhole

The article...Hamilton's Own Rag at Poltical Correctness

Does one preface an immediate question with a history lesson ?
Or does one come to the discussion better informed, or similarly follow the pop culture of the today blindfolded. Having seen the early Obama Days being reflected by John Key’s performance, at this year’s Big Gay Out with an impromptu aerobics exercise. It was their year so to speak, although the Labour force on show failed to reflect the Camelot of Helen Clark iconic arrivals and stirring speeches, it seemed
To reflect philosophically what I have believed for some time. Throw it all in the air and celebrate it all.
‘Now you ask? What’s to stop us? First it would appear that we have to identify the ‘us’. Since legalizing everything, as a consenting act I dare to say that there is little to identify with. But where would St.Joan be without her voices. The pricks of one’s conscience that for the sake of argument beg one to give it the all time ‘kiwi’ go.
So for arguments sake, the lines are drawn as diversely and disparately as our very makeup.
[No, I’m not screaming .Good morning. Call Thin Lizzy on Morning television but high lighting the different worlds we live in as Gay ‘kiwis’]
It used to be somewhat easier when you could ask. Do you remember singing Tom Robinson’s toneless?
‘Glad to be gay’? Or feeling like an illegal alien in own country of birth.
[Prior to which .Comically, as it now seems men were allowed to be homosexual, but feared prosecution for their choir boy’s secret. Women during this period were seen as hardly likely to frighten horses, or flaunt their fancy at the carriage trade.]
Now, it would be reckless of anyone to disparage a generation who has the freedom to experience a homo/bi/tri/pan/metro.non/kink option to their sexuality, without creating a headline, or dismissed as urban myth. But it would be foolish to think that the disopriately proportioned number that attended, this year’s Big Gay Out reflect what it is to be a gay New Zealander .
A knighted actor of the realm standing on Mt Victoria was seen asking what manner of ship was leaving port. Oh piped up his youthful acolyte, It’s the inter island ferry. Which prompted sir knight into retorting? I knew you kiwis were organized. I didn’t know you had a f…ucking navy.
First things first. We’ve had the navy for years. Or what could be dispelled as another popular myth.
Full marks to the New Zealand Aids Foundation Big Gay Out. Over a decade of creating this national event must been commended for being a ‘flagship’ for all things gay and indeed of a rainbow flavor. Despite what appears to be carping in general about management styles, taking the safe sex message to a wider population has to be a priority, and of course is a much wider picture nationally.
For every New Zealander, regardless of where he might call his cock ‘home. The Aids Foundation and
Pride Organisations continue to put this at the front of their ‘kaupapa’.
Considering the diversity of what we assume to be a ‘rainbow’ community it must be ‘ a hats off’
To Hamilton Pride .After a couple of years establishing themselves as an inc. society, they are now set to continue fostering positive enterprises. In fact by thinking locally, it may just happen that this organization and its efforts may be seen on the international stage. This enterprising group have placed, Pride Festivals, Transgendered Remembrances, Waikato Gay Youth and World Aids Day commembrances
As priority events.
To further extend their activities, one particular project has caught my attention. To approach
Hamilton City itself, and its funding bodies to aid their mission in making the city aware of what
World Aids Day should mean. Now of course, when award ceremonies worldwide, saw the international community using red ribbons to denote Aids awareness. I doubt that it was envisioned that other charities saw the benefit of such and now it appears that nationally we have an appeal for every colour
Any rainbow might offer, and generally with a fair more extensive publicity campaign.
So if the red ribbon is now just one among so many then maybe it is possible to create a ribbon in some other form as a comemmoration. In lighting the Waikato’s iconic river red, as is planned, then not only is it
Something the city may take better notice of, let alone the international exposure from the likes of Google Earth. This aside, the funding would also create a street by street appeal within the city, as well as a marketing campaign to actively involve a wider population. With the city embracing this, this determined group will undoubtedly help a shake up to the Waikato long held reputation for a shake up.
Not exactly a drop match in a fireworks factor, but at start in the right direction one would hope. But the possibility that any ghetto like mentality,[ or is that not unlike saying to quote Michael Jackson ‘We are not alone’] has to be recognized when one discovers the’ swing generation’ are fast romping for their sexual delights through the pages of the Internet.
I am reminded in my rambling, at this point to draw a parallel with the question posed by my maternal parent.
‘Where did they tell you … you were ‘gay’ Can anybody line up. Is there a discount on bulk.
Now I have doubts whether in anyone’s life time that Hamilton would gather any sort of army to champion all things ‘rainbow’ but a stalwart bunch seem to have the bit between their teeth in trying to achieve what once was seemingly impossible.
For those with a yen to listening to community radio ‘Flat Out Pride’ appears to be going from strength to strength. Its one hour format bringing what’s current in national thinking and awareness with in depth interviews with local personalities and in some cases have found more under the carpet than dust.
A current University study has championed Waikato Pride, and is using it as a base for study. This is yet another solid piece of establishment for the little society that celebrates its rainbow status in the heart of the Waikato.
If one has to create a ‘map of the Waikato’ then first and foremost must be the continual existence
Of Gay Link. This long established service, and meeting place has done much over the last few decades
In bringing a gay sensibility to the city, and support for those wanting to find out the parameters of
A gay existence in the rural Waikato. Internet links to these organizations can be found readily, as can the more commercial ventures of Shine Night Club and Bar, and the Guyz Male Bathhouse which continue to to keep our ‘face ‘ in the picture so to speak.
So to the question. How does one define oneself in this new Millennium styled world. Surely the likes of Waikato Pride and other support networks have a lot to shoulder. But without such, the possibility that
The idea of ‘gay ‘or rainbow definition would slide further into the miasma that makes up New
Zealand Society today. The Question possibly is. Does that really matter?
Until next time.
Miss Gloriousole
[ add these and look to the future
www.hamiltonpride.co.nz
gaylinkwaikato@gmail.com
waquy@ihug.co.nz [ QUEER YOUTH]
www.agenderwaikato.co.nz
kate.duggan@hmss.org.nz [ PFLAG]
www.guyz.co.nz
www.shinenightclub.co.nz
www.glamz.co.nz

When Drag was

The Drag of our parents generation was first shown as a mirrorto the fey appeal of icon Marilyn Monroe who's lisping anecdotes and dizzy demeanour have been so oft imitated.Yet it is two men,dressed as women,living as women that brough the most appeal to my sensibilities......
Then of course the Iconic Priscilla burst forth.....with Americas...Wong Foo ensuring that every side of theuniverse understood theFun to be Had...in a drag queen road trip
Now consider it a reality show and its a winner.
But whowould be likely to pick to opposite ends of the drag triangle...being myself Miss Gloriousole and her Muse..H.R.H. Princess Beverly up...on such an offer....
Sadly the being discovered in a deaprtment store is pure Hollywood.....so
its find the fun for your self before the face creams fail
You go girls

Straight up at ya

Just when you thought you had the world to rights...it takes a turn at rubbing you up the wrong way.No so for my eternalised in caramel sister Miss Mole.....
Having just come away from what could have been akin to a world scale ego clash with the dignity she deserved.....I have found that even advising my sister in this topsy turvy world can sometimes go astray......but GOIL you have to admit for a few old sheilas...we dont do bad....and the blessing of it is that.....we are not only quotable...but tend to back up the spoken word in a network fraught with heresay and
insecurity...........Time to take lessons from the wheelchair generation say I.
tO QUOTE oSCAR wILDE...iF THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT YOU YOU DONT EXIST...AND IF THEY ARE TALKING...THEY TEND TO BE EXAGERATING YOU...IN STYLE.....
CHEERS GIRLS

but...ask the horses mouth.Its preferable that conversing with the horses arse
Usually I find....
and that interestingly enough is from what could have amounted to a horses arse ...

well if they can see all and say...I have an idea...we'll both bend over and you can check if ourhats are on straight

The Short Story Award

.Standing waiting to hear words that by now have been churned into art by four sets of editors you don't real feel like the author.
Sure the art design says it all. The illustrator should've endured the experiences of the last twenty years rather,than accept praise for a moment of microscopic detail
that had caught the publisher's attention. The way her smile radiates this small gathering,she's intending a few more bedroom sheets to cover,before her new next book opening. OH good on her.Why the hell why was anybody here for anyway.
Mindless sychophants sipping catering type plastic goblets,and finding the usual display of cheese replaced by slivers of vegetable,soaked in Vinegar.Smiles manufactured for the glossies.What was an author anyway. The summation of words gathered for an occasion.
and who was I.
The entertainment
Quote Jesus Christ in Musical form.Can we start again please.
Having never kept a diary of any note most of what follows will capture your imagination or sadly see it as a side show attraction.
Recently I was being,visited by an old friend.And while all wounds have long healed,and balances made in both directions for former indiscretions.It was prophetic to see he,that had arrived at your door some years in the past, at a philosophical crossroads . Meeting such men at those particular junctures have tended to mean; Princes though they may appear to others ,in actual fact, have the arse hanging out of their trousers.
Time Slip in what ever conduit suits you and take ten years
Now to sit in what must appear abject poverty in what I currently call my surroundings.To find one's friend crowing over a largely salaried job,and a toy boy to boot, has the ability to take the taste out of your mouth. But politeness as it may be.Social Etiquette observed.
Oh to him.Yes standing there.Friend of a reinvented celebrity.So now.
Did the strings of Vinegar complement days,without luxury.
Such is the mark of elegance when a packet of chocolate biscuits would do.
So is to write,like the visit without respite.Is the author the creator of the occasion.Award those who have come to find themselves in the Saturday morning review,that has the ability to end up under one's fish and chips on by Sunday Evening......and yet....Hamlets best addition.Words words words.....
Try as I might. Is the observation enough or finding out that as one grows older,thepicture gets bigger and the individual becomes insignificant,despite his carbon trail.

Getting over ourselves

For the most part the human experience has had many differing twists and turns....and even in liberal times one has to consider....that its a case of being a little more confident when presenting yourselves to the world....be it drag queen,trangendered or flagrantly bi....or just somebody after a few naughty thrills.
Sure life is a banquet.....But in embracing your new reality understand that you are in charge of it...
Ok we all like to say how hard done by by the wordl we are individually but seriously folks....it isnt the stone age..and we aren't....
I have long agho embraced what i am philosophically...it generally a case...of living it
Cheers Queers

Big GAY Out.............And son who needs it

oK....It been part of the gay social calendar for the last ten years in New Zealand..and I thought...hmmm on reflection.Time to make what ever point I think should be out there......Now being personal opinion I do hope that my view isnt too one sided...But it is for the most part well meant.
Congratulations to the NZAF for grabbing the ball....when all appears to be ready to
fall around it's ears...or is it when the going gets toughtthe tough getting going.
Seems to have been the case.In the extreme heat of a summers day.The thought of running around like a pantomime character really must have a few pay offs....
The delight of being able to say to a wider community...CELEBRATE ICONS....
and should the icons be disposed for the day....show joy in their colour.
Yet despite two seconds of national television..what had it mattered...
To dear friend and drag sis..H.R.H. Princess Beverly of the Virgin Islands...
one day in the calendar to enjoy the fullness of the experience...Mine I feel if I wasn't dressed for it I would be wondering what I was there for...The gay community being the....fractionated group of sexual like beings that they can be.....Times have changed since the government saw sense....Now there is no Outrage...
No reason to flaunt...We are what we are....or I am what I am.....
and in that being able to dumb down so the rest of the world still has the impression that we are represented by the more vocal....than those who have a considered view......
But oh to be young...wishful thinking on my part....But to see young lovers free...
it somehow appears all worth while....and worth the continum....
But fun and frivolity aside....my day was made with meeting
the countries first in so many ways
Georgina Beyer. Former MP...and still Diva.
He calm,assured manner really should be reflected in so many of my sisters.The crying
shame at this point is that..depsite her many and varied talents...she appears without a suitable platform to launch herself back into the world. Someone please.Give this woman a job.....She still hasn't run the race she appears determined to run...Whaia...To the gay community you are the only one who titles are so richly deserved...Impressed.No this blogger was sincerely humbled
and mad it a day to remember
Cheers queers

Celebrating

Ok.............so when Divine appeared in the John Waters B grade classic..we all shrieked....she cant act....But does that matter.She was out their creating a van guard in an industry that has Jude Law the world most eligible bachelor divorcee reaching for heels to grab a new screen role...
Ok.....so you have too much fashion and need for attention than most folk...but would it be interesting to find that in reflection such lurid imagery in those i have come to admire...have had an integral sense to what it is to drag it up....Sadly this cross dressing has gone from the delight of illusion to the seedy ability to arouse
erotica in men who's libido needed more than a freudian slip
Or have I got that wrong...when the blue nature of the likes of icon Danny La Rue's repartee can make you blush....it has a reflective mirror in a life of childhood irish catholic gothic memory.....always the reason for many a dirty joke....
so yeh Divine you took us from behind the Bike sheds....pity so many of your imitations are trying to drag you back there
just a musing..i suppose

oscars

Dusting off the Gloves....or How to give up smoking and not lose your temper

Well....it's really hard to get a real grip on things until you have to throw away,what you used to call one of life's little pleasures.I ask you all to carry on smoking.Ash Trays are provided. Thank you. and the sandtraps in the Vintage World War One Helmuts are not your grandfather's ashes.You may extinguish at any time in them.Thank you...the excess smoke means I don't have to use vaseline over the lens.It seems so Twentieth Century to light the scene a la Casablanca...when now the icy lines of reflective glass and Imax buildings dot the skyline.
Standing on the sidewalk indirect competition with the automobile,the smoker has been austracised.
In times past there was ladies smoking room at department stores.
Gentlemen retired for a cigar. The image of John Wayne's Lung, if it had been available might have set the tide of political correctness.Now after some twenty five years of following Sir Walter Raleighs gift from the indians at the end of a filter...
Time to...cut the anchors and set the unstable ship of rationality to venture.
Ok.
I use a cigarette in the average conversation as a matter of course. Realise that most people don't. Strike One.
It give's me something to do with my hands.Take up juggling.It's annoying but it keeps your hands busy.Strike Two.
It fills gaps in conversation.Well if you had anything to say it might be considered a conversation.Move on You're bored. Strike Three....and who said that's when they call you out.The list goes on.
It's a weight thing. Well.If it's a weight thing start the exercise.Lighting a cigarette is barely exercising an idea.
I use it to relax. Most people find some extra time to masturbate.Utilise time smoking in pursuit of other activity..mental and well as...yada yada yada...
and before you know it ,you have filled out a months subscription to Jenny Craig
and you are contemplating a self help book...when the very idea of Self Help is wearying....
OP'S ...or as they say Other peoples.Considering the recession .It wouldn't take long before you'd be given the exit card in any conversation.
Ok.As long as they stop the sophorific advertising for a smoke free generation.
I used to think every time that one delivered it's message, amidst the male deodourant,easy cook,and whiteware commercialism of Television.
Yeh don't be a cheap skate.Get digital. End of Strike.
Take it out on your friends.At the end of any day any emotion expressed in the drying out process....may be reviewed ,but unlikely to miss it's intent.
You're Out.
Progress report.....I am contemplating three small coloured balls.

try this

The entertainer

In Memory of

If half the world I knew looked at the career and achievement of this woman.....just tack onto the video i found of her adoring public.....even weeks before we left us...
as for politics in the world....
It always need entertainment
The woman with the cat in her voice

EARTHA..............the original

The Divas New Clothes

Watch this space....I must get back after wiping my nose from laughter.....
For whats its worth folks.....Love comes from manyunexpected places...and little of the reality is whether your have imagination to believe
............awwwwwww My friend...cheers...and funnyenough I better start giving this perosn lessons to understand the internet,,,so at least she can see what a model of paralell relaity she may be
........

Act One

My life as seen by my significant other.....
and by way of adoption. Having been used to the company of cats as companions I cheerfully with half a heart playing Mother Teresa,I went where the cats of indiscriminent parentage are usually found.......Well in looking for my hearts desire...and what I had been used to....I was looking for a black cat....easy.Witch like quality.I had read Bell Book and Candal.Hell.I would have directed it on stage if Kim Novak hadn't...just touched the edge of witchcraft,in the classic film.
They showed me albino feline....now its not the look,the buggers are deaf usually...High maintenance. Oh what to do.....whats this..A TABBY PERSIAN sitting with its claws in the cage I had so diligently brought to receive the thirty five dollar donation to the dispensing cattery.............NOTHING FOR IT.....IMAGINE THE FUR....MALTING....OR SI THAT MAULTING......ah......THE EMPRESS OF A THREE ACT COMEDY....IT WAS Fredrica Von Stade....[get that Youtube watchers.] and this silly comic opera that inspired me to name my companion
COSI....
also having seen a play set in a mental institution in Australian Film Genius
seen just south of Hamilton in a community who couldn't raise a laugh about comic reactions in an institution recently closed after some decades of funding the town's inner resources...wasted thought I
AND IF SHE EVER KICKED THE MORTAL COIL....
she's make a nice COSI
more on that later......But my meditations as of this is the view in which both my cat and I have had to observe the last decade.....
Fragile at fifteen....I digress....because in this the world of...is there anybody out there....is a small and humourous friendship...that has the ability to reflect the last decade.....and
realising how muchof a COSI it had been

Cosi............The Three Act Cat

The Next Event

Watch this space

well....the lights are on

But seriously folks......now we are hooked to the cyber space...maybe its time to un derstand what the world appears to be doing here.....actually I should focus less on what is in the present....and look to futures....with acid lined bot nots from my lively past

Well.....How Gay is that

One wonders occasionally reading the gay media...whether we are just punching in old sterotypes in order to make copy...........Or is negativity part of the swamp that we have to climb out of before we can truly appreciate ourselves....
Now in bi cultural New Zealand it would appear to be the culturally sensitive thing to do it learn Te Reo or the language.Strangely enough a soul felt friend suggested to me in the 90s.....that really ...if maori weren't ready to stand onm their two hind quarters to walk the talk...would it not appear patronising for me pakeha to do so....
okay...my anology has to be...as a gay commeunity...a morphis of an idea i am yet to comprehend....is that dog......standing on its hind legs.....but the amazing thing..is that it talks as well....why does the patter at times have to be such idle speculation and soul destroying salvos at THE MEDAL O.B.E.
Other Buggers Efforts
Just wondering..................