Landers

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.

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

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!

I was six when I first met him. He was five. It almost sounds like Nancy Sinatra should be singing about that and something to do with horses and sticks.

I’m not really too sure what to write. I feel as though I should be writing some long essay dedicated to him and all that he was but I just don’t think I can. I think the most I can say is that throughout the thirty years I knew him we clashed, we cried, we hugged, we laughed, we lost contact and we reconnected. Above all else we were friends and I loved him.

One year on and just looking at pictures of him still brings me to tears.

Such an incredible and terrible loss. So young, too young!

Sleep well Ash.  I miss you.  I love you x

To hear your voice and see you smile,
To sit and talk to you a while,
To be together in the same old way.
Would be my dearest wish today.

Ashley
4th July 1974 – 20th May 2009

Trying to explain to my father how I know some people is often a struggle. Even more so when it’s people I’ve met off of the internet.

My friend Sam and I trained together at university but you can guarantee if I say to my dad “I’m seeing Sam tomorrow,” he’ll say “who’s Sam and where did you meet him?” When I point out who Sam is or if dad see’s her he remembers her instantly. Sadly he remember her by saying “Oh yeah, the blonde with the big moggies!” Moggies was my nan’s word for boobies!

If I say to him “I spoke to Dave last night,” he replies with “Which one is Dave again?” and the conversation continues along the lines of meeting Dave while working for a radio station but this itself brings more questions as he tries to work out which station it was and which Dave I’m talking about.

So I try to be very careful when explaining to him who I’ve been speaking to so as to try and limit the questions I’ll get asked so that I can actually get to the point of the conversation. If he asks too many questions I forget why I’m telling him I spoke to them in the first place!

You can imagine then the problems I have when trying to explain about the friends I’ve met off of the internet.

Trying to explain that I’m meeting up with people from a social networking site or a forum is incredibly difficult as he wants to know exactly how I got to know these people.

This though is the nature of friendships now. With the world getting smaller via the internet and friendships being made on an international level, having friends we’ve never met is something we’re going to have to get used to.

There are people I’ve met up with after meeting them through blogging or social forums that I’d now consider some of my closest friends. I’d go so far as to say I love them. In the same light there are some I haven’t met for real, only online, but I feel just as strongly for them as well.

My first real experience of this was using an AOL chat room. I got chatting to a girl called Adele. Adele Clee or ASClee as her screenname said. We would chat in the room or in an IM for hours about all sorts of rubbish. She told me all about the guy she was marrying and I told her all about my current beau and we compared notes and exchanged pictures. Strangely enough we never exchanged pictures of each other, just of our partners!

One Thursday night she told me she wouldn’t be about for a month or so but would email me. This was because she was getting married on Saturday and then off on her honey moon. She told me where she was getting married and I said I only lived round the corner. A small lie as it was at least a thirty minute drive away but I knew the area she was on about.

Then, totally out of the blue, she invited me and my other had to her wedding! A person I’d never met was now inviting me to her wedding! This was all very strange given that I didn’t know what she looked like. I didn’t accept outright but said I’d chat with Nick and see what we were doing. She understood.

So that night I explained to Nick about the wedding. He already knew who Adele was and had spoken to her a couple of times online himself. We talked about the idea of it and in the end decided to go.

As fate would have it traffic conspired against us and we arrived at the church more than halfway through the ceremony with a rapidly purchased gift in hand. The whole issue of a gift had bought more questions! How much do you spend on someone you’ve never met?

We decided not to go in and instead waited for them to come out. When they did we just stood in the corner of the church yard and waited until most people had said their congratulations.

Walking up to the bride I suddenly realised that I could actually be at the wrong church. Keep in mind I had no idea what she looked like, or her new husband or any of the guest and she didn’t know me either. It was the summer and most churches would have a wedding on the Saturday. This could be anybody!

Hesitantly I approached with a smile, caught her eye and just said “Adele?” She nodded and replied “Landers?” (and yes, she actually did as my screenname was my nickname which is the same as it is now!).

We hugged, chatted and explained, in truth, how we couldn’t actually stay long as Nick had been called in to work that afternoon.

After some pictures and champagne and strawberries on the village green we said our goodbyes and left.

I never spoke to her again in any form of communication and I couldn’t tell you why.

That same year I went to my first “meet” in a hotel in Blackpool where I ended up being the entertainment (a whole other blog entry) and meeting people I still chat with and care for very much. People who up until six months before the meet I couldn’t tell you anything about.

With the introduction of Facebook, Twitter, linkedin, Last.fm, blip and all the other micro-blogging or social networking sites my circle of friends has grown bigger and bigger and I’d say I was lucky if I’d met 10% of the people I chat to on a regular basis. People I call friends.

I wonder how long it will be before people are only making friends with those they’ve never met? Although it makes for an incredible international community I also think it’s quite sad future, if that’s how it’s going to pan out. I hope it’s not something I’m a part of but I know, as I sit here and write a blog entry I’m going to tweet about, that I’m helping to make the world smaller and friendship that little bit more impersonal.

There at times, believe it or not, when I’m away from my laptop. Such as during my course yesterday, if I’m on days at work or when I’m asleep. Taking that into account you can see that more often than not my laptop is either on my lap or in front of me somehow, or at the very least accessible by a walk through the mansion into another room.



Why then, with this being the case, is it that I think of so many things to blog about when I do not have the laptop? Also, why do I not make a note of these things I want to to blog about?! I’ve always got my iPhone with me, I can make notes on that but I don’t! Man, I’ve ever written blog entries on it!



With this in my I’m going to endeavour to be a better blogger. I used to love blogging, still do actually, I’ve just fallen out of the habit of writing things.



Part of me blames my lack of blogging on my old blog site. I used to use a generic blogging site, not as well known as Blogger or WordPress but still quite good. Sadly the site went downhill when certain trolls joined and when certain people I considered to be friends (some I’d met in real life and got close to) became cunts I couldn’t trust. That was the main reason for sorting out my own hosted site on my own space. At least this way I can block users, IP addresses etc. I can also post ANYTHING I like whereas the other site blocked certain things. Fuck ‘em, this is better.



So in conclusion (how very official of me!) I hereby promise to become a better blogger! So much so that I may just go and post the original blog entry on the other site, telling some of the other users what I think of them! Of course, then again, I may not.

Well look at that! I’ve been away quite a while haven’t I?

Sorry. Not sure why I haven’t been around. What’s worse is that I’m not sure I care.

I guess other things in my life have taken over, maybe become more important.

As those of you who read Brad’s blog will know we’ve had some sad times recently with the loss of Jesse, Helen & MJ’s gorgeous black lab. She was only two years old and it was quite difficult to deal with. There really was no point me trying to put on a brave face because when it comes to death, especially the death of beloved animal, my brave face involves lots of crying, snot and a conversation that makes no sense in structure or sound.

I was apart from the man on Valentines day but he did me a lovely video and I’d hidden a card for him by the Love Actually DVD in our collection. We don’t buy for each other. We did the first year but haven’t since then. It was horrible being away from him on that day. I know essentially it’s just another day but I’ve always liked the fact that we’ve been together for all of them. Now that record is a little tarnished. I didn’t really have much choice though as I had to go to the UK to collect a car. A Vauxhall Vectra. It’s nice enough but I’ll only be keeping it for a few months. I really can’t be bothered going in to the why’s etc.

In other news we move house one week tomorrow. We decided that our three bedroom house really was too big for just the two of us, even if it was extremely useful when the in-laws all come over. So we decided to down-size… to a MASSIVE five bedroom mansion! My dad told me we should go for a small three up-two down place. Well we have. There are three bedrooms upstairs and two downstairs. We have four damn toilets! Only three of the toilets actually work, as I found out to my horror after I’d taken a dump in the faulty one!

Once we’re in there properly, with all our furniture, I’ll post a little video of the house, MTV Cribs-esque, so you can see it. For those of you that haven’t seen the house we’re in now you have seven days before the furniture is gone but you have until the 28th March before we give the keys back.

I’m sure I have other news but right now I need to go and get a coffee. I’ve been awake since 5.30am which is my own fault as I got drunk yesterday afternoon and was in bed by…. erm… actually I don’t know what time I was in bed. I remember Brad talking about going to bed to watch a film but I don’t actually remember getting into bed or even watching anything on the television, let alone a film. So, although the head isn’t as bad as it should be, I do desperately want a coffee.

P.S. While we move I’m off the diet but in four weeks I lost 2st 3lb. Go me!

It’s good when actors can laugh at themselves. I’ve been in a number amateur and professional theatre groups and I’ve loved every minute of it. Sadly in any amateur group there is always a couple prima donnas who think they not only deserve the leading roles but should have also have a dressing room of their own, often with a star attached. These are the ones, male and female, who get angry if someone cocks up during a rehearsal. If someone makes a mistake, forgets a line or laughs at an inopportune moment they are tutting and mumbling about who should have got the part. Of course when they forget a line or make a mistake it’s the pressure of the role darling!

During a rehearsal for a performance of ‘An Inspector Calls’ in which I was playing Gerald Croft my on-stage fiancée, Shelia Birling, had the following line “He knows you know! And I hate to think what else he knows that we don’t know he knows yet!” She found this hysterical and would begin to giggle every time she said it. Nothing could stop her! Janet, the lady playing the Birlings maid, a role she didn’t want but took anyway, was furious! At one point, as the line approached, backstage we all heard her mutter in a stage whisper louder than her own stage voice “Do you think she’ll fuck it up this time!” Well we never actually got to the line at that point because Ann (Mrs Bilring), Terry (Mr. Birling), Jayne (Shelia Birling), Simon (Eric Birling) and myself fell about laughing. Of course this didn’t go down well so we took a break and came back to it later.

Thankfully most of the gags, gaffs, goofs and corpsing took place during rehearsals and once it was out of our system then the actual performances usually went on without a hitch. Unfortunately An Inspector Calls must have been cursed.

The set had been built to resemble a typical wealthy family dining room in 1912 and our set builders we’re fantastic at designing and building sets so it look extremely realistic. Leading from backstage into the dining room were a pair of huge doors which the director had insisted were both opened when we entered the room. This was fine other than once we’d let go of the doors they slammed shut and made the whole set wobble. Mr. Director wasn’t happy about this so David was ordered to find a successful way of making the doors shut quickly, without banging, without using anything that wouldn’t have been available in 1912. In the end it was decided that as we stepped through the door we should turn, grab the door handles, and close the door firmly but gently.

Cue opening night. Ann, as Mrs Birling, flings open the doors and storms in to give her line. As she turns and grabs the door handles they both come off in her hand! I’m stood getting a drink at the time (flat ginger ale as whisky) so I turn my back to audience and try not to piss myself. Jayne pretends to wipe her mouth with a serviette. The others look around wondering what she’s going to do. She calmly and strongly walks across the stages, slams the handles on the dining table and says “Arthur I’m sick of telling you to sort these bloody door handles out!” turning to me she continues, “Gerald maybe you could do it at some point as I can’t trust that drunk of a son of mine!” She then gave the line she’d actually come in to for.

Only certain members of the audience actually realised what had happened and there was a small titter racing from the front to the back and that would have been the end of it. If it wasn’t for Jayne! A very few short minutes later she picked up one of the door handles, thinking it was a salt shaker. Not knowing what to do she just shook it over her dinner, tutted and exclaimed it to be empty, slammed it on the table and carried on as normal.

During the interval Janet reprimanded us all for our on-stage conduct even though we all thought we’d done quite well. Ann got a round of applause and lots of “well done’s” and the director appeared pleased with how things had gone so far although we could see him chomping at the bit with David on stage behind the curtain trying to reattach the door handles.

Now with theatre the sad thing is that these bloopers often don’t get caught on tape. You only have the image I’ve created to get an idea of the mistakes made and how funny they are (well I think they are). Although you can still make your own mind up you can’t see it or see how funny I think it is. You can’t rewind to the funniest bits or skip the rubbish.

Thankfully, with film, you can capture those moments that make you giggle. In celebration of that (and the main reason for this post in the first place) here is something I was sent this morning that I find quite funny.

On Wednesday we we’re back in Wales for the wedding of some close friends of ours. The friends are the dirty lesbians so it wasn’t a proper wedding it was one of them there civil partnerships those disgusting queer people go through! Personally I don’t think it should be allowed and I totally agree with what someone once said to me which was “all gays should be stuck on an island and left to bum themselves to death!” Well I’m in!

So the wedding was lovely. Both Vicky and Denise looked radiant and so happy! The registrar made the event go with ease and was very accommodating and as it was only a small family affair once the ceremony were over with we all went back to the girls to enjoy drinks and enough food to feed the five thousand.

Of course with these being our friends that breed labradors, bassets and Rottweilers then the obligatory moment with a puppy came later on in the evening.

Here’s a few snapshots of the day and a puppy video to coo over.