Category: Christmas & New Year

Love Actually

Christmas is almost upon us, and it’s a big deal for local businesses trying to make a few extra shillings before the January slump. As regular readers know, Liam and I like a drink or three, so we do our bit to keep the hospitality sector afloat – it’s our patriotic duty. One of our favourite city watering holes is the Gardener’s Arms (known by most punters as the Murderers), a traditional ale house stuffed with old-world charm, oak beams and exposed brickwork. The pub has a deliciously dark past – hence the nickname – and it’s usually our last port of call before we stumble onto our bus back to the village.

To drum up a bit of business, last year the jovial pub landlord posted a video on Faceache – a fantastic spoof of a scene from Love Actually, one of the nation’s favourite festive films. And it’s been posted again this year. Click on the image below. The video is a bit rude, so best move on if you’re easily offended…

Alternatively, watch it on YouTube…

If you happen to be passing the pub, be sure to pop in for a few sherries and admire the murder theme posted on the walls (Dr Crippin, Lizzie Borden, Bonnie and Clyde, Ruth Ellis, to name but a few). And the yuletide windows are pretty good too.

Wherever I May Roam

The last time I received a sexual health sales pitch from Britain’s favourite high street pharmacy, it was about erectile dysfunction. Bloody cheek, I thought. No floppy problem here at Pansy HQ, no siree. Not yet, anyway. The penny must’ve dropped with the caring people at Boots the Chemist because now they recommend ‘Roam’, a masturbation cream…

“… for better penis play, heightened sensation and more intense orgasm. Unlike lubes, this transforming balm keeps you going for longer. STROKE, GLIDE & ELEVATE your solo play time. Enriched with extra caring COCONUT & SHEA.”

And apparently, it’s great for ‘edging’ and ‘jelqing’. Any idea? No? Me neither. In my day, we just called it wanking. And why ‘Roam’? Something to do while waiting for a bus in the rain? Sure beats fumbling to get the brolly up. Need some light relief in the meat and two veg aisle at Tesco’s? Or maybe getting a bit bored queuing up to ride the ‘Big One’ at Blackpool Pleasure Beach? Best whip out your Roam from your man bag and pleasure yourself instead. The mind boggles.

Still, at £4.99 with 50% off in the sales, it’s a steal. And it’s vegan too, so that’s alright then. Too late for Liam’s Christmas stocking, though.

Pruning the Pansies

You know you’re getting long in the tooth when Santa brings you a shiny new pair of secateurs for Christmas. It simply confirms my suspicion that old fairies don’t go disco dancing, they just end their days pruning the pansies at the bottom of the garden. That’ll be me, then.

Actually, it just so happens that Father Christmas got my letter. My old secateurs were knackered. I know I’m supposed to keep ’em sharp and clean but I just can’t be arsed because life, as they say, really is too short. The new pair will be handy come springtime for the annual horticultural nip and tuck.

My new pansy pruners weren’t made by bobble-hatted little elves shackled to work benches in Lapland sweat shops. No, like everything these days, they were manufactured in China. Still, they look like they’ll do the business. The same can’t be said of the instructions.

Sprout long new thingses?

Pickling oil?

Body’s each spot?

Inscrutable or what? 🤔

Buddy, Can You Spare a Dime?

Homelessness is a complex issue, and there are so many reasons why someone might find themselves without anywhere to live. But we live in a rich country and I can’t help thinking that the scourge of homelessness is worse than it needs to be. I’m not given to petty envy. I’ve nothing against the wealthy as long as their wealth has been honestly acquired and they pay their dues instead of squirrelling it away in various tax havens. As for tax dodging billionaires, how much money can any one person possibly spend on themselves in a lifetime? As Francis Bacon – the 17th-century former Chancellor of England, not the famous artist – allegedly said:

“Money is like muck, no good except it be spread.”

But, more positively, there is help available to those who both need and seek it, at least there is in Norwich. I recently picked up this Pathways Norwich signposting leaflet.

Is it enough? Is it ever? Sleeping rough must be tough at any time of year. Imagine how much rougher and tougher it gets as winter cloaks the streets. I know Christmas can be expensive and many people struggle to pay the bills but, buddy, if you can spare a dime, please do.

Whatever Christmas means to you, wishing you and yours a warm, dry and peaceful yuletide.

Pantos and Parties

Storm Darragh barrelling across angry skies couldn’t keep us from our annual panto and party pre-Christmas pilgrimage to The Smoke. The London Palladium pantomime this year is Robin Hood, starring the outrageous queen of high and low camp, Julian Clary, and his usual cast of merrie men and women. The vocal act is Jane McDonald – every pensioner’s favourite cruise-line crooner – as Maid Marion. And the likely lass from Yorkshire can really belt out a tune. Lavish, filthy and with a plot as flimsy as a Christmas twig, the show is a belly-laugh sacrament that’s become a firm festive fixture for these two village people.

The gusty winds and horizontal rain drove us into various watering holes to dry off and warm up. Everywhere was rammed. But even these two old merry men don’t drink before midday, so we spent one morning wandering around the splendid Museum of Science, one of the holy trinity of world-class museums along Exhibition Road in South Kensington – the V&A and the Natural History Museum being the other two must-sees. Like the pubs, the various galleries were rammed, not with dripping trippers but with wide-eyed kiddies in backpacks and waterproofs. It’s a fascinating place to spend a few hours, whatever the weather.

We also had the good fortune to catch up with family for much-missed hot gossip and to meet the latest editions to the clan – twin girls. And gorgeous they are too! It made these two old festive fairies very proud great uncles.

Sinderella

We missed Big Dick and His Pussy, last year’s mucky offering from the Adult Panto team, so we were determined to see Sinderella, their very naughty-but-nice interpretation of the classic rags to royalty tale we all know so well. It was a strictly gays’ and girls’ night for our foursome at Norwich’s Maddermarket Theatre, with husbands left behind to look after the sprogs. Giving a whole new meaning to that well-trod panto phrase ‘he’s behind you’, it was a non-stop, X-rated, utterly unbridled, cross-dressed, nudge-nudge, wink-wink glitterfest of smut and filth which left no profanity unsaid or hole barred. We loved it.

Just one more show to go – Treasure Island from the Loddon Players, our much-loved local am dram company – and then it’s curtains for panto season for another year.

New Year, New Life, New Hope

During Twixmas, one of our many nephews asked his long-term partner to marry him. His proposal was made at a surprise engagement do in London. Was he wise or foolhardy to drop to one knee in front of his nearest and dearest, ring in hand? Will she? Won’t she? Well, she burst into happy tears and said yes so there’s the answer. Relief all round to the sound of chinking and cheers. With tension eased, the party got into full swing. The young ‘uns kept their old gay uncles well-oiled with plonk and Jagerbombs. We must have looked like a pair of old drunken dowagers propped up in the corner.

We also found out that our soon-to-be niece-in-law is heavy with twins. They already have one toddler – fredelicious Freddy – so three will soon become five.

New year, new life, new hope.

I’ll leave you with London’s epic New Year’s Eve fireworks, a spectacular light show to celebrate ‘a city for all’ with a nod to some of the more positive events of 2023, including the 10th anniversary of the legalisation of same-sex marriage in England and Wales. Amen to that.

Top of the Pansy Pops 2023

Looking around at our troubled and troubling world, 2023 hasn’t exactly been the best of years – precious little hope and definitely no glory. Despite the doom and gloom, for the most part village life has remained tranquil and quietly satisfying, with the pansies erect and un-wilted. We know how lucky we are. This year’s crop of top pansy posts reflects this theme and has a distinctly personal and domestic feel with splash and crash, a Turkish dilly-dally, a hungry pot plant and a little slice of Essex chucked into the mix. For some unknown reason, July saw a surge in interest. And then there was the old post about our coffin hatch, which suddenly took off in November. Who knows why? It’s a mystery.

Here’s wishing for a little peace in 2024.

John Garner 1967-2003: Twenty Years On

I looked around the tidy cemetery. It was serenely silent except for the sound of birdsong and the trickle of water from the mouths of the dolphins in their petrified embrace. It calmed me. I sat on the bench and inserted the earphones of the MP3 player, already cued for the moment. I pressed play,…

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From Tossers to Flonkers

We’ve become part-time groupies for our local village bowls team. To the uninitiated, bowls is a traditional sport beloved of the grey herd in which the objective is to roll weighted balls along a green so that they stop close to a smaller ball at the other end – closest wins. A variant of French boules, the…

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Battle of Water-loo

We returned from our nostalgic dalliance in Dalyan to water trickling down our dining room wall. Okay, it’s a bit of a stretch to call it an actual dining room. It’s more of a dining area. We quickly traced the leak to our bathroom, shut off the stopcock and summoned an emergency plumber. Nice young…

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Dallying in Dalyan

It’s been a quarter of a century since I last visited Dalyan on Turkey’s pine-clad south-west coast. Back in the day, it was a sleepy village on a dreamy, reed-lined river stuffed with turtles. I’d been told that Dalyan had since grown into a full-on resort stuffed with young Russians avoiding the call-up. As they…

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Home Alone Day 2

The definition of boredom is cleaning out the bathroom extractor fan with an old toothbrush. Let’s face it, there’s only so much knick-knack dusting a boy can do when home alone. But I’m not yet ready for a meagre diet of daytime TV for the sofa-bound brain-dead – all idle chit-chat from nobodies about nothing.…

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Bloody-Minded Brits

I’ve always had a fu*k ’em attitude to authority, particularly the do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do hypocrites. You know the kind of thing: politicians preaching ‘family values’ while knocking off their secretaries on the side or hellfire priests touching up the altar boys in the vestry. I’m glad to say that sheer bloody-mindedness is a glorious national trait. And…

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Echo Youth Theatre Presents Little Shop of Horrors

We had a little taste of Echo Youth Theatre’s Little Shop of Horrors at the Maddermarket’s recent charity gig and thought, yep, that’s right up our alley. The quirky musical comedy features Skid Row florist Seymour in a kinda horticultural ménage à trois with co-worker Audrey and Audrey 2, his pet pot plant with an…

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Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

Liam is away visiting an old friend from his wayward early years as a young gay about town. They worked and played together when Liam did a proper job with a pension attached. It’s the first time I’ve been home alone since we moved to the village over three years ago. Liam left to catch…

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Road to Nowhere

We binned the car in 2014 so, unsurprisingly, good public transport is important to us. That’s why we chose a village close to Norwich with a decent bus service – regular and reliable. And Norwich has fast and frequent train services to London for our big city fixes and family stuff. All in all, it…

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The Only Way is Essex

Essex, the home county to the east of London, has the reputation of being, well, a bit chavvy. But there’s more to Essex than big hair, gaudy bling, fake tans, assisted tits and impossibly white tombstone teeth – and that’s just the men. Beyond the faceless towns of the commuter belt, Essex is a green…

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Bring Out Your Dead

Before the miracle of modern medicine and universal healthcare, life for most was plagued by illness or the fear of it. People croaked in their beds from mundane diseases that today we pop a pill for. Many a cottage stairwell was too narrow for a coffin so some featured a trap door between floors called…

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The Kindness of Strangers

I was surfing through Nextdoor, the local neighbourhood app, and happened upon this message from a resident of the nearby town of Beccles…

Hi everyone, during the pandemic my son put a large sign in my window saying ‘please wave to me’. I am a paraplegic and sit near the window often. The response was phenomenal and I had flowers left on the doorstep and even chocolates through the letterbox. A lot of the same people still wave to me every time they pass and I wanted you all to know that there are lovely people in our community for whom I am very grateful and just how much a wave really cheers me up. Thank you and please don’t stop. I hope I can pay forward to others. I hope you have a happy holiday. Thank you, thank you and thank you again.

Now and again I see or read something that restores my faith in humanity. This was such a time.

Wishing everyone peace and goodwill, whatever Christmas means to you. I’ll leave you with a few random festive images which got me in the festive mood.

  • Festive Feet
  • Stuck Santa
  • A Jolly Cottage Christmas
  • Loddon Christmas Tree
  • Norwich at Christmas
  • Carnaby Street Christmas Lights
  • Half-Way to Heaven
  • Broadwick Soho
  • Festive Blooms

Peter Pan, Absolutely Fabulous

It’s Christmas so it must be pantomime time, and panto doesn’t get any more lavish and camp than the annual festive frolic at the London Palladium. Each year the show just gets bigger and better, brasher and trashier, cross-dressed in glitter, sequins and smut. Once again, all our senses were assaulted; the perfect antidote to the drizzle of a dull December and a darkening world.

This year’s extravaganza is a panto mainstay – the evergreen Peter Pan, but not quite as Disney, or indeed JM Barrie, imagined it. Starring Ab Fab’s Jennifer Saunders as Captain Hook and the matchless Julian Clary mincing on as Seaman Smee, the cast also includes Palladium regulars Paul Zerdin, Nigel Havers, Gary Wilmot, and the simply wonderful Rob Madge as Fairy Tink who made us laugh and cry in his autobiographic tale My Son’s a Queer (But What Can You Do?).

This year’s offering struck a more poignant note, dedicated as it was to the late Paul O’Grady, who sparred with Julian Clary on the Palladium stage a number of times as his alter-ego, Lily Savage.

Naturally, Julian steals every scene he’s in with one outrageous costume after another and all the best gags – a tsunami of filth. Absolutely fabulous.