Would you have queued for 4 hours to see Michael Palin sign a book? I wouldn't have but 400 other people absolutely did, and got pretty over excited about it too. It was like the time when bloody Darius came to Aberdeen and a hoard of screaming pubeless teenagers battered each other to get a glimpse of him, only this time, the queue members were old enough to be Darius's granny. Some of these people hero worship Mr Palin and were certina-wettingly happy to be able to meet him, if only for the length of time it took him to write his over practised signature. It was sweet, it was cool that these people were able to meet someone they idolised and who's career they had followed for decades. I can't even imagine ever being able to meet a celebrity I'm that
involved with. I mean can you see me, a geeky gay who dribbles shite about shite, ever getting to get close enough to fart on Britney Spears? Of course I hope that I wouldn't be so excited in her presence that I would slip a puff of wind out my ass. Imagine Britney walking through my fart? Oh the shame. Maybe I need to set my sights lower. I need to fixate on someone that it's not impossible to ever meet. I mean Queen of Fun got to meet her obsession, as unclassy as that was. I can't say it's my dream to meet a glamour model (did I ever bloody tell you that I got chatted up by Jo Guest in a gay bar??! See my archives for a monthly retelling of this story...) but Jordan was actually rather hot in her 3 ft glory, under all that slap. I did meet Amber Benson after queuing for a good 6 hours in the January cold and getting abuse from prepubescent teens with unknown gayness and that was the highlight of 2004 but I'm not fully obsessed with her. Now Eliza Dushku, I'd stay up well past my bedtime to meet that girl but it's just never going to happen. The only 'celebrities' that even come near Aberdeen are ex reality TV 'stars' (that word is looser than a whore's lips), authors no one has heard of and Bryan Adams. Oh and the local news readers who think they are celebrities. It's a tragic state of affairs when you find yourself getting marginally excited when you see Lynne Moncrieff (yes, who?) cycling past you all puffy faced or when you resort to clinging onto Cameron the 2003 Big Brother winner just because he's been on TV and is now standing in the entrance of the gay bar. Maybe I just need to control my obsessive tendencies. Maybe I just need a life.
And so I go pack my little bag for Glasgow. By the time I get there my outfit will have more creases in it than my face in the morning but fuck it, in a bar filled with 95% gay men, who the buggery is going to be looking at my crinkled skirt?
Lil Red, home sweet home :-)
Chewing lolly sticks well after the lolly has gone
One Pill Makes You Smaller by Lisa Dierbeck (?)
Partying in Glasgow
Borders in Glasgow, yay a gay section
People with tudes, don't take it out on the shop assistant
Finding out my girl is away for another week on top of the other two :-(
Queuing for a total of 30 minutes in bloody Boots the shiteing chemist
Not having seen the L Word in weeks... doubt it
Having one pair of straightners betweeen two massive-haired lesbos who are in different cities, not cool
PS Thank you for all the photo suggestions, they are a work in progress that will keep me amused next week :-)