Oo-er, Missus

Most_PopularLet’s face it, the days between Christmas and New Year can be a bit of a damp squib. Unless you’ve been forced onto the tills by the hordes of hysterical bargain hunters flashing the plastic, it’s a time to tread water. The entire western world is stuck between the over-bloated, over-indulgent and sometimes over-wrought Noel (a time when suicides soar) and the over-bloated, over-indulgent and sometimes over-wrought New Year’s knees-up (the most popular time to get dumped). Even the desk-bound know that it’s the graveyard slot with only the filing to do.

Sadly, Liam and I both succumbed to the dreaded festive lurgy. Our inter-feast days were spent on the sofa under a duvet with a keg of Lemsip and a crate of Kleenex extra absorbent. Sadly, there were no hide-the-sausage shenanigans either: we had neither the energy nor inclination for a furtive fumble beneath the eiderdown. Still, I did manage to get my stiff little digits moving and before long I was fingering the internet with gusto, a willy-nilly and desperate attempt to amuse myself. Judging by Perking the Pansies, I wasn’t the only one who swallowed the boredom pill. And what a fruity lot the pansy readers were. On 28th December, four out of the eight most popular posts (as revealed by my sidebar) featured racy images. The lean, semi-naked scaffolder was particularly popular. I hope my thrill-seeking surfers weren’t too disappointed by what they actually found. To quote the late, great Frankie Howerd, Oo-er, Missus.

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New Year for Old Farts

We’re getting too long in the tooth for this exhausting New Year malarkey. The days are long gone when we would queue up in the rain, squeezed into sequinned hot pants outside some over-priced sleazy boyz club to take recreational drugs and shake our booties into the wee small hours, surrounded by half-naked sweaty men in tight jeans wrapped in fur and tattoos. Come to think of it, it doesn’t sound that bad at all. Sadly, the spirit is willing but the flesh is oh, so weak. Such unfettered decadence is best left to the young bucks who bring up the rear with stamina and a little lovin’ in mind. No, for us, it was a quick bite in town then back home to a warm hearth, Graham Norton and a bottle of bubbly, all capped off with the South Bank fireworks courtesy of impossibly blond London Mayor, Boris Johnson (a wolf in a golden fleece if ever there was one), Vodafone and good old Auntie Beeb. And fabulous pyrotechnics they were too. It’s always good to bring in the new year with a bang don’t you think?

2013 in Review

Perking the Pansies recovered from a difficult birth at the murderous hands of the Turkish censors, thrived through the terrible twos and survived the transitional threes, ending the year with 60,000 hits for the last twelve months. Thank you to everyone and anyone who’s passed by and glanced at my random witterings. Most blogs burn out after two years so I must be living on borrowed time.

As the sun sets on 2013, in the best Hogmanay tradition, I give you the year’s top ten – a pick ‘n’mix treat of bum cleavage, Turks at the barricades, a shot in the arm, a tender coming out story, a sexy rugger bugger, a book to send you to sleep, an old-time boozer, an olive tree planted in a foreign field and a scratched itch.

Image courtesy of Occupy Gezi on Facebook.
One for the Ladies
The Art of Blogging at St Margaret’s Church of Art
Gareth Thomas likes Good Read
Best of Perking the Pansies Vol Two
Queen’s Head, Chelsea
Tulip Fields of Turkey
Image Courtesy of the Financial Times
Tom’s Posing Pouch

Plumber’s Bum

It was the picture wot won it.

Turkey Troubles

A revolution in the making?

Tom Daley: Something I Want to Say

Saying it before someone said it for him.

Gareth Thomas, Dancing on Ice Drama

Who said ice-prancing rugger buggers can’t read?

Life in the Old Blog Yet

With thanks to the nice people at WordPress who featured me on one of their big hitting sites.

Turkey, Surviving the Expats – Out Now!

Keeping me out the workhouse.

God Save the Queen’s Head

A Chelsea classic and old watering hole of mine.

From Little Acorns...

A small corner of Turkey that is forever John.

Seven Year Itch

A soppy tale from Liam.

Turkey, Who Will Blink First?

And we all know who did in the end, don’t we?

For some inexplicable reason, this was the most popular image of 2013, featured in Let’s Hear it for the Brides.

Nine Elms
The Thames at Nine Elms

And I shouldn’t forget the perennial favourites from previous years that keep coming back again and again like a bad case of thrush.

Gran Canaria Sex Emporium

Proving that ‘sex’ really is the most searched for word on Google.

Now That’s What I Call Old

A humble little post about a spectacular discovery in eastern Turkey that just keeps on giving while the archaeologists keep on digging  – 8,000 hits and climbing. Who would have thought?

Expat Glossary

Oft quoted and oft plagiarised (and not always with a credit, tut tut)

Goodbye to the Turkish Living Forum

The few spoiling it for the many. A real shame.

Turkey Street RecliningAnd what of 2014? All I know is that Turkey Street, Jack and Liam move to Bodrum will be out early in the year. Will it be as successful as the first one? Who knows? Not me. Whatever happens, come rain or shine, a happy and prosperous year to all my pansy fans. Thank you for staying the course and for your remarkable support. I’m touched but then, I have been for years.

Tis The Season to be Jolly

Perking the Pansies is off-air for the Yuletide. Liam and I are heading to the Smoke for a jolly slice of family life with all the calorific trimmings. But before we head south to the big city, I’d like to take this opportunity to wish everyone, believers and non-believers alike, a season of peace and goodwill. Whatever Christmas means to you, be happy and enjoy.

Seasons Greeting from Jack Scott 2013
…as the enterprising Chinese say (well, they probably don’t, but they do make make a shilling or two at this time of year and good luck to ’em). And, of course, I got the translation from Google and so it could say ‘Mao is Chairman of the Board’ for all I know.

Bah! Humbug!

bah humbug1I’m no scrooge, really I’m not. The piggy bank may have dropped a few pounds since my days as a senior bean counter, shuffling a pile of papers from one side of my desk to the other then back again, but we can still afford to spend a farthing or two on our nearest and dearest. We just can’t thrash the plastic to make the grand gesture any more. Britain may be finally emerging from the longest and deepest recession since the Great Depression but our days of austerity are permanent (that is, unless Liam’s Lotto numbers come up). It’s fine. We don’t mind. It’s our choice. Let’s face it, I could always stop mucking about with this writing lark and get a proper job.

Anyway, don’t you think festive fever is a bit OTT these days? I’m not one of those old farts down the pub who will bore you with their sad Victorian tales of home-sewn Christmas stockings stuffed with two walnuts and a satsuma – very A Christmas Carol.  No, I got a Dalek suit, a Hot Wheels racing set, an action man with all the butch accessories and enough Dinky toys to run Port Talbot (admit it, you thought I played with Barbie dolls, didn’t you?). It just the whole commercial juggernaut seems to start earlier and earlier and by the time the baby Jesus pops out, I’m ready to chuck my lot in with the Devil. That’s why I just love this glorious ad from posh Knightsbridge department store, Harvey Nichols (superior by far to their more famous neighbour, Harrods, only spitting distance away). It’s a breath of fresh air. 

The video was first picked up by the lovely Aussie Kym at Gidday from the UK.  Ta!

Stripping for the Cause

RowersMany moons ago, I nailed my colours to the mast about the scourge of homophobia, particularly hate crime and bullying in schools. I even banged on about it on the wireless when I did a My Pride Life gig on Future Radio. It still goes on, of course. Hardly a day passes when I don’t hear about some pond life picking on the defenceless. Mercifully, I’m not a lone voice in the wilderness. Who listens to me anyway? There are loads of splendid organisations, charities and talented individuals doing their bit. And, if the message of hope is blended with a little harmless titillation, then that gets my vote every time.

Cue the cute rowers from Warwick University stripping for the cause. Oh, to be the cox.

I thought I might take my clothes off in public to raise a few farthings for the cause but I fear people would only pay me to put them back on again.

Schmooze It or Loose It

jack-the-hack-_writingtipsJack’s last word on blogging at the Displaced Nation.

FACT: most blogs run out of steam after two years. So, giving your blog legs will keep it in the race for longer. Here’s how.

More…

Only in Norwich

Only in Norwich

RiverWensum

Image courtesy of Daniel Tink at Scenicnorfolk

Liam answered the door of our old weaver’s cottage to a little middle-aged man wearing a bucket hat, wax jacket and supermarket denim. “Sorry to disturb ya, mate,” he said, “Been visitin’ me old girl (at the adjacent granny flats) and I’m goin’ fishin’ later but I forgot me worms. Can I dig some outta ya flower bed? Won’t make a mess, promise.” At the time I was enjoying a cuppa and thumbing through a copy of our local rag, the Eastern Daily Press (the most popular morning regional newspaper in the country, apparently). The front page headline was:

“Farmer Killed by Bull”

Only in Norwich.

A Message from My Publisher

Summertime Publishing December Offers

Summertime Publishing has reduced the Kindle edition of five of its most popular titles to $3.99 (Amazon.com) and £2.99 (Amazon.co.uk) during December only. This represents a saving of between 25% and 50% on the list price (depending on the title). It’s a great chance to pick up a selected number of Summertime’s best e-Books in time for Christmas.

For more information, click here.

Tom Daley: Something I Want to Say

tom-daley-speedo

Yesterday, the British champion diver, Tom Daley, posted a simple video message on YouTube to tell the world that he was in a relationship with a man and that he was very happy. Tom was a poster boy for the Olympic Team. His buff, pool-trained torso (naked save for the tiniest and tightest Speedos) was plastered everywhere. Even at the tender age of 19, Tom is clearly well aware of his image and public persona. In our celebrity-obsessed world, I assume that he hopes this will sustain him long after the diving career has dried up. I hope so too. I also assume that this very public confession was his own idea. It was brave but was it also foolish? If his agent/manager/PR team had known in advance, I have no doubt they would have cautioned him against it. The revelation has unleashed a tidal wave of poison from the tweeting pond life. This was to be expected. Personally, I applaud his candour and rather think that his popularity will be enhanced by it.  His disclosure sends out a message of hope to young people everywhere that it’s ok to be gay. And for this, Tom deserves a pot of gold medals.

Tom Daley in his own words…