THE guide to Scotland's lesbian, gay and bisexual scene. Gossip and news and wibble from all over the country. Places to go, parties to crash, and people to meet in the humungous Meet Market.
Pic: Leandre Ribera, Gilded Balloon
Scottish Media Monitor - the sexually repressed
Granny Spice - greetings from Holland
Bump Yer Gums - good After Pride glow
Glaschu - the genuine article
Dun Eideann - gorgeous babes invasion
Inbhir Nis - pansy pics
Dun-Dèagh - inducing harm
Moireibh - comfortable shoes?
Obair Dheadhain - picture of health
Boxes - the Meet Market!
Venues - what and where
How blind can journalists be on the subject of sexual behaviour? Doug Archibald plumbed new depths in the Dumfries & Galloway Standard. The paper declared: "Police crack down on... GAY SEX IN PARK LOOS" after finding a toilet in Castledykes Park that "has become a nationally known meeting place for perverts." Don't rate yourselves too highly, Dumfries! And you would have thought anyone with a modicum of education knows that "males from the 'cottaging' fraternity (men who hang about toilets to commit indecent acts with each other)" - his words, not mine - can't all be 'perverts.' The Neanderthal Archibald rolled personal opinion over his report like a coat of emulsion. "Indecent acts take place on a daily basis in the 'repugnant' gents' toilets..." Homophobic councillor Tom Holmes - always relied upon to give an opinion on a subject so close to his heart - found a man who had taken his two-year-old granddaughter into the toilet. He had got onto Holmes after he had become aware two men were occupying the same cubicle. Holmes got the police to carry out "a survey" over the next four weeks. Rumour circulated of a yellow van with mirrored windows parked near the gay cruising area after twenty men were "spoken to and one... reported to the Procurator Fiscal." The Dumfries & Galloway Standard gushed with emotion: "Castledykes is described as one of the most picturesque parks in south west Scotland because of its children's adventure playground..."
Then, police swooped on gay men at Prestwick Beach. One man spent the night in police cells and was led handcuffed to court. According to the Helensburgh Advertiser, police launched a "five day operation" in response to "complaints" from "worried parents" and rounded up 17 men. Inevitably, there was a real victim, lost in the text of the story: "24 hours after his arrest, one of the men, Balloch farmer William Rennie, was found dead in a loch." He was 57. As a result, more gay and bisexual men, isolated in areas of virulent heterosexism have now been made aware of places where gay men meet at "Helensburgh's Kidston Park... toilets near Duck Bay Marina and... East End public toilets in Balloch." With more swoops, the local paper was gleefully reporting 40 arrests! Welcome back to the fifties.
Do you remember the days when gays thought twice about approaching the police? "You shamed our boys, you shamed our club," bawled the Scottish Sun on a "gay video lawyer..." who did just that. For some obscure reason, after "balding bachelor Danskin - who lives with his mum" had the audacity to watch an erotic gay film being made in his office, he was "booted out as a Boys' Brigade leader and told to quit as chairman of (East Fife) soccer club." It was open day for the sexually repressed tabloids. The Scottish Sun quoted a "dad" who "immediately" stopped his son going to the Boys' Brigade saying, "I just don't trust Mr Danskin at all now. He can no longer be trusted with children." (The poor wean was 15, by the way)! The Daily Record pictured peroxide mum - one of the many who had "queued up to condemn Julian Danskin" - hugging her son, and went on to berate the Law Society which "refused to take action." A young man, just back from Benidorm revealed to the Daily Record the true extent of Julian's 'perverted' interest in children. It made sickening reading: "He told how the bachelor wakened boys on camps by tickling their toes." The lad claimed: "Every morning he would walk into a room and shout - 'Get up.'" And worse: "The youngster also said Danskin demanded a breath test on boys as a way of checking if they had been drinking. 'If you were over the limit he grounded you.'" Truly, the mark of a crazed sleazeball, and to cap it all: "...His favourite phrase when he was annoyed was to call you a 'friggin' prat'." Others felt sufficiently "uneasy" about his disgusting behaviour that they either left or were withdrawn by parents from the Boys' Brigade. HELLO? What everyone seems to have forgotten - including the judge - was that this was about a man who had been blackmailed by two thugs who stole the video from his office. More shocking was High Court judge, John Wheatley's prejudiced remarks: "Even on the most charitable view, there is something very unsatisfactory and unwholesome about Mr Danskin which lies at the heart of this case." And, to the two men convicted of blackmailing Julian: "It is possible you have very little regard and respect for a solicitor who involves himself in the making of this type of video tape and purports to hide behind the pretence of professional confidentiality." In actual fact, Julian wanted to protect the identity of the two guys in the erotic video. The Daily Record thought this an appropriate moment to share a joke from a local barman: "The wisecrack has Danskin discussing which video to rent for a quiet night in. His mother says, 'Why don't we get Aladdin?' and Danskin replies, 'For goodness sake mother, I'm in enough trouble already.'" Following reports from a spokesman for Fife police the Daily Record suggested "disgraced Danskin also faces a police investigation over his part in the making of the sleazy video." Oh, no! Not another Bolton Seven! The Daily Record called it "a kind of justice" and asked: "Have YOU seen Julian Danskin? If so, call the Daily Record immediately on 0141-242 3252." Get out your Doris Day records. This is the Scottish Media Monitor's 'fifties' issue!
To celebrate this nostalgic mood, leafing through a copy of The Daily Express Home Management Book by Margaret Garth of the Edinburgh School of Domestic Engineering, the Scottish Daily Express found "innocent times." When they "could publish a front-page advert reading 'Camp Coffee is simply made for men' without anyone sniggering... Days when gay meant happy and camp was for boy scouts."
So the hysteria goes on. Teachers are advised not to rub sunscreen into pupils and the Daily Record reported mum, Margaret Ross slashing her two children with a Stanley knife, scarring them for life, believing them "better off dead than living in a world full of child-sex abusers." The offence occurred "just hours after watching... Nightmare on Elm Street." You can swallow that if you like. How about Nightmare on Anderston Quay? Is it not the Daily Record that has contributed through the repression of all things sexual to sex pathology, crime and vigilantism in Scotland?
The Daily Record wanted to point out to men the harmful effects of smoking. An illustration of a naked man must have caused a bit of a stir having to indicate a certain area that can be affected by a drop in the sperm count. Under the heading "penis" the arrow pointed to a big green blob and spared any of us any embarrassment.
Simon Gage and what he achieved, as editor of Boyz was something of a phenomenon in journalistic terms. Now The Express have made him deputy show-business editor. (Deputy Showgirl, she tells me. Sends his regards, by the way)! But why not make him editor of its sister paper, The Star? Imagine it. The Star: a liberal tabloid, no longer treating its readers like half-wits and sexual prudes. Bet Uncle Percy - The Daily Star in Scotland's agony uncle - will be the first to feel the tip of our Sime's ten-holed Dr Martin's! Uncle Percy makes the Daily Record's Old Mother Burnie look like she knows what she's talking about! "I'm in deep doo-doo, Uncle Percy. Can you recommend a cure for Aids?" This is signed: "Julian Fist, Pansy Cottage, Sodham." This journalist - although the word 'wanker' immediately springs to mind - replies: "You must eat prunes, Julian. Prunes, prunes, prunes. Eat them for breakfast. Eat them for lunch. Eat them for dinner. Eat nothing else. They won't cure you of Aids, but they'll sure teach you what your back passage is meant to be used for." I also advise against talking out of it, Uncle Percy.
After her attempted suicide, Lorna Frame in the Daily Record decided Paula Yates' "life of risk and danger (had) finally caught up on her," adding that her "sexual history is decidedly distasteful. She boasted that she had oral sex with Bob Geldorf in the back of a taxi" and, as if she were likely to have dropped it all for a mock Tudor semi in Newton Mearns, added smugly "she was never going to live a stable, suburban life."
Our Daniela (This Life) "Nude-Ini" was admonished for being a "pawn in a highly competitive ratings war." She bared her tits in the first episode of Big Women and the Sunday Mail was not amused! "There are scenes of nudity in the opening episode of this so-called feminist drama that would make Emperor Caligula blush..." it sniffed. "Stephie walks out of her house naked - abandoing (sic) her children - to become a lesbian... Restraint has gone out of the window." Of The Tribe on BBC 2, "their publicity bumph dubbed it a 'dark and erotic film' - a convenient metaphor for soft porn." The Sunday Mail dragged a frail Mary Whitehouse out of retirement and tried to convince us that "at 88, she is still as active as ever in her chosen role as a TV obscenity watchdog." But the old boiler just mumbled something about: "If I had to choose between tennis... and drama, I'd choose tennis."
But for sex-repression, Scottish editions of the News of the World are out to outdo its rivals, announcing: "Zoo dirty perverts!" (Geddit?) Alongside a picture of "family fun..." (Kiddies being lifted up by their parents to see the animals at Edinburgh Zoo). Readers are warned "fiends shoot filth next to kiddies... under the noses of innocent bairns" Whilst filming one of Curran and McDowall's 'Sex in Public Places' erotic videos, they "shamelessly" used an ice cream van at Edinburgh zoo "as the backdrop for the tawdry tape... Members of the public (are) unaware their faces are now familiar to perverts throughout Europe." (That must apply to the majority of News of the World readers who no doubt have seen and enjoyed an erotic video or two in the time). The News of the World staged the usual line-up! You could smell the roses growing up around the cottage door of Tory councillor, Moira Knox who opined: "Appalling... Absolutely disgraceful. To think that this has been done in the same place where those lovely little smiling faces see the penguins walk." Sexfinder General Father Tom Connelly growled: "Outrageous... From what I have been told it is clearly absolutely shocking." And Amanda Alabaster, zoo spokesman (sic) added: "I am distressed and shocked." Oh, get a grip, woman!
It's not hard to see who the tabloid's greatest allies are in the repression of sex. It is, of course, the Church. "Sin!" Frothed the Sunday Mail with religious fervour over the making of a new game show starring Julian Clary. In a "sordid expose" they admonished "TV's latest seedy attempt to win the ratings war with a sinful, sex-and-sand game show" which they claimed went "to the very edge of decency and suggestiveness." And worse was to come! "One of the contestants in Prickly Heat is former Glasgow hooker Yvonne Hay... During the day she played rude games like slipping grapes into other contestants' cossies... and squeezing out the juice. Or, even more disgustingly, running a relay that meant stuffing lard into the others' bikini bottoms... It begs the question how TV's controls could be so lax as to allow vice girls to participate. Or indeed, why anyone should fail to see that a seedy show like this will attract professional sex girls." (I love it! Isn't this tabloid a scream)? Making a real arse of itself, the Sunday Mail went on to declare Julian's programme had finally pushed TV over the edge.
Scottish editions of The News of the World tightened the collar of restraint to shake their fists from Murdoch's pulpit in Kinning Park, bellowing: "We get filthy porn magazines taken off shelves... Children have been exposed... Now - after action by your campaigning News of the World - the filth has been banned from the shelves. Disturbingly, the explicit sex mags were in the Sauchiehall Street branch of Alldays, the national convenience store chain used by families." I had to pinch myself. Had I picked up The War Cry by mistake? "In an attempt to comply with decency laws, some parts of the male and female anatomies had been inked over with a black marker pen. But a number of pages had been completely missed." Instead of laughing off such utter tripe, Alldays are "holding an inquiry" and Strathclyde police "will be looking into the matter."
This begs the question: Just what is the media's problem? The Daily Record's resident queerbasher-in-a-dickey-bow, Tom Brown thinks he knows. "Half the world's troubles" are "caused by sex."
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© Garry Otton 1998
Well at least the sun is shining here! After cleansing out my sin in a steamy Thermos sauna on Raamstraat (think of the alliteration girls RAAM!) - cleaned out my dental dam and massaged my gums and arse with Bongela, I've retired to the gentle dunes of Zandvoort, not for the motor racing but the pursuit of nookie and frolics in the sand. Condoms and the obligatory KY packed in my picnic basket I set off to explore the dunes!
My beach towel wrapped de rigeur as a sarong and headtowel suitably draped to protect your mother from the sun's burning rays, I hardly marched 100 metres into the scrub and dunes before being accosted by a dishy hunk who turned out to be not Dutch but Latvian called Mirko - the chat was minimalist (as were his briefs), ooh - thank God for the collapse of Eastern European Communism!
We exchanged everything except body fluids and my pussy was throbbing as I bid him good byee and headed further into the brush... needless to say my address Database on my little hand-held computer continued to grow and grow as new records were added this afternoon!
At one point a dear little dutchman pointed out the unused war bunkers and said the Germanic architecture reminded one of a TANK - (I thought immediately of course of dear Dawn Davenport - and how closely she resembled these edifices!) in fact Dawn dearest I couldn't make up my mind whether Henry Moore's figures or these bulky concrete bunkers were a better representation of your dearself!
I hurried back to town on the fast train to Amsterdam - only a commuting distance really to the beach - and douched the pussy and prepared the face for Amsterdam's exotic nightlife! Firstly with the Wean in hand alighted at Cafe April, simply the place to be seen in Amsterdam!
Early evening and the bar was already busy, very upmarket and slightly less pretentious than the Polo Lounge, the doormen here being less discriminatory at the sight of a frock, and definitely better educated/mannered and personable, being most welcoming to TV's who didn't have to grovel to gain entry! How nice to meet doormen who just do their job for a change, rather than those in that Glasgow establishment who seem to set themselves up as the arbiters of good taste - which I have always found amusing since most of them behave as if they were dragged up in some housing scheme!
I've watched Gay establishments come and go for many years, including some of the most successful in economic terms, however, the surest thing to kill any Gay venue is for employers to engage "power freaks" who treat the Gay community like shit and clearly favour only their shitty arse crawling favourites!
Gay men and women constantly complain to me about being treated badly by staff whose egos are gross and who seem to go crazy when put behind a bar, or on the door of a Poof Palace!
You don't have to put up with this crap, nor Ego-trip employees - and of course you can vote with your feet and pink pound! - If you're treated badly complain loudly in the Gay Press, not all magazines are so intimidated by the thought of losing advertising that they won't print your letters! Certainly not this one! Alas, I digress...
A pleasant evening was spent in the company various nationalities, Dutch, German, French, Italian, Indonesians et al. How singularly pleasant, English being mostly the common language and well spoken by all. After this we retired to the IT club. A fantastic Disco which puts everything here into the shade, a great mixture of young through middle aged (thank God!) Poseurs, freaky dancers, mad beautiful Dutch boys, Gay, straight and Tri-sexual.
The air was heady with "weedy" substances, (not very good for the asthmatic! However, the matter-of-fact approach to everything ensured a grand evening was had by all. Such tolerance and friendliness to all cultures and sexualities is a lesson we could sorely learn here! But then the Dutch have a history of tolerance that goes back centuries and we have much to learn! (Ulster readers please note!)
One retired to bed (actually it was three!) - fun and more games and fucked and fagged out quel menage! The next morning we went to the flower market, fantastic blooms (especially those in white trousers selling their wares!) - why is it that men with huge dicks like to display in tight white denim or cotton?
Onwards to the Flea Market in Waterlooplein - a den of mystery varying from good buy antiques to downright Paddie's Market sleaze! Got a nice black coat though, three quarter length swingback a steal at 10 guilders... with label!
What was most amusing was the open air sale of PORN videos at knockdown ridiculous prices - as low is £2.50 for 3 hours! - not to mention picture books openly showing every variation of sexuality which the locals seemed to ignore completely in favour of heavier tomes! The Dutch are avid readers (in several languages) and can't seem to resist bookstalls of a more serious nature! Check these for handsome intellectual trade!
Thereafter retired to a less salubrious establishment "Blue Boys" where everything was on sale and available at a price - all conducted with the best possible taste! As the good journalist would say "services were declined" and we took our leave!
We noticed that Pardenstraat in particular was the hunting ground of rentboys - but many of them looked as if they were "Smacked out" in the non punitive sense! - However, if that's your thing it is certainly available A.Y.O.R. A lady in the know informed me that many East European young boys are supplementing their Dutch and English language classes this way! Prostitution is tolerated but not necessarily approved of despite what you might think! But the native Amsterdammer is loud and vocal anyway compared the rest of sedate Holland and frankly doesn't give a fuck!
A day trip to the Hague and a cultural tour that made my head spin ended my 3-day visit. Infinitely worth it as ever. The Hague is much more gracious and smaller than Amsterdam - quite snobby really for a Dutch city - but this is certainly also due to the large number of foreigners/Diplomats etc living there. The strong pound makes Holland much less expensive than in previous visits and money stretches further for everything! The Gay scene is less vibrant in the Hague, but I feel friends made here will be remembered and last longer than those encountered in the swirl of Amsterdam. People were "Hezellig" (Cosy/friendly/Open)... a good word to remember.
Next morning back to Schipol for the flight back to Glasgow. Had Interesting encounter with an airport uniformed porter (in a Staff Loo), which ensured my "ring" was warmed for its seat on the plane back to Glasgow (Oh those men in uniform - any bloody uniform!).
The Trolley Dollies on the plane looked like Lady Hamilton and Des from the Court Bar - the Wean was convinced that these two must be moonlighting! Same frocks, makeup etc., dead ringers really girls!
Touchdown Glasgow and ripoff cab back to town - I knew we were home!
When is this country going to learn how to really welcome the tourist? We were in the company of 2 Germans who shared our taxi. The conversation took place mostly in German and obviously the driver assumed we were all "Johnny Foreigner" ... Our German friends graciously offered to pay for the taxi as we were putting them up for the night - but what a disappointment to discover they had been ripped off when they brought their bags up to the apartment! Welcome Home Granny...
Gordon's off to York for a taste of the Far East - I' ll explain that one in the next issue - something to do with chickens and lemon grass......
I'm now firmly ensconced in Edinburgh and travelling to Glasgow only to work - To those of you out here chasing the sun (anyone's SON!) have nice holidays!
Love and Safe Fucks,
Beti, Granny Spice
To all my boyz & girlz & thanks for all the letters of praise, concern, abuse, general bitch, scribble or whatever. To each & everyone of you who took the time, it was fun to say the least to read through some of your more unprintable thoughts. Within these walls (no dig there Barby Boy) & columns I shall reveal just how mad & crazy you are & how unstable a few of you are & how very much alike you are with regards to the depraved things you would like to do to & with me "dream on" is what Missy says!! It is nice to know that other things were taking place while Pride was going through it's hectic motions including a pre-post Pride event in Miss Hutton's Mansion. A blow by blow account of Gay Glasgow & it's naughty going ON's.
But first shame came to The Poo in the shape of the so called "trannie" Dana International. How dare she cancel her 25 minute appointment, she will live to regret that because I had bought a new blouse & had brought my good girl Lady Lucy all the way from Edinbugger to watch her mime. After all no one can mime like a drag queen on a full charge. Well done my dear on fucking up your promising, fast disappearing reputation with Missy. I for one won't be going to see you at Auntie B's. I'm sure she will be forgotten by then.
So onto who would like to, who dreams of it, who thinks about it & the one who boasts to have done it? <TO ME> To Craig from Dunoon, you my darling going by your lovely pose can do it to me any time you think you are man enough as well as Frank from Paisley (no pic to prove it though),& as well as Pat from Anniesland (sounds like fairyland). To all the dreamers John, Stephen, Stick, Davie & Hugh Miss Dawn says to you all, thanks & dream on & on & on..... Having said that, Stick if you really are a 9 inch uncut virgin send the picture to prove it. We now come to the thinkers! I love the thought that John from Govan shared with me. All I can print about this one is that it includes a little bit of hose pipe & some irrigation nets!!! My thanks to the girl called Ann from Sighthill, but no thanks not even blind fold & I promise not to print your picture, trust me. To the three boyz from Glasgow called Bobbi, Stu & Vince you can all drink it anytime (when you are legal. Next time send the photos minus the school uniforms. I'm not that way inclined). And so we come to the boaster, Paul. I have to admit that I don't remember doing what you suggest with a human let alone with a puppet because that is what you remind Missy of a great big fat ugly puppet. Even if I had a birth mark where you are suggesting I would have to be pretty desperate to let someone who resembles "Gonzo" caught in a mangle see it. I would rather squat over Hutton with one of her used razors in her mouth & that is something that is more probable than letting a two legged "Bagpuss" anywhere near me!! Thanks to you all for taking the time to write in with your thoughts & fabrications & to "Bagpuss" take a yawn & fall asleep forgetting to wake up of course.
To Sadie Frost's & how sad it was to see the "levy man" all pealing, blotchy & still as boring. A person of his age should know how to block out the nasty old sun with a factor block resembling his real age. How about one in the regions of 45/50?? It was Sunday night & we were all treated to Mother B. in all her resplendent glory. Glittery & spangly it's wonderful to see her reaching those heights again & the notes. I even didn't mind it when Betty used this ladies' name in joke & jest after all isn't that what we are all about & aren't we supposed to rise above it & allow the public to have their fun & not allow narrow-mindedness or jealousy to spoil what is after all only "Entertainment". So Mother B go ahead & use me in any way you feel (& feel you may) I have no objections to this sort of abuse & to all others the same goes for you, however Betty don't ever be tempted back to the dark side stay on the good side & keep pointing those tits to the stars. To the lovely Angus we must get together at some point in the near future to discuss just exactly where your tattoo starts & where it ends. This man was hot even if he was flashing it in those awful toilets. I must also say hello & thank you to the two dykes that were only too eager to tell me all about what they got up to in the women's tent at Pride. I am glad that they are finally getting the hang of Dental Dams although how do you get them to stay wrapped around your thumb? I see those bloody awful candles are still present at the door. WHY? On the subject of Karen Dunbar did Missy notice a little dig at the lovely Karen in an advert recently for C.C. Blooms 4th birthday bash. It was headlined by the wonderful LoLa Lasagne with Karaoke hosted by none other than Karen Dumber?? Have you had a wee falling out with the boyz & girlz at Blooms or is it that you have reached that stage in your career where yet another name change is in order?? Drop me a line & let Miss Dawn know.
The Big Yellow Barn is next & we were "treated" to the sounds of Tom. His music is nearly as bad as the tone of Fishpaw's voice when he gets a hold of a mike, but more on her later. Tom why do you insist on talking utter nonsense while the music plays? Miss Dawn doesn't like the music, but she does like the boyz. Especially the two twins, Shane & Kevin whom I met up with the other night. These two boyz are hung like donkeys & do you know that even their dicks are the same size (our Ed. agrees). The Barn was as always full of posers with rented accommodation & car. Suggesting to anyone gullible enough to listen that they are in advertising. What that means when you read between the lines is one of three things: 1. They sell the Big Issue. 2. They sell newspapers in the train station. 3. They work at the local newsagents & they are car watching while the boss is on holiday. You choose which one is to be believed. However, there is one driving around in a yellow one right now!
Sunday afternoon & it is time for "Francine's Fool Hoose" down at the Waterloo. Now you have to understand I'm not a fan of the fish, however getting the chance to goggle at sidekick Myrtle (sorry for getting the name wrong. The boss gave me 100 lines (of something illegal) & made me stand in the corner) is worth having to listen to that awful screech of Fishpaw. You know the rules boyz, look where we boyz are supposed to look!! I have noticed a thank you letter from the committee of The Rainbow Fund & to date with regards to the "fool hoose", badge sales & donation cans the punters have raised over £524.00. It just brings tears to this old bird's eye. (The other one is a fake). At least they are keeping us up to date about how much is raised & we are not left to work it out for ourselves or better still make up a story or four as to who gets what (pity). They have set an example & others should take a lesson from them. It is a shame some of those stories that I am forced to listen to might actually be true!! As if I would believe any of them, however questions do spring to mind?
And on the subject of things springing to mind, has anyone noticed how sexy looking the lovely "Tilly" is these days. I watched in amazement as she swept into The Trophy Room the other Saturday all white & glittery. She looked as if she had been put through a mangle & hung out to wrinkle. For Tilly that is her at her best. She reminds Miss Dawn of a younger Hutton & although my only memory of Hutton in her younger days was bumping into her at Shepherd's Bush tube station looking all white & glittery.......
I met this very unusual boy in The Poo on the same night in question who goes by the name of Sven. This boy is double jointed & the things he got up to with Glasgow's only two legged sanitary bin, Miss Hutton was shocking. I was treated to what Hutton can do with two socks, a sar beni & a bottle of brown sauce. It was also an interesting thought when Sven picked up a certain barboy who assures everybody daft enough to listen that he is very much off scene, happy (do your snooping in The Barn) & vegetarian. The thought being I know what they put in a sar beni!! (what do you mean Ed. You don't know what a sar beni is?) Who wouldn't love to be a fly on the wall that night.
And talking of Hutton. If you were lucky enough not to miss the Divine Miss Hutton's invite to her pre-post pride event then you like myself would have wound up at Bride Street Mansions with "sherry" & duster in hand for what had to be THE event of the day/night. Now I am not saying that Hutty (to the few) (that's the ones she doesn't owe money to) isn't house proud, but more time is spent on any one session on that mug of hers than on the actual cleaning of the mansion. One thing in her favour is the fact that her fridge is immaculate. Gin on the top shelf & pils on the second, third & fourth. They were all there: Ina de Camp. I never noticed her bringing in a sherry bottle, but downing some of Hutton's best port. Then of course we had our array of hangers on the lovely Cilla & her old figure, Dreamgirl Mary (still doing her own make up), Lady Hamilton (with the same fox-stole), Madame Harrow (sorry Harlow), Miss Brenda (I give free head) & Miss Maximum Self Esteem herself Teena to name drop only a few. Highlight of the night when Hutton suggested we play Twister? Lowlight came when Hutton appeared in an off the shoulder "Oscar De La What Every Woman Wants" number in a lovely shade of Burnt Orange with matching Sling Fronts. Screaming to all who were young & lucky enough to still have hearing that the Gin was finished & therefore the party was. So it was all out & into The Yellow Barn in time for the start of the happy hour and as for Betty? Well the last I saw of her was as she slipped out of the door with yet another postman on her arm & her hand in his pocket & you can bet it wasn't cafe Lettuce they were off to!!
Next Month we may have an update on the London scene for anyone who might be going there for a wee holiday I shall see how the petrol money goes. One more thing Miss Dawn has to say & it goes like this: If anyone has a view, opinion, bitch, general moan, has something to get off their shoulder about me & or this column then Missy is more than happy to accept your continued letters after all as I have said one more than one occasion the public (YOU) have the right to know how well a pub/club or event is doing & if there is a bit of scandal attached then all the better. The information, gossip or whatever contained within these columns comes from you, the public. I listen remember & then write it down, Can anyone tell me what is so wrong with that? After all if you who were only to happy to open their mouths then there would be a lot of people looking for other jobs.
Until the next time my dears, remember stay aware & keep those mouths yapping just long enough for Miss Davenport to extract what she needs. It is after all only a way of passing time & bringing joy to others. I am just glad so many people take notice of what I write. See you all when I return from London.
Dawn x x x
Well, here we go again, time for yet another riveting instalment of my world-famous pile of monthly shite, cobbled up from all the rumours, stories and usual waffle that comes my way during yet another month out on the razzle, partying, boozing, clubbing, searching for Mr. Right, while still keeping in touch with all the movers and shakers to dig up all the guff that makes up Glasgow's most popular Scene news.
There's been a few interesting rumours doing the rounds over the last month. Most of them were about a new King City Leisure club opening and were the usual predictable shire from the usual arseholes claiming to be "in the know". It will be opening, it won't be opening, it's B.O.M., it's the Hatt Club, it's the old Fruitmarket, it's the Fire Station, it's the old Club X etc.. Blah, Blah! Well, at the time of writing, I don't know any more than you lot, so your guess is as good as mine! Anyway, wherever it is, and whatever it is, here's hoping that the service is a bit better than some of the other K.C.L. outlets we could all care to mention. Oh, and could we please have less of the stupid rumours about it being miles from the Gay Ghetto, as the scene has already shown that they're too bloody lazy to walk more than a few yards out of Merchant City, and some of the venues being suggested would be a total disaster!
Another daft story doing the rounds is that the piccy adorning this column isn't actually really ME! Of course it bloody is - instantly recognised throughout the scene despite my hair being a lot shorter then, although you couldn't miss THAT jacket anywhere! I'd love to know who the sad tossers are that come up with this shite! And while we're on the subject of my identity (which everybody knows anyway), I'd also like to point out that I am NOT Dawn Davenport, 'cos I've been getting the blame for some of the stuff she's written! It would appear that a man with a big camera has been putting the story round that I am in fact two columnists! Just as well that lens isn't like Pinocchio's nose or he'd need a bloody tripod to support it!
Now then, the big story this month was, of course, the new regime at the G.G.L.C. After months of complaints of too much empire-building, too many chiefs, not enough Indians, volunteers being treated like shit and not enough being done to promote the Centre, a major change was made to the management Committee recently. Complaints about the state of the building, and the decreasing numbers using it are already being addressed. A programme of repairs and decoration has now started and attempts are being made to let the unit which is currently being used as an office. Hopefully the subject of rent levels will be looked into, 'cos you can rent a whole bloody shop in the Savoy Centre for less than the cost of a unit at the G.G.L.C. The appalling state of the bogs has also been tackled, as this was a regular cause for complaint, resulting in the moronic actions of a few arseholes making it necessary to keep the cottage under lock and key! Anyway, they're looking dead smart now, after a lick of paint, new tiled walls and new lino, and seeing as how the Centre was getting pissed off with all the graffiti, they've decided to install blackboards so all you cottagers can scribble away to your hearts' content! Just as well really. 'Cos Gerry says that if anybody messes up his nice clean walls, he'll "kick their cunt in!" Always did have a way with words did Gerry! If you've got some spare time on your hands, the Centre is looking for volunteers to help with their newsletter, manning the desk etc. - drop in post or phone for details. They'll even cover you for the cost of a cup of tea and a rock cake, now that Martha's discovered SELF-RAISING flour!
There's been big changes in the cafe-bar too. After months of legal wrangling, the previous tenants have been turfed out, and well-known scene mover and shaker Martha, who you'll all remember from Gillespie's, has taken over the show, assisted by Kelly, the new lady in her life, Gerry who you'll also remember from Madge's and Astra Gifts, and Willy who seems to have got landed with all the humphing 'cos he's so butch (till he opens his mouth and starts shrieking his tits off!). The drinks license has already been transferred, and the cafe seems to have got off to a promising start with a few functions booked already. There's a good selection of grub for us veggies and you carnivorous lot and even if you're only in for a cup of tea and a biccy, you'll be made more than welcome. And there shouldn't be any complaints about the lousy service either, which had been the case in the past. Martha's one of us "old school" bunch who learned the trade back in the good old days when the customer actually mattered, and all these modern-day food and beverage wankers with all their ATTITUDE and shit-awful standards of service were still in their prams. You've no excuse for not supporting the Centre and the cafe-bar now - everything's changed, new people, new ideas and all suggestions and offers of help gratefully received.
I had speaks with Bunny from the Hellfire Club a few days ago, and he was telling me that their next Glasgow party will be on Friday the 4th of September in the G.G.L.C. For those of you who've never heard of the Hellfire Club, it's a fetish night for people of all sexual persuasions, irrespective of gender or sexuality. Unfortunately, some of the regular customers over at the Poo (their previous venue) seemed to regard the night as some sort of freak show, and made various attempts to gatecrash the Trophy Room, despite the various efforts of the PooStewards. Shame on you people! You moan like fuck when the breeders come in to gay clubs "just for a laugh" so you know what it feels like! Anyway, the Hellfire Club will be taking over the whole G.G.L.C. and the dress code will be strictly enforces so if you're a nosy cunt that doesn't belong there, DON'T BOTHER! If you want to join in the party, see the ad in this issue for details, or call Bunny on 01698 811505.
Now then, for those of you who like your beer strong, cloudy and with bits of assorted vegetation still floating in it (actually, that's real cider, not ale yer daft wazzock! - copykeyer), you might be interested to know about the Glasgow Gay Real Ale Group. Head Guzzler is a very nice chappie called Ken Murray, who tells me that the group has been going got four months now and their meetings, which are held on the 1st Wednesday of the month at the Old Printworks in North Frederick Street at 9pm regularly attract a good few Real Ale fans. All newcomers will be made most welcome, and I expect the group will also appeal to the rare lesbians who I know are into proper beer. I'd always thought that Real Ale drinkers were a bunch of hippies with beards who wore cardigans and open-toed sandals, but my editor, who's also into Real Ale (with a body to match) assures me the group appeals to all ages and backgrounds. So if you fancy a pint of Snarly's Old Knobblaster, give Ken a phone on 0141-427 4764 to arrange to go to their next meeting, or see their website details in the listings.
Anybody see that bit on So Graham Norton where only one of the studio audience had shagged over 50 people? Imagine if that had been an audience of benders - the whole lot of them would have been standing! It's scary when you work out your own track record. Even only one bit of trade a month over a period of fifty years works out at 600 shags! Next time you think you're not getting enough nookie, just imagine how the breeders are feeling!
The Lane continues to go from strength to strength now that Bob's been persuaded to take out an advert in ScotsGay, no doubt helped along by that nice bit of trade on the front desk. Long-haired bit of rough with a ton of crap jewellery - sound familiar to anybody? The steam room is now under construction and should be finished soon. Also, Bob's found the key to his purse, and will shortly be starting a major expansion, adding more private cabins, another chill-out room, and a second video lounge. This should about double the size of the venue, and there are other big things in the pipeline which I'll keep you up to date on. Anyway, if you've never been down before, give us a try, and you can tell all your mates you've actually met yours truly in person and that I really DO exist, despite what some sad twats would have you believe!
Right then, that's all the main stuff covered for this month so, as usual, I'll finish off with the bits of gossip that's come my way over the past few months. Big Derek, the ex-manager of Centurion is now back behind the bar at Austin's, no doubt giving the punters a quick dose of wimoweh in-between pouring pints.
Anybody wanting to get any of their bits pierced should check out the Paradise Piercing Studio in Dixon Street, just next door to the G.G.L.C. I fancy getting my knob done, but don't fancy the idea of two weeks without a decent blow-job while it heals up! (I'll bet the small Ginger One edits that out as it lowers the tone of the magazine!)
Had an interesting conversation with the other Bald Ginger One - John, the manager of Penelope's, who was telling me that, in his opinion, the further up their own arses that some clubs are with all this IMAGE and ATTITUDE shit, the worse the service gets. Absolutely spot on, and we know who the worst culprits are!
Anybody else see that bit in the papers recently, claiming that hairy people are cleverer than all you slapheads? Seems that us hirsute lot are not only a better shag, but have brains too! That should stop you lot taking the piss out of us Xena - Warrior Princess lookalikes.
The date given last issue for Penelope's Bent Birthday Bash was wrong and is, in fact, the 25th of August. I can confirm that Kelly Marie has been booked to appear, and there will be special guest DJs on the night including Stella. DJ Colin has slotted nicely into the Tuesday night position left vacant by DJ Boff who's currently not working the club circuit due to work commitments.
I see Ms. Fishpan's managed to get a donation out of the News of the World for The Rainbow Fund. Nice little addition to the wonga that's been raised from her Sunday afternoon bingo sessions down at the Waterloo.
Had my ear bent recently by Colin from Austin's, who wanted you all to know that their Christmas Party was a great success! Any why not? As you know, I generally take the piss out of these sorts of thing, which were all the rage back in the 80s, but if that's what the punters want, then fair enough. How about a toga party, or a Tramps and Tarts night? Haven't been to one of those for over 20 years. And it wasn't me that wrote about the Austin's crew and their fake suntans - that's the elusive Ms. Davenport getting ME in the shit again!
Well, I think that's this month's Magnum Opus ready for the Small Bald Ginger One (Oi! Goldilocks - the person who has to translate your scrawl is actually a Large, Busty, Black-Haired One), so I'd better bugger off and do some proper work (I'm sitting in The Lane writing this, so I hope you lot appreciate it). Anyway, as usual, moans, gossip, requests for PAs etc. to all the contact details at the back of the mag.
Buy me a drink sometime.
Oh Lord, thanks for conceiving the Edinburgh Festival! The capital, during the month of August, splits at the seems with gorgeous babes of all genders and sexuality's. The gay scene goes crazy.
Ridiculously busy has been The New Town Bar which has a late festival alcohol licence - now open until 3am. It's a great place with a well stocked, reasonably priced bar, and a smiley cute manager called Phil. If you haven't been on the scene a while, you'll know Phil from the now defunct leather bar Chapps. We printed his dolly old eek in the last issue and never said who he was - so now you know. Ask to see the old Chapps party pix...
And bless my soul if The French Connection hasn't been busy lately too! With what must be the friendliest customers in Edinburgh and a wonderful collection of 70's and 80's classic pop, it's were to go when you're done being pretentious and arty, and you just wanna have fun. Mother Babs, owner of Edinburgh's oldest established gay bar, is also boasting a 3am late license. She says that dodgy costumes are optional on Sunday 30th August when Frenchies host a treasure trail for Milestone House. It kicks of at 4pm from the bar and they'll be karaoke in the evening. Then to end the festival, Paulette Dubois hosts her own complete show, with special guest Lady Samantha... that's on Saturday 5th September and it's free entry so I'll see you there...
Everywhere on the scene this month are the boys from Gay Men's Health. They tell me that if you call 0131-558 9444 and become a GMH volunteer you'll get a discount card where you can get as much as 40% off in gay bars, shops, cafes, and saunas in Edinburgh. Chat one of the boys up, or see the freebie mag SPURT! For more details. Oh, and don't talk to the Evening News or the Daily Mail.
The Stag and Turret is blazing from strength to strength and is particularly popular with one ScotsDyke that we're all fond of. Under new(ish) management the place is performing nicely and it is well worth checking out. Their Cocktail Party on Friday 28th August is a must attend event.
My girlfriends say that Divine Divas is the best women only night in Edinburgh ever! Held at The Venue from 10pm till 3am, it's a modest £5(£3) to get in and all proceeds go to Lothian Gay and Lesbian Switchboard. Check it out on Friday 21st August, and Friday 4th September.
Now... hands up who-ever went to the Masked Ball at Permission on Sunday 9th August! I wasn't there but I know a (married) couple that was. Check out the venues page elsewhere in this organ for details of where to find out about the next one...
Or if you want some real torture you might want to try getting hold of a drink at CC Blooms on the weekends of the festival. Everything's fine 'till about midnight and then you might as well forget it. You're better off in Route 66 until it shuts - then scamper up to CC's at the last minute if you haven't pulled yet and are already pished... Have I missed out anywhere? Oh yes, Caf Kudos... but then so does everybody else! (Bitch!) (Really? It always looks busy enough to me. Ed)
See you again soon. Fax, phone, write or e-mail me with comments and stuff. Enjoy star spotting, and if you see Scott Capurro out on the scene then his arse is mine.
Bit busier on the scene this month in general; Monday quiz night and Tuesday bingo night are pulling more into Bar Xs. Wednesday karaoke in Devas is the main early evening entertainment, but Xs is now getting its fair share. Rumours of students' nights planned for Thursdays next term in Liberty rounds off the mid-week entertainment.
The melodic mixing of DJ 'BP' continues to attract interest from gays and straights alike and I have heard a couple of groans about the numbers of straights at Liberty. Some of us are guilty of trying to bring in ten straight friends according to the management and they do try to get a happy balance.
Liberty Nightclub's female DJ Pat will be hosting another 70s, 80s and 90s night on the last Friday of this month. It was very popular the last two times - so get along early.
Happy was not the description for the lovers' tiff between Andy and Steve at Libs recently. We all saw it coming but the duo were unceremoniously punted by La Liberty who appeared to have had lessons from La Deva - we hope not! When people break up in a relationship they seem to feel that everyone should be involved and that the animosity should continue for longer than the relationship - fuckin' grow up!
Relationships are, however, the name of the game in Dundee this holiday season and rumours of a triple wedding are rippling through the scene with Fonda Balls movin' in her loon fae Aberdeen, Di and Ally linked at the tonsils and of course, our very own Brenda still claiming child benefit for you know whoooo!
In a very public manner came a vile offer to purchase Liberty Nightclub Co. Ltd. but I hear from a friend in Edinburgh that the vile man had found the Local Conservatives were unable to fund this little adventure. When contacted by us, a spokesperson grumpily advised that the premises were not on the market and to ignore the Dreamer. So we all breathed a sigh of relief - you bet!
Because not enough gays are going down with HIV and AIDS, it appears our local Health Authority are cutting back even further on expenditure for the Harm Reduction Centre. With a supposed half million quid given by the Scottish Office not being passed on to the centre when it is supposed to be "ring-fenced" ie. not used for other things, the workers are pissed off. They appear to be voting with their feet and we now have lost Messrs Bullock and more recently Rodgers, leaving the only known gay person on the safe sex team as Chris - whose qualifications are somewhat unknown to us. Will the scene meekly allow our services to diminish in stature and quality from its former highly regarded position within the UK? A great many people, not just gays, are having unsafe sex in our area - an ongoing safe sex message is required.
The local switchboard have asked its reader for comments on the snoozeletter which it publishes (photocopies) with such gay abandon. Its name - Queerier - reinforces homophobia and many find that offensive; particularly as it is supposedly available in so many straight venues.
The Fanny Club (sorry Fantasy) has opened above Liberty in the old Casino and some had expressed concern about the number of straight men who may frequent the area. Whilst in its early days, nobody has yet scored with a love deprived chicken from the table dancing club - but many live in hope!
See you soon in the City of Discovergay!
Hi there, yes - me again. I'll try not to waffle on too long in order that more pictures of all you handsome devils and devilesses can be included. There's still nothing official about us frequenting the Station Hotel yet; however, you may say nothing official is needed as we all know that we're already frequenting the place and are very welcome as well. Received another e-mail from America recently; another chap from abroad, hoping to come and visit and to meet local gays. He has previously been here but hasn't "met" the scene. No doubt we'll soon change that!
Nice to see oor own wee Gusset settled back into his regular "slot". Amused to read that I've been a "dear" recently - so much so that the good Dr & Matron had nothing "risque" to say about me in their last column. Not often that pair are stuck for words! I agree it can be better with two; however, why stop there, with three and four it's even more! Anyway enjoy the photos of yer birthday party - kissies to you all!
Hello, everybody! Hope you're having a wild summer wherever you might be. Here in the North we're partying like the millennium had arrived early.
Let's start this article with a question. Is there anybody still alive in Inverness? We ask because there has been no sign or contact since the Highland Youth Gay Disco last month and, despite requests for reservations for our big summer party at Rothes Glen, no-one from that neck of the woods materialized for the event, excepting a couple of our Social Group members. It just seems a little strange that there seems to be such a lack of support for our events when we always make the effort to attend whatever is happening in Inverness. Perhaps someone can enlighten us as to what the situation really is in the so called 'Gateway to the Highlands'.
Anyway, with a helping hand (?!) from Charlie Chicken, here's the promised report on the Rothes Glen Fancy Dress Summer Ball :
The guests started trickling in from 2pm onwards for the start of the festivities, which included an afternoon drinks party and barbecue on the patio. Two formally attired officials, Malcolm and Andrew, were on hand to greet the masses, along with a bowl of punch, the latter initially appearing to have more appeal than the assorted humans! Participants travelled from Edinburgh, Glasgow, Stirling, the West Coast and various local towns and villages to find out just exactly what goes on outside suburbia, and as the day progressed and everyone became more relaxed the party really started to swing! Rothes Glen Hotel is a wonderful venue - like a miniature castle surrounded by hills, woodland and fields of Highland cattle and, on this occasion, full of screaming queens. (The poor cows didn't know what to make of it all - the four-legged ones, that is!)
After much drinking and gobbling sausages (remember the barbecue?) most of the guests retired to their rooms to don their party frocks (and to gobble some more sausages!), emerging in time to guzzle their way through the sumptuous banquet prepared by oor Paul and his merry band of camp followers, which included prawns, quiche, pasta with prawns, rice with prawns, vegetables with prawns, prawns with prawns... Fortunately the glorious pavlovas prepared by oor Neil did not contain any prawns! Well done, guyz'n'galz - you did us proud!
Then, onward to the dancing. The eightsome reel caused much hilarity as the gin-soaked revellers tried unsuccessfully to maintain a circle, after which things degenerated rapidly! The offer of a pound a strip (for the raffle tickets) had visitors marvelling at how cheap the boyz were here in comparison to the cities! The cabaret featured our very own pinup girls, the Addams Sisiters (a.k.a. Comfortable Shoes), who vamped it up outrageously to the great amusement of all.
Sometime in the middle of the night the revelry drew to a temporary halt, although those in the know headed for the Sugar Plumm suite for the commencement of the After-party Party, at which jamboree (where we were all Boy Scouts, dib dib dib!) a tabletop laden with miniature bottles of spirits and a case of lager disappeared as if a swarm of locusts had passed through, and the tone descended from the gutter into the nearest cesspool!
A morass of dazed and dizzy queens appeared for breakfast, holding out trembling appendages for coffee and aspirin (or gin and coke), and the usual round of gossip about who slept where, who did what with whom, the state of the economy and the depleted reserves of the National Sperm Bank...
Finally, Pride of Moray Firth Social Group are pleased to announce the receipt of a grant from MFR Charities Trust, which will be of great assistance in providing further social benefits for the community in the North East. Many thanks for that.
If you're in the area, why not look us up? See ya!
Well, that's me one year closer to getting my concession card. Granted, it's still going to be a good few decades before I actually qualify, but as I am currently sitting here in post-weekend recovery mode, my legs are beginning to tell me that I'm not quite as young as I used to be. Either that or that I'm not as fit as I should be. Hmm, go figure. So, how was my weekend? Absolutely awesome. Originally intended to be a "straight" night out, Friday turned out to be rather more alcohol fuelled than I had planned, so much so that I vaguely remember being in Club 2000 and only when I visited Castro on the Saturday afternoon for a hair-of-the-dog "kill-or-cure" pint, I was informed that I was also in there the previous night. Next topic of conversation please! Anyway, I ended up being separated from my friends, and in a vague attempt to meet up with one of them in Cove later on I succeeded in getting lost! And do they have any flamin' phone boxes in Cove? The Saturday evening was rather better, despite a swollen knee gained from a rather embarrassing fall the night before, and for a change I decided once more to spend most of the night in Castro, which was a rather more pleasant environment than C2000, in which I spent a brief fifteen minutes, as I began to feel rather claustrophobic. Back up the road, Jaqui M was playing a brilliant set, and I had one of the best nights out there yet. I have to say, it's nice to see the Aberdeen scene looking so much healthier now. This time last year things were looking a little bit bleak, with the closure of Caberfeidh and the premature failure of Lust@Deniro's. Things seem to have balanced out a bit between the two venues, although with the imminent return of the student population, I don't know if both venues will be able to cope. Could Aberdeen be doing with a third venue? And is anyone brave enough to go and try it? Club 2000 is approaching its first anniversary in November, and Castro will have been around for just over a year longer, so maybe this is a sign of much better things to come? Well, if you're a cynic like me you won't believe it!
Sunday night was a wee bit of a departure from the norm, as I found out that Judge Jules was playing in the Ministry. It's not one of my usual haunts, I must admit, but the place was absolutely rocking. I must say that the strict "we'll search everything but your underwear" policy was a wee bit pointless, and also a wee bit embarrassing when you're asked to turn out your pockets. Condoms are okay, but bouncers always look rather bemused when they see the lube! Trying to stop people taking drugs is a futile exercise, really, as they just neck them before they go in. It's most definitely not a gay venue, but I found it intriguing that I got more attention from guys in there than I have in any other place. I was most chuffed when I got talking to this gorgeous lad at the bar who at one point hauled me onto the dance floor and spent most of the night jumping up and down with his arm across my shoulder. And then there was the old "straight" school acquaintance who spent more time giving me wee pecks on the cheek than anything else... Lovely! I'll give the place ten out of ten for talent.
Anything else new? Well, Club 2000 now has this fantastic wee machine in the gents, which dispenses not the usual packs of condoms (cos they're free anyway). but other handy things like Anadin, Resolve, Gold Spot, and a handy wee one-night-stand kit complete with razor etc. So now there's no excuse for walking home in the morning with a hangover, breath that could be used as a replacement for chemical warfare, and a face like a Brillo pad! Whoa, I'd better stop now, or I'll end up with more column inches than Minerva. Ahem. Anyway, have a wonderful month, and in the mean time, watch out Edinburgh 'cos I'll be heading your way some time during the Festival. You have been warned!
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