Landers

Kulula Air is an airline that doesn’t take itself too seriously. This pictures of it’s new livery show that let alone the stories below them! Although I’m not sure I believe all the stories I know the pictures are real which makes me want to believe the stories! I really wish they did international flights!

As well as the best livery they have the best flight attendants! – or so these stories would let you believe.

- On a Kulula flight, (there is no assigned seating, you sit where you want) passengers were apparently having a hard time choosing, when a flight attendant announced, “People, people we’re not picking out furniture here, find a seat and get in it!”

- On another flight with a very “senior” flight attendant crew, the pilot said, “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve reached cruising altitude and will be turning down the cabin lights.  This is for your comfort and to enhance the appearance of your flight attendants.”

- On landing, the stewardess said, “Please be sure to take all of your belongings.  If you’re going to leave anything, please make sure it’s something we’d like to have.”

- “There may be 50 ways to leave your lover, but there are only 4 ways out of this airplane.”

- “Thank you for flying Kulula.  We hope you enjoyed giving us the business as much as we enjoyed taking you for a ride.”

- As the plane landed and was coming to a stop at Durban Airport , a lone voice came over the loudspeaker: “Whoa, big fella. WHOA!”

- After a particularly rough landing during thunderstorms in the Karoo , a flight attendant on a flight announced, “Please take care when opening the overhead compartments because, after a landing like that, sure as hell everything has shifted.”

- “Welcome aboard Kulula 271 to Port Elizabeth. To operate your seat belt, insert the metal tab into the buckle, and pull tight.  It works just like every other seat belt; and, if you don’t know how to operate one, you probably shouldn’t be out in public unsupervised.”

- “In the event of a sudden loss of cabin pressure, masks will descend from the ceiling.  Stop screaming, grab the mask, and pull it over your face.  If you have a small child travelling with you, secure your mask before assisting with theirs.  If you are travelling with more than one small child, pick your favourite.”

- Weather at our destination is 50 degrees with some broken clouds, but we’ll try to have them fixed before we arrive.  Thank you, and remember, nobody loves you, or your money, more than Kulula Airlines.”

- “Your seats cushions can be used for flotation; and in the event of an emergency water landing, please paddle to shore and take them with our compliments.”

- “As you exit the plane, make sure to gather all of your belongings. Anything left behind will be distributed evenly among the flight attendants.  Please do not leave children or spouses..”

- And from the pilot during his welcome message: “Kulula Airlines is pleased to announce that we have some of the best flight attendants in the industry.  Unfortunately, none of them are on this flight!”

- On Kulula flight 255 just after a very hard landing in Cape Town,  the flight attendant came on the intercom and said, “That was quite a bump and I know what y’all are thinking.  I’m here to tell you it wasn’t the airline’s fault, it wasn’t the pilot’s fault, it wasn’t the flight attendant’s fault.  It was the asphalt.”

- On a Kulula flight into Cape Town on a particularly windy and bumpy day, during the final approach the Captain really had to fight it.  After an extremely hard landing, the Flight Attendant said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to The Mother City.  Please remain in your seats with your seat belts fastened while the Captain taxis what’s left of our airplane to the gate!”

- Another flight attendant’s comment on a less than perfect landing: “We ask you to please remain seated as Captain Kangaroo bounces us to the terminal.”

- An airline pilot wrote that on this particular flight he had hammered his ship into the runway really hard.  The airline had a policy which required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, smile, and give them a “Thanks for flying our airline.”  He said that, in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment. Finally everyone had gotten off except for a little old lady walking with a cane. She said, “Sir, do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Why, no Ma’am,” said the pilot. “What is it?” The little old lady said, ”Did we land, or were we shot down?”

- After a real crusher of a landing in Johannesburg , the attendant came on with, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please remain in your seats until Captain Crash and the Crew have brought the aircraft to a screeching halt against the gate.  And, once the tire smoke has cleared and the warning bells are silenced, we will open the door and you can pick your way through the wreckage to the terminal..”

- Part of a flight attendant’s arrival announcement:  “We’d like to thank you folks for flying with us today.  And, the next time you get the insane urge to go blasting through the skies in a pressurized metal tube, we hope you’ll think of Kulula Airways.”

- Heard on a Kulula flight:  ”Ladies and gentlemen, if you wish to smoke, the smoking section on this airplane is on the wing.  If you can light ’em, you can smoke ‘em.”

Ages ago I started to ‘do’ little cartoons about two chaps called Rosencrantz and Dave. I think it’s about time they came back.

Before I post any new ones I’m going to start posting the original ones.

Sometimes they’re funny, sometimes not, depends on my mood.

Many moons ago there was a chance, well before my fathers birth, that I could have been Jewish. I don’t mean that as in “hey we’re all connected” but rather that I have a Jewish side to my family and if it wasn’t for relatives marrying outside the faith – my grandfather – I possibly could have been raised under that religion. As it was I dragged to church my Grandmother who tried to raise us the Methodist way but unlike methodists before me I never actually had my Great Awakening.

When I joined the Scout Movement as a young cub I was ordered by Akela to attend our local church on a Sunday morning. It was difficult to disobey her as she was my Auntie Carol. As hard as the Roman Catholics tried to teach me about the Stations of the Cross I just wasn’t interested, although I think that had more to do with every child in the village knowing about the vicar and his wandering hands than the God fearing stories of Lot and his tasty wife! I was an altar boy for all of two months before I just decided religion and being buggered by The Reverend Peterson weren’t for me – how things change!

At school our Religious Education lessons were based on the teachings of the Church of England and Mrs Burney, our teacher, would make us pray, sing hymns and explain to her why we thought it was funny to put badly photocopied porn into the hymn sheets. This, as far as she was concerned, meant we had a one way ticket to hell. Years later, when I’d proved I could pay attention if they’d just given a few minutes before the lessons to put ‘Hide & Heal’ on my love-bites I became her star pupil and had redeemed myself and earned my seat at God’s table. She actually said that to me. I smiled and walked out the room desperately trying not to laugh.

Intertwined with all these religious experiences, lessons and beatings were the Jewish ceremonies we attended as a family to celebrate Bar Mitzvah’s and Bat Mitzvah’s of our various cousins as well as all the different eusin and nissuin celebrations and often wishing the badeken would never end!

I was circumcised at the age of 21 – for reasons I’m not going into now – a painful experience made even more so by Uncle Carl explaining the Hatafat dam brit to me. I just had three inches of skin lopped off the end of my cock (with plenty to spare ladies gents! – wink wink) the last thing I wanted to hear about was how if I just let the mohel take a drop of blood from my bell-end I could be a proper Jew! I’d already chose a religion by this point anyway, if you can call it that, and Judaism was not it although I do own my own kippah should I ever change my mind.

Over the years I learned enough about religion to be able to make up my own mind about it and let every one else make up theirs. If someone gets some form of happiness or peace from believing in a God I don’t believe in then so be it, fair play to them. Each to their own. My nan, on her deathbed, got comfort from that fact she would be closer to God and I think this helped her pass away so peacefully. Who am I to argue with that kind of happy ending?

There’s one things I’ll say about my jewish relatives though – they know how to throw a good party!

L’chaim to that!

So Joe McElderry bravely* comes out as a gay.



I have two issues with this. One teeny tiny, one MASSIVE!



We’ll start with the teeny one.



In this day and age why is it front page headline news? It just proves that society as a whole still isn’t accepting of homosexuality. Personally I don’t care about this. I am what I am (I am my own special creation!) and if you have problems with it then it is just that – YOUR problem. I’m quite happy and I’d like to think I’m not one of those vile queens that wants to ram my sexuality down your throat – metaphorically speaking. There is far more to me than just the fact that I’m attracted to men.



So what is my big issue with the twink Judy McElderry coming out?



It’s not so much him coming out but more about the message his website puts across.



Joe herself talks about the support he’s received and the general feeling from his message is that it’s okay to be gay.

If that’s the case why are his web-masters deciding to block out the word ‘gay’ and replace with **** whenever anyone uses it by leaving Twinkle a supportive comment.



Whoever runs the website for him (and is connected to Syco Music – aka Simon Cowell) obviously doesn’t think it’s okay to be ****.



It’s just a bloody word!






*Brave? Brave my hairy fat backside! Just like Will Young before him he came out after he’d won but before the newspapers could print it! Not tonight eh? Josephine.

Mary McAleese, the current President of Ireland, signed the Civil Partnership bill today and the queers of this green isle let out a collective sigh of relief in approval as they clapped quietly and sipped a Cosmo in a Sex in and the City commemorative cocktail glass. Well, not all of them!

“This is a great day for Ireland. Lesbian and gay people, (are lesbians not gay then Mary?) their parents, families, friends, neighbours, colleagues can now look forward to celebrating their civil partnerships in the near future,” she said.

She’s right. It is a great day for Ireland and it’ll be called a first step and some people will turn and say “Hey, it’s first step and the next time we discuss we’ll go a bit further!”

Well I’m sorry but I want that next step now! Countless people have been involved in this bill being introduced just like they were in other countries and many of them have explained what’s wrong with their respective bills but fags worldwide decided that a small step is better than nothing. Sorry but to me and many others who ride on my bus it’s not.

There are many things wrong with this bill but now it’s law all the faults will be ignored as politicians shout “you got what you wanted didn’t you?!”

Lets look at the terminology. News channels, politicians and the parents of homos will be turning to their gay viewers, constituents and children and saying “you two can get married now!” No we can’t! We can sign a civil partnership agreement. To get married we’d need be different sexes. Same sex couples cannot get married so let’s not call it “gay marriage.” Anyone can have a civil partnership, but only certain people can get married – those in relationships where one of them is a girl and the other is a boy!

My partner will forever be just that. He’ll never be my husband (or wife – as he should be!) he’ll only ever be my partner. Thank you but I already have a partner.

According to certain news channels my partner can now be my next of kin. Well, he was before, the bill has changed nothing. Sadly I mean that quite literally. It’s claimed that it makes provision for partners to be acknowledged as a next of kin but in reality it changes very little. My partner already is my next of kin. I give his name whenever I’m asked that question and the person completing the form duly fills in the details. What s/he doesn’t tell you, probably because they don’t know, is that if you get taken into hospital and your next of kin has to be called it’s up to the nurse who s/he calls. There is no law stating who the nurse has to call. On this one I speak with experience! A nurse can ignore your listed next of kin and call the person s/he thinks should be called. Know who that is? Your natural mother. It’s claimed that your mother is the only person who can truly be a blood relative and therefore a next of kin as she gave birth to you.

Simon’s natural mother gets a call to say he’s in hospital and she rushes to his side. When she gets there she finds his same-sex partner, Dave, stood outside the ward as the nurse won’t let him into the private room Simon has been given due to his homosexuality (yes, that does happen!). He asks her to tell the nurses to acknowledge him as Simon’s partner, his civil partner, and he has the paper to prove it! She doesn’t like him and has never liked the fact that her son is gay so she does nothing about it. But, he has that super bit of paper that give him insane power and control of Simon’s well-being! Nope, it’s still up to the nurses. Simon is dying and his mother calls a priest to give him the last rites. Simon, since coming out, turned his back on God as ‘God hates fags’ and the idea of a priest coming to his side is awful to him and to Dave who weren’t allowed a wedding as they’re both male shit-stabbers. She still goes ahead with it and Simon gets the last rites.

Dave cannot claim the body because she gets there first, cannot organise the funeral and more than likely won’t be able to attend as the family won’t tell him where and when it is.

Some readers might think that this is an extreme case but it’s not, this happens quite often it just doesn’t get reported as news agencies don’t want to publish too many non-celebrity gay stories for fear of losing ‘normal’ readers – and yes, again, I’ve heard that phrase used.

The civil partnership bill does nothing to change this and the only time it’s actually useful as a next of kin statement is when the partner is the one registering the death.

Lets say Brad and I decide to adopt. We’ve been trying to have kids for years but I think us both being guys and doing it ‘up-the-wrongun’ has something to do with neither of us being pregnant yet. So, we adopt. Wrong. “We” don’t. One of us does. Same-sex couples can foster but not adopt. So, we talk it over and decided that I’ll adopt and give Brad parental rights by registering a letter of intent with a solicitor. Huzzah, the child has two parents and can grow up in stable environment. Tragedy strikes and I die. Brad becomes a single parent. Actually he doesn’t, he just becomes single. The letter I’ve written and the civil partnership agreement he’s waving in the face of the judge at the hearing mean fuck all and the child is taken into care and placed up for adoption. Sure Brad could adopt him or her once he’s completed the paperwork and applied but as the social worker reads the form and find he’s suddenly single due to bereavement (not a widower as you have to be a husband to be legally a widower) he’ll be deemed unable to care for a child until he’s finished grieving which, by social services standards, will take two years – once again I speak from experience!

The civil partnership bill does nothing about adoption. Nothing at all. It’s not even mentioned.

I don’t give a flying handbag that this bill has gone through and to anyone about to say “it’s a step in the right direction” well don’t bother. It’s not. It’s not because this is the beginning of the end. Politicians won’t discuss it further as they think they’ve given the queers all they want. Oh it’ll be looked at, and someone will say “should we add…” and “maybe we should change…” but then someone, probably a straight person (no offence) will say “but they can get married so lets just leave it!”

Sorry but it’s not enough. Queens have been fighting for equality and are exploding in glitter now that this bill has been signed but how does it make us equal? It doesn’t, it keeps us different! I don’t want to be different.

I’m gay and I’m also 37.
I’m gay and I’m also white.
I’m gay and I’m also deaf.
I’m gay and I have size 12 feet.
I’m gay and I have a goatee.
I’m gay and I have a bad back.
I’m gay and I have a no living grandparents.

Do you see where I’m going? Do you see how many minority groups I belong to? None of these minority groups cause me any problems so why should being gay? If you saw me at work or on the street, saw me playing rugby or drinking a coffee you wouldn’t instantly know I was a poofter and it wouldn’t make any difference yet as soon as I want to express my everlasting love for my partner who I’ve been with for eight years so far, suddenly I’m different and not equal!

When you belong to a minority, you have to be better in order to have the right to be equal.

See you in August.

Love you x

I neither know nor care who said ‘I may not agree with what you say but I will defend to the death your right to say it!’ but it’s a statement I’ve long believed in.*

Although I know I’m not alone in the sentiment it’s a shame there aren’t more people who follow it.

Twitter, to some the bane of the Internet, is home to many people who think that because they have an outlet to vent they can do so by belittling the opinions and feelings of others without fear of anything other than cyber retaliation. The web often likes to call them trolls but I think the term “arrogant cunts” (AC’s from now on) is rather more apt.

Over the last few months here have been some of my opinions I’ve had challenged on Twitter.

1. The flotilla boarded by Israelis en route to Gaza.

2. Virtually all Apple products.

3. Hashtags

4. HTC

5. The film Avatar

6. Graham Norton & Brian Dowling

7. The existence of God (or Jeff as I’m now calling him)

8. Glee

9. Terry Pratchett adaptations on Sky1

(Explanations to each are below but do not form part of the purpose of the blog entry really)

I have an opinion on each of those topics and I’m entitled to air my opinion with the understanding that it may be rightfully challenged. If I’m not prepared to have it challenged then I shouldn’t really express it.

Now when I say ‘challenged’ what I actually mean is maybe tell me why you think it’s wrong and present your argument clearly. This, of course, would be the right way to do it.

There aren’t many people on Twitter who seem to grasp this concept. The challenges (and I use that word quite loosely here) have included phrases such as “you’re a twat” and “asshole” and the ever popular “no, you are wrong!”

Okay so I’m twat sometimes and often an asshole but I admit it (unlike most of you) but rarely, when it comes to my opinion, am I wrong. This is because it is my opinion. Yes, to you it might be wrong, but to me it’s not and by telling me I’m wrong without actually explaining your reason why is an incredibly childish and stupid thing to do.

Challenge my opinion by all means, I actually welcome it, and even try to get me to change it, but telling me that it’s flat-out wrong and then insulting me about it isn’t going to get you anywhere. In fact, if you knew me at all you’d know that’s it’s very much the wrong thing to do as I’m just going to dig my heels in even more and possibly start snapping back on everything you say no matter how big or small.

If you don’t agree with what I’ve said then say “I disagree, I think [insert your opinion]” and we can discuss it. Doing anything else just makes you a cunt. An arrogant cunt. An AC!

Now, in saying all that, I freely admit to being a cunt. If you look at my Twitter profile it actually says it in there. As such, until people start being a bit nicer when expressing their disagreement with one of my opinions I’m afraid you will get told you are wrong… in everything.

I’d like to say something inspirational along the lines of “be the change” but I know damn well it won’t happen. Most of you will still be cunts, just like me.

*I’ve since googled it and know who it as now.

Now, as I said above, here’s my opinion on the subjects mentioned above. Please feel free to challenge me on it in comments here but do so politely.

1. The flotilla boarded by Israelis en route to Gaza.

Didn’t enjoy Hogfather, that was all! Love the Discworld books, very much in fact, just wasn’t a fan of the Hogfather

As some of you know my birthday present this year was this lovely camera.

Not a good image but it was taken on an iPhone 3G and not the camera pictured!

Well I just thought I’d share some of the first few piccies take with it. Future pictures will be available by clicking on the big red ball to the right (the one with iSee written on it!) and there are images up there now. If you can’t see a ball then the link you need is isee.iamlanders.co.uk

Anyway, here ya go..

[View with PicLens]

Picture Key: (Left to right)
Row 1 – View from the front door – Eddie (front) & Hillie (back) – Driveway – House
Row 2 – Our house – Loughrea – Loughrea – Loughrea
Row 3 – Loughrea – Huw – Max – Eddie
Row 4 – Kitchen (& shirtless Brad!) – Work at night – Work at night – Work at Dawn (same as 2nd pic)

I saw this a while ago but didn’t watch all of it as I wasn’t in the mood then yesterday I found it on a friends blog!

Such a good short film. I wish I did shorts of this quality. Very moving – you have been warned!

Airports have always been filled with enjoyment for me. This is mainly due to my love of planes but todays airport experience has been like no other. I am, of course, ignoring my last two cancelled flights which were not enjoyable experiences! Especially given that I’d been at the airport for an hour and half the first time and thirty bleedin’ seconds the second time! One extreme to the other!



Today has shown me though that even the trip from the long stay car park (red for those of you interested) to the airport itself can also be a source of great amusement.



As I step on the bus I can hear footsteps racing along the gravel and a woman shouting “wait for us!” Which the driver, as is his want, duly ignores, closes the doors and heads off. There’s a general sigh of disappointment from some of the passengers, a titter from the man to my left and a small evil smile across my face. I might have actually joined in the sighing if it wasn’t for the fact that there was another bus parked right behind us just waiting for passengers.



Thanks to an accident right outside the main terminal entrance the bus has to stop for longer than normal while the Gardai debate who is going to move the vehicles and how. This gives the young mother next to me time to invite a conversation.



“Where you off to?” she asks.
“Birmingham,” I reply.
“I thought so,” she said, “I could tell from the accent.”



I can’t help but be amused by this as firstly I have no accent to speak of* and secondly my reply of ‘Birmingham’ was the very first time I’d spoke since getting on the bus. In fact, it’s the first thing I’ve said out loud since 7am when I said goodbye to Brad who grunted, rolled over and went back to sleep! I got more response saying goodbye to the dogs!



She appears to sense my confusion and amusement but decides to carry on talking.



“We’re off to Gatwick,” she continues thinking that I actually care.
“Oh. That’s nice.”
“Do you know they won’t carry buggies into Heathrow?”
“What?”
“Baby buggies. No airline flying into Heathrow will carry them!”
“That can’t be right.”
“No it is. I tried to book. Heathrow would be better for me so I rang the airport and they told me no airline, absolutely none, will carry a baby buggy.”
“But it’ll go in the hold.”
“Well they said no.”
“Did you ask about it going in the hold or actually on the plane with you?”
“Both.”



It’s at this point I realise I’m actually involved in this conversation and really don’t want to be. People may think I’m travelling with her! To make matters worse she then shuffles to the edge of her seat and hangs half on the chair and half into the aisle and hollers to the driver ‘are we gonna be much longer?’ to which he shouts back something about him not being able to help it and she should be sat properly. As she sits back we start moving again which start her baby off so it gets the attention rather thank me! Thank you Jeff!



Departing the bus I make my way into the terminal but get stuck behind a old lady trying to get on the travelling walkway. “Oh mom I wish you’d just taken the lift,” says her daughter.
“I can manage Janice,” she replies, “I can manage.”



The queue behind me proves she may be able to manage but the time taken would probably be better used by taking the lift.



Finally I get into the terminal and head for the shorter queue for security. Thankfully my choice is the right one – for once – and we speed through.



The hive of people around security is amazing and I purposely take my time putting my coat back on and repacking the guns and drugs so I can hear what’s going on.



One woman is having a miniature fit because she’s being told by security that they’d like to look at her umbrella in her bag.



“It’s only a brolly!” she sputters.
“Can you just take it out please madam,” says the security woman quite politely.
“If you want to look at it you take it out!”
“Do I have you permission?”
“Of course!” slams the woman.



At this point another security members joins her and just stands there saying nothing. She has the look of fire in her eyes and I can already see her reaching into her pocket for her black leather rapist gloves.



Behind me there is more commotion, again from a woman who is questioning the parentage of one of the security team as he young son stands by her slowly pushing Skittles into his pants.



Finally my things are packed away and I have a quick pokey around the shops.



I get accosted by a woman who should have retired thirty years ago as she asks me if I’d like to try the new Hugo Boss fragrance. I see the bottle she’s holding and point out that the particular fragrance she’s holding is at least ten years old so hardly new.



“You know fragrances?” she asks.
“It’s a gay thing!” I say as I wink and walk off.



Why the fuck did I wink? What was that all about? Suddenly it’s 1982 and I’m Tom Selleck!



Not able to find a suitable watch shop I head to the gate to get a coffee and write this blog entry.



As I sit here with my headphones in I’ve come to realise that the volume may be a little too loud as there is a child stood next to my table joining me in a small dance to Whitney Houston and Million Dollar Bill. I think I can be forgiven though being a big gay deaf. What I can’t be forgiven for is what came next which I’ll explain in a later.



Anyway, enough typing. My flight leaves in an hour so it’s time to go and stand at the very front of the queue and demand to be privately escorted to the plane and given my special seat at the front usually only reserved for the pilot and his mate.



*I do not sound like Frank Skinner and Julian Carey’s bastard child as was once described.