Biker Border!

Baking hot in London today. So took Gertie for a spin on the bike- she's a natural biker!

The Genius Gert!

I was woken suddenly this morning by a frantic phonecall from QR. "Boo I've lost Gertie, she's completely disappeared". I leapt out of bed, mistakingly putting on my "I love Birds T-shirt!" pulled my jeans on (no boxers commando style!) and bolted out of the door on a sprint to the park to find our three month old Gertie and comfort poor QR.

But as soon as I got out of the flat who do I find scratching at the door...Gertie! She had managed to cross three roads, and find her way home about a quarter of a mile away! She was very happy to see me but not half as happy as QR when I phoned her with the news. QR had gone to stand with a couple of other dog walkers and we reckon that Gertie just hadn't spotted where she was, had panicked and ran off back home.

I know most parents think it -but we both think our Gertie is somewhat of a little genius!

Phew! It could have been an awful start to QRs' birthday!

On the other hand my bike makes me smile.....

I Can't STRESS it Enough!

Phew....!

What a few weeks Boo's had of it! I've never thought of myself as someone who gets stressed easily... although I admit I do worry if I'm not worrying about something or other. But when it comes to real heavy stress I've recently really had my fill of it.

Stress is a killer. It's all consuming. It's like a beast that feeds on itself- a downward never ending spiral. I've been having sleepless nights, I'm fraught and over emotional, paranoid, my nails are bitten down to the quick, I'm listless and just wanna wrap myself up in my quilt and hideaway.

I keep reminding myself of my friend who I know through work, he suffered so badly with stress that he went off sick, his body went into crisis through diabetes and he ended up having his leg amputated. The last time I saw him he pleaded with me to not ever allow work to stress me out- because it is no way worth it.

Rationally ofcourse it all seems so futile and stupid to be feeling so distressed about something as meaningless as work. I tell myself constantly to stop stressing- it's only a job. I know I have to let go, give up the control I'm so used to and let the powers that be do whatever it is they want to do. It's a painful process but it's time for me to move on and do something else.

I've given myself a target of three months to find another job. That way I've got a light at the end of the tunnel and can pull back. I'm going to do as little as possible at work and enjoy the summer with the lovely QR and Gertie. QR has been my rock and has provided me with sage advice which hasn't always been easy to hear but has always been bang on.

Life really is too short. I need to focus on what is good in my life and stop wasting my energy on futile battles. Boo...pull yourself together!!

Stress.... please don't let the beast get to you!

Mega Gertz!

What a few weeks! Stress city at work, poor QR's had a hard time of it, endless visits from friends... and sleepless nights full of angst. I'm totally exhausted...

BUT...it it all somehow feels so much better when I wake up to soft warm cuddles from our precious Gertie...she has her booster jabs tomorrow and I can't wait to take her out exploring!

Marriage...I do ...no I don't...

Boo's very much looking forward to going to the CP (Civil Partnership) of some dear friends today who have been together for 20 years. It promises to be a lovely day full of love and sunshine- and there will be a guaranteed knees up later...the Irish don't you just love them!

I have very mixed feelings on the whole marriage/CP concept...it really isn't for me. I get annoyed at the way society seems to view relationships- and it often places more importance on the ones who are married. (Judge Judy's catchphrase seems to be "Why are you not married??") One of the first questions people would ask about QR's ex- relationship was "were they married?" I really don't see that it makes any difference either way. I am always bothered by the question on monitoring forms- single or married? ...well I'm neither!

I know that for some people making a public statement about your shared love and betrothing yourself to another and celebrating that betrothal is important. To some it's about religeon and the church. To some it's about security. To some it's about having a legally binding document to ensure your assets are safely shared and you have legal rights should anything happen to the other. To others it's a statement about equality (although we still can't officially get "married"- we are allowed a civil partnership in this country instead). To others it's about having a damn good party...and bloody good on them all. They have my absolute, complete support and love.

But to me each day I wake up and choose to be with my girlfriend is a statement of my love for her. To me the proactive everyday choice to be with her speaks more about my love then being legally bound to her. I don't want a legally binding document in my relationship, I don't want the state involved in my relationship...

Don't get me wrong- I love weddings and CPs- so I'm excedingly grateful that not everyone thinks like me! I'm off to don my suit and tie and party here I come...

Love, Peace and Happiness to all- married or not!

"WORK"- it's a four letter word!

Boo's work is extremely stressful at the moment. There are a ton of politics going on combined with a load of egos which really isn't a great combination. The powers that be seem to be making judgements based on no evidence and want to severely cut our funding which will have a catastrophic effect on 100's of lives.

Over the last couple of years we've turned the service completely around - we now have an excellent outreach support service which literally helps save older vulnerable people's lives. The staff have a keen work ethic and my management team are just about the best you could ever hope to have...it's all at risk and Boo's finding coping difficult. I feel so responsible for the service I manage, for the 25 staff and for the 350 older vulnerable older people we support.

I admit that I am a total control freak (I kind of have to be)- but having very little control about the future of the service right now is almost unbearable. I tell myself- "it's only a job", and try and pull back- but one of the main reasons why we've managed to make it something so special and of such high quality is because we have put our hearts and souls into it 100%

I know my boundaries and limit my public stress and anxieties- putting on a brave face for the others but it saddens me so- I could cry. I know I have to look after myself and pull back but I'm not finding it that easy to do.

It could go either way right now- and not knowing is fairly tormenting.

Boo's Outing...

Boo had a lovely day trip today- went to the coast (Seven Sisters Country Park) with a dear friend. The sun was scorching- so dipping my toes in the sea was bliss. Seeing the horizon and breathing the fresh sea and sun soaked air was delightful- Boo needed to as work has been mighty stressful and heavy of late.

Boo was very naughty and had a cream tea- for some of you who may not know; a cream tea is something that us English like to indulge in when on a country outing. It consists of a scone, strawberry jam, lashings of clotted cream and a pot of English tea- yum!

Flowers are so sexual don't you think?

I'll be my flower's bee when she comes over for dinner later!

Gertie will have loads of beautiful trees to wee by!

Gertie Lillian BomBom

Here she is!

QR andI have taken the plunge and are now the proud parents of Gertie. We fell totally in love with her today- she's a three week old Border Terrier. At the moment she's with her mom (who's totally adorable) and her two sisters and three brothers out in the countryside. It was like being in a different world- all very Hoorah Henry. Our Gertrude is very posh and currently residing at some stables, her dad is a three times champion winner (not sure of what!)

She gets to live in the big smoke with us in a few weeks, and I can't wait!

Last Spanish Sunset...

Last for Boo for a while anyway... back to work tomorrow...fully charged and ready for anything!

Q's and Boo's Great Escape!

Postcards from the Edge...

No! This is not Boo & QR!

Lovely to exchange my army boots for sandals!

Love a bit of rock exploring...

Here we are in Spain- staying in my mom's apartment having made "The Great Escape". QR really needed a break- some "kicking back" and "doing nothing" time (See her blog for more details). I'm trying (very I'm told!) to stay out of her face and behave myself- we'll see!

As for Boo- well I'm heading for a very stressful time in my work. I love my job- I manage a support service for 350 vulnerable elders- I have a staff team of 30 and the contract has just been given to a different company. We'll all get taken over to the new company but you can bet that there will be massive cost saving exercises and little if no autonomy. I'm hoping that it won't affect the service but I do feel responsible for the service users and staff.

So here I am in Spain charging up my batteries ready for the many steep climbs ahead.

Onwards and Upwards! (can't wait to get the puppy mid May I hope)

BOO WHO?!

Someone remarked the other day that over the years I had been given a large number of nicknames and yes indeed they were right...

* Boo (not sure where it came from but might be cos I cry so easily at all things soppy!)
*My Boo (when she's being affectionate)
*Wookie
* Fin (derived from my hair cut)
*Finbar Wookie (combination of the above)
*The Hoff (when I drive my black sports car in my biker's jacket!!- my car's called Kit!)
*Doll Nicoletta (said in an Italian accent)
*Pigeonie
* Doll Pigeonie
*Brum Brum (cos of where I'm from and cos I ride a motorbike)
*Farty-pants (afraid very true observation)
*windy-miller (as above!!)
*Pyramid Tits! (that one was quite a while back!!)
*Nipples ( kinda rhymes with my surname actually)
*Gorjus (well at least someone had good taste and excellent eye sight!)
*Fluffy Butch (spose I am)
*Pig (from children's programme Pipkins and coming from Brummie land- and perhaps slightly due to being a windy miller!)
*Dirty Girty- (yep that's me!)
*Booo Booo Boooo Booooooooooo (usually when my bird wants something!!)
*Studly from Dudley (oh yes and very proud of it!)
* The stud (OK! You got me- I call myself that!)
*Donkey cock! (long story but was approached by a woman who asked if I fancied a fuck as I looked like I had a cock the size of a donkey!!)
*Supadyke (cos I saved a woman from drowning)


I love my nicknames- some more than others! So come on tell me what some of yours are and why?!! Share please do.......

Graffiti- it's not all cocks and balls!

I love the word GRAFFITI- originates from the Greek "graphein" meaning "to write". Graffiti (graffito) a drawing or message on a flat surface- originally referred to marks found on ancient Roman architecture, found on Hadrian's wall etc. Now found everywhere and some of it bloody brilliant!

Cock-a-Doodle!

What is it with Cocks?! They're absolutely everywhere!!

Do you like the one above? Lovingly doodled outside my mom's apartment in Spain. Proving to be truly multi-national- the doodled cock- found by Boo across Europe, the States, South Africa in fact I'm sure they're displayed across all continents.

They're in library books, on blogs (mine- see above!!!), walls, houses, bus shelters, boats, planes, cars, buses, paving slabs, coach stations, airports, tins of beans, carved into trees, cacti, benches etc etc!!

They come (no pun intended!) in all shapes and sizes; with or without balls, for detail you can add hairs, a helmet, if you're really arty you can add wrinkles or veins, and for that extra touch add a dotted line coming (whoops done it again!) out of the top!

I personally prefer the cunt myself. In fact I'm going to start a cunt revolution. Yes Boo is going to start travelling the continents with the sole aim of covering the world with cunts! I'll draw small ones, big ones, hairy ones, pink & purple ones, ones with a Brazilian, ones that look like flowers, ones that look like walnuts (don't ask!!!)

Pass me that spray can...and VIVA LA CUNT!

Doggy names...

Apologies for not being around for a while but Boo has been busy with an array of major life events...(mainly revolving around QR- QR's story to tell and sure she will) and I also haven't been able to access a PC other than my work one. But I'm back with new laptop on knee and really looking forward to getting stuck into Blogland once again.

QR and I are going to be undertaking a major commitment- we're getting a puppy. We're planning on getting a Border Terrier sometime around mid May I hope. I'm really excited!

I know we won't think of a suitable name for he or she until we meet her or him but any suggestions would be greatly welcomed!

So far I have:

Gary, Walter, Lilly, Gracie, John, Mike, Dave, Ethel, Hilda, Mildred, Egbert, Wilfred, Percy, Edna, Norman, Sid, BomBom, William, Dennis, Bertie, Trevor, Florence, Gertrude, Winnie, Wallie, Truman, Elsie, Martina, Henry...

Jaconelli's lemon top

I loved staying at my nana and Jack's when I was a kid. They lived in Scarborough on the North Yorkshire coast. I felt so safe and looked after there in her and my granddad Jack's little house. They had a horrible yappy old Chiuaua dog called Bambi- I used to put Marmite on his tongue as revenge when it snapped at me for sitting on his chair- I resisted using the English mustard and chilli powder but was tempted many a time!

My granddad Jack would sit me on his shoulders and take me on a tour of the magic monkey trees in the local cemetry- if I touched one I'd get extra powers (think that's where I got my Supadyke strength from!) We'd go to the wishing well where I'd sneak tuppances into my pocket that someone else had thrown in! Well...they'd already had their wish!

I got friendly with the donkey man and used to walk the donkeys up and down the beach, I'd go back and feed the chimps he had in a shed in his garden. The poor things -were always doped up to the eyeballs- my favourite Jimmy used to wear a red baseball cap and a yellow T-shirt. Jimmy was very popular with the tourists who'd pay extortionate amounts to have their pictures taken with him.

I loved Jaconelli's lemon top icecream, hot waffles from the Corner Cafe covered in syrup and cream, fish and chips with extra mushy peas, my favourite shop was the joke shop. I'd save my pocket money and wishing well money and buy stink bombs and let them off in the local launderette!

Granddad Jack would bring back crabs in a pot every Friday and most Saturdays me and my brother woud have crab races in the back yard! I'd usually win cos bruv never did figure out they ran sideways!

Nana was quite eccentric- she ran a dating agency, was a spiritualist who could talk with the dead, baked cakes (badly), and had a market stall that as far as I can remember never had anything on it for sale. She kept a massive sweet tin hidden at the top of the cellar stairs and me and bruv would dare each other to go grab a sweet out of it and risk the cellar ghost!

Nana and Jack are sadly both gone from this world- but my wonderful memories live on. I love going back to Scarborough more than anything- I'm that naughty mischeivous kid all over again. Unfortunately the joke shop's now a fishing tackle shop, and thankfully the poor chimps have gone. But I still get my Jaconelli's lemon top, dip my feet in the freezing sea and remember days gone by...

I'll be back...a bit like my BELLY!

Sorry Boo has not been able to do any new posts or read any of your blogs and I'm really missing Blogland. I haven't had access to a PC (work one is a no-no!) Hopefully normal service will resume once my PC is sorted on Friday by a lovely expert.

Decided to have a hool-a-hoop championship on my Wii the other day, good job there were no hidden cameras! My hips are now fucked! But it was worrying me that lately when I lie on my back on the sofa the ceiling seems to be getting lower. When I lie in bed I have a kind of high pitched tent erect around me. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I think I'm cuddling my girlfriend. It is in fact my BELLY I'm cuddling. My BELLY that's inching nearer toward the ceiling and my BELLY that is the central pole in mybed tent!

Yes- it's time to sort it out and de-bellify...anyone fancy a hool-a-hoop competition?! Good job it's a virtual hoop as not sure I'd get it over my BELLY!

(No... I'm not pregnant she's been wearing her gloves ha! ha! ha!!)

A Wee Pain!

Going to the loo...

for some most of you not a problem...but for Boo it's often a bloody nightmare! Some of the worse toilets include; motorway service stations, bus stations, airports, train stations, department stores...in fact the list is endless...but the worse ones are anywhere that has a queue...

Boy do I have some toilet tales to tell...like the time I went to the toilet in a casino in the Bahamas and was marched out by a guard wth a gun held to my head! Like the time I had three attendants try and break down the cubicle door whilst I shouted for help and for them to leave me alone (I was petrified). Like the time when a woman ran out screaming and fetched two bartenders to come and get me out, she then threatened to spit at me.

Yes, I can honestly say that going to the toilet has certainly not been easy for Boo!

And what has caused these people to act in such a manner? They think I'm in the wrong toilet and that I should be in the mens'.

These experiences though, I'm loathed to admit it have taken their toll over the years and having to go the toilet in a public space can often cause me a great deal of trauma and distress. I find that I now always hum or sing loudly upon entry, I try and bring a companion along with me so I can chat with her and be seen as female. I plan when I will go and where and I avoid going at any costs if I possibly can.

I'm now 40. And I know I should think "what the fuck" and not give a damn. But it somehow makes me feel so vulnerable and exposed and I've been trying to unpick the reasons why.

I am a very out butch and proud dyke who feels fucking brilliant about who I am. This toilet business is niggling me.

Perhaps us poor butches who get this grief could agree to carry some business cards to hand out to the dum dums that make us feel so oppressed. Perhaps they could say something like "Butch and Proud" any suggestions?

After all Boo just wants to wee in Peace!

HELP!

I've had a fantastic Christmas! I did however, wish myself to be an octopus (as often felt like I've needed 8 arms...... now that WOULD make me popular with the girlies!!). Certainly wouldn't wish to be this poor octopussy though. I came across her in Spain on a cliff top.

Anyways, I need YOUR help! I have promised my wonderful girlfriend 12 surprises for New Years Eve. I have a couple of ideas but would very much welcome any suggestions- no matter how obscure or bizarre.

Ta very much!

Boo X

Thank You!

To Each and Everyone...

I look forward to continuing to read you, share with you, laugh with you and I Thank You all for the many hours of enjoyment, enlightenment and education you've given me!

Peace and Happiness

Big Love

Butch Boo

X

Let it Snow...Let it Snow...Let it Snow...!

My Girlfriend and I arrived- Iceland 4am. It took a while for us to land due to freak blizzard conditions. Upon arrival we popped to the loo, she had a few fags in a smoking booth thingy and when we left the airport we soon discovered we were stranded!

The last bus had gone, and there we were ... it was minus 15c 4am and the worst blizzard they had had for years ! I was in seventh heaven!!

We managed to get a snow dredger/taxi thingy in the end - there was no road to be seen, we might not be able to get through to town and we were the only vehicle.. I was like a kid this was pure adventure! The Girlfriend wasn't quite as excited as me!!! (quite the opposite infact!!)

I hope you like the pics it was like being in a moving postcard- beautiful.

I SO want it to snow here. Not quite the same in London though!!

A Wheely Great Experience!

Got that "Christmas" feeling the other day. It was THE most wonderful wintery sunshiney of days. Went to Winter Wonderland in HydePark and got to watch the sunset from this wheel.

Lucky Boo...

Serpentine Lake- Hyde Park

Duck Feeding- Serpentine

Sunset over City of London

The Ex Factor

I'm in love. Deeply so. I've learnt so much about myself in such a short space of time...it's amazing!

It's not been easy though....due to the Ex Factor.

The Ex.

The Ex she had a 25 year relationship with. The Ex she grew up with. The Ex she had lived with throughout the whole of her adult life. The Ex who she will always be joined at the heart with. The Ex who has told her she can come back to in two years time if she wants. The Ex who expected to be the one who will pick her up from the hospital after her operation.

The Ex who is the protector, the brother, the father, the best friend...

The Ex.

It's been hard...it's getting less hard...my jealousy and insecurity is mostly now at an acceptable level.

I still get pissed off at things...like when he phones to check my party is OK and she's safe (wonder if he'd do that if I were a male?) like how he calls her "love" when he speaks to her like he's always done. Like how his family are her family and I'm the big secret and always will be.

But I think that's what has made us so incredibly strong and solid...it not being easy.

I can't imagine being with someone for 25 years. I can't imagine what on Earth it must feel like to no longer be with them. It must be like having to try and walk again after forgetting how to.

My girlfriend is the strongest, most beautiful, resiliant and courageous woman I have ever and am likely ever to meet.

I' m so very very lucky.

The Ex Factor...it has taught me a lot and continues to do so.

I had a dream....

I love my dreams!

They are totally random and always bizarre.
Because of my dreams I wake up in differing emotional states almost everyday. Most of them make me giggle, some of them make me feel confused, some angry, some sad, and Saturday's dream I woke up suffering from horrendous guilt until I remembered the dream in its' entirety.
I was at a festival- the sun was shining and I was happily strolling around the fields with a woman (unidentifiable). We were holding hands and laughing together and I felt a sense of euphoria. There was the smell of marijuana intermingled with incense.
I felt a sense of panic though as the festival was drawing to an end. The woman I was with was not my girlfriend- I was having an affair. What would I tell my girlfriend? How could I do such a thing to her? How dare I?!
I got into the car I was driving, glanced into the mirror and it was at that moment I felt a tremendous sense of relief......For I wasn't me....but Justin Lee Collins!!!!!

I told you my dreams were weird!!

(Justin Lee Collins for anyone who doesn't know is a British hairy comedian!)

Phew!!

Happiest of Birthdays Edith!

Edith Kent, the first woman in Britain to be given the same wages as her male colleagues, is 100-years-old today and I wish her the happiest of birthdays.

Edith worked as a welder in a Devonport dockyard in Plymouth during the Second World War. Due to her only being 4 feet 11 inches tall, she was able to crawl inside torpedo tubes (not a job I'd want thank you very much). She spent most of her days inside torpedos welding.

When she started in 1941, she earned £5 6s per week. In 1943, she got a pay rise and earned £6 6s. At the time, a male manual worker earned a lot less £5 8s 6d. This at the time was totally unheard of.

Edith says she is extremely proud of her achievement but also embarrassed by it. She says: "I got the job because my brothers worked at the dockyard and they thought I would be good at it. I was the first woman to work as a welder there. It made me a bit uncomfortable that I was the first woman to earn the same as the men - and in some cases I was earning more than them. All the men I worked with were marvellous and they didn't seem to mind me earning the same. None of them ever dared say it, but I think they knew I was worth as much as them, if not more." I'm sure you were Edith.

In 1942, she took time off work to have her only child and then soon went back to work, leaving the baby to be cared by one of her sisters. Edith continued to work at the dockyard until 1945, when the male workers returned from the war. She then took up a job as a barmaid instead. The Government ran a major campaign at getting women out of the workplace and into the home (namely the kitchen!) to give up their jobs for the returning men.

We tend to think of divorce as a modern phenomenon but after the war had finished the divorce rate was at an all time high of 64%

Edith has celebrated her 100th birthday today with a tea dance at a hotel with 50 family and friends, including her older sister Minna, who is 105.

Edith sure is a pioneer of her time and I think gives true meaning to " Girl Power". We've still got a long way to go but it's thanks to women like Edith who have helped us along the way.

The Angel of the North...

The beauty of this monument never ceases to amaze me. When I stand at its' feet looking up it gives me an eery feeling. I'm reminded of my smallness and insignificance in the world which I find strangely soothing.

Old Boy Johnny T...

In a London back alley there was a mound of dirty old blankets piled high with scabby soup-run sandwiches and a smattering of scavenging pigeons thrown in. Buried beneath was Johnny. A 78 year old man with the kindest steel blue eyes and bushiest eye brows I’d ever seen. I was a street outreach worker, it was 6am and bloody freezing!

Word on the streets was that Johnny had just appeared one night, sat down by the air duct at the back of the multi storey car park and had not moved for seven years.

City workers would pass by and toss the odd coin, soup runs would add to the growing pile of scabby uneaten sandwiches. Johnny’s street neighbour Len would get him his beer and rollies everyday.

We’d come by on our rounds and he’d always have a plastic bag ready for me to sit on “your throne madam” he’d announce. Over the following few weeks we tried everything to get him off the street; the police (couldn’t assist), the mental health teams (couldn’t assist) he wouldn’t be fooled by bribery….we were flummoxed as to what we could do.

He’d talk of days gone by; of his sister how he’d raised her since they were orphaned, how he’d taught her to drive in an army truck and how he’d not seen her since she set sail for Canada years ago. His army days, his days as a door man at a gentleman’s club…but never why he was where he was.

One morning we arrived to find Johnny wasn’t sitting upright with plastic bag in hand. I lifted the blankets to find his face caked in blood, he’d been badly beaten by some “glue-heads” and robbed. He yelled in anger as he was forcibly lifted into the ambulance and told us all to “fuck off and mind our own business”.

He had to have part of a blanket surgically removed from the skin on his legs as it had meshed during his seven years of sitting underneath it. He was discharged after six weeks into a care home. I visited almost daily and lived for those moments. He had my throne-the plastic bag always at the ready for me.

Three days before he died he told me his story. How his wife of 24 years had died of breast cancer, how he’d cared for her until the very end. How after she died the walls of his house started to draw in and he had to escape. How he’d ended up walking the streets of London for hours, found a warm spot sat down and hadn’t moved since.

I miss his stories and his sparkling eyes.

He had the kindest most sensitive of souls did Johnny. I will always carry him in my heart and a plastic bag in my pocket.

If only....

I could be in this boat, being gently rocked by the undulating sea, bask in the sunshine and snooze a dozy snooze....

Definitely think I'm suffering from lack of sunshine syndrome....poor Boo has S.A.D.......where are you sun???

Yummy.....

Winter Sun

My Choice...results are in!

Well the results are in and thanks to the 39 of you who voted.

• Well I'm not gonna get my 40 minute all over body massage cos only 15% of you wanted me to choose this one.
• And tis a terrible shame that I won't get to opt for 40 minutes silence from my girlfriend cos only 17% went for this one.
• Biggest disappointment is I won't get fucked 4 times in 12 hours (well, I might but it was only 28% of you voted for it!)
• Seems like I'm going to meet my girlfriend at midnight under Cleopatra's needle on the River Thames for a surprise! Looking forward to it and am wondering what she has in store for me!
  
  Will keep you posted....

CONGRATULATIONS!

To the US and to the World!

My Mom Wanted A Girl..........

A girly girl.

Not a girl who at 6 kicked, screamed and flat refused to get out of the car to go to ballet and wear a peach tutu. A girl who at 9 locked herself in the bathroom, sat in a cold bath and cried her little heart out cos she didn't want to wear a green lace dress. A girl who had a "girls' world" (life sized plastic woman's head with a drawer for make-up) and liked to melt its' face with matches, cut all its' hair off and bury it in the garden!

A girl who often got called "sonny" but who hated being called sonny cos she was a girl... but not a girly girl.

I'm not transmasculine, I'm not transcending anything or transitioning I'm me Butch Boo.

You see my butchness is the very essence of who I am- of me. I was a baby butch and am now butch the elder (not too much of the elder!)

I was asked to write about what butches do. All I can write about is me... what I do is very much determined by who I am- I'm not butch because of what I do - I do what I do because I'm butch.

I'm strong- oh so strong and can beat most at an arm wrestle. My body language I'm told is butch I sit legs astride and strut. I'm the protector and very much the alpha. I'm told my take on the world is different. I sulk!

There is nothing inherently masculine about objects or clothing or activities- but I like to do and wear the things people generally consider to be "masculine".

I ride a big fuck off motorbike, I wear leathers...... I ooze prowess.

I wear aftershave not perfume, I would rather die than shop in a women's boutique. I like to fix, I like to mend, I like to hold doors open, I like to carry.
I like to be a dare devil- to take risks.

I love my ties, my suits and my army boots.

I love to pin my girlfriend down; to feel "masterful".

I hate being called sir and told I'm in the wrong loos.....I love being told I'm handsome.

My mom wanted a girl....a girly girl.

OK we don't swap make-up tips...but she does get to eye up the bloke's bottoms in their leathers when I take her to the motorbike garage!

My Deer Friend in the North....

Q. What do you call a Deer with no Eyes?
A. No Idea!
Q. What do you call a Deer with no Eyes and no Legs?
A. Still no Idea!!
Q. What do you call a Deer with no Eyes, no Legs and is having sex?
A. Still no Fucking Idea!!!

Wish I was here.....

Instead of sitting in my office........

Best Qualities in a Butch ...Grand Results!

Well I never.....

Surprising results indeed. 28 of you voted...thanks and Boo was shocked to learn that humour was kinda low down there with only 14%

However what shocked me most was that Romance and Farting came in with a joint 7% of the vote!! That sure put the wind up me!

Voted second best quality in a butch was chivalry- yep I do like to hold those doors open for you gals!

And romping in with a whopping 53% of the vote was PROWESS! (and I'm full of it...no really I am!) No real surprise there.

I feel bad cos the other night I was somewhat inebriated and gave a mate a massive lecture on the importance of Prowess with the ladies... they're a right nice person but I was trying to explain that nice is all well and good in a friend or a brother or a sister but most women want prowess in their suitor and the survey confirms my theory.

So despite of my drunkenness I was right!

My Choices....

My beautiful girlfriend gave me a box of 40 choices...think I'll cash in the "fuck you 4 times in 12 hours" when I get back from my holiday.... Yum

I'm a Prude!!

It's something I've known for quite some time and been told often...but I realised when I wrote the last post - that I just couldn't write anything rude!

Don't get me wrong I love porn, reading smut, I'm a randy fucker most of the time and there ain't nothing I wouldn't do in the bedroom, on the floor, in the car, in the park etc etc etc!!

But when it comes to me reading what friends have written about their sexual escapades I get all flustered and feel like a voyeur. It somehow feels wrong to me (just my issue) and I avoid it.

So if I refrain from commenting on certain posts please don't get me wrong it's nothing personal it's just my prudishness getting in the way!

If I don't know you ....well that's a different matter!

Best Bits of My Bird...

It's got to be her eyes...I remember when we were "just gym buddies" . She was laid on the exercise mat- I looked down at her and that very instant the sun caught her eyes. I saw them then properly for the first time- they were pure amber. I've never seen eyes that colour before...or since, they are truly magical.

Her lips, well...they're mesmerising. I love to watch them move when she talks, watch how she blows smoke from them...they draw me in and distract....

But her hands- oh those hands. They are such intelligent hands...so knowing, gentle and delicate yet strong and gripping. I watch how she grips the steering wheel, how she holds her cigarette, how she strokes my thighs...

I remember gently bathing her breasts in a whirlpool bath on holiday and being shocked at how much I loved how they felt and at how I could have stayed bathing them for hours...days even

I will continue my list as haven't gotten to the parts that make me blush most when I think of them......

What are some of your favourite bits? (of your girlfriend of course NOT mine!!)

By the way....Christina was a PELICAN!!!!

An "In Tents" Relationship....

She was all mine. I was the only one she followed. She slept in the crook of my arm and she was my bird.... Christina.

It was hot. I was in a tent in Greece. 2 months....Bliss.

With Christina it was an "on - off" kind of arrangement. Most nights she'd be with me but some nights she'd turn down my offer.

She'd prefer to sleep outside the local fish restaurant on a box.

Just Following Orders.... The Great Tagging Game...

Ze Rulz...
Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.

• Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
• Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
• Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog
  
  Here goes for anyone who is remotely interested...
  
  1. I found a loooong blonde hair protruding from my neck which wasn't there the previous day! How did THAT get there???!! (now carry tweezers round in my pocket- hope I don't forget when I mount any airplane- deadly weapon apparently!!!)
  2. I have a passion for slurping coke froth. You have to be extra quick to get all of it. A tall thin glass with stacks of ice is the best froth maker- has to be glass bottled coke. It reminds me of childhood, sunshine and holidays. (I sulk if it gets poured for me)
  3. My feet are endless victims. I lost all but one toe nail when I went climbing. My heel skin completely dropped off (which my dog ate!! yuk I know!!!) after a 28 mile hike. Only the other day I dropped a glass shower door on my poor foot and spliced it (I was of course drunk!)...loads more feet tales but you get the picture.
  4. I feel incredibly tall with my girlfriend upon my arm (and NO that's not because she's incredibly short!!!)
  5. I love wearing my bike leathers- makes me feel all powerful and butch. But I do look like Darth Vader in a nappy!
  6. I love to put small twigs and things in spiders' webs and watch them have to skillfully cut it out and mend the web
  7. When I was 11 my dad had a bright yellow bat mobile. Exactly like the one in the old batman series (except that one was black). He used to pick me up from school in it and I loved the attention I'd get sitting next to him under the round glass hood!
  
• I've tagged these (apologies if you've been done before)
  http://cloud-line.blogspot.com/
  http://bearsmountain.blogspot.com/
  http://co-grumpygranny.blogspot.com/
  http://benchpics.blogspot.com/
  http://enchantedglimpses.blogspot.com/
  http://have-the-last-word.blogspot.com/
  http://dorothysurrenders.blogspot.com/
  

Butch n Dyke ramblings...

Apparently the word "Butch" originated during the 1890's and referred to the female butchers who were big and strong and considered to be "hard fisted women of the people". Anyone heard anything different?

There are loads of theories as to the word "Dyke"- some say it came from 67AD during the reign of Boudicca Celtic queen. She led a revolt against the Roman Empire and was seen as a woman of great power and threat and given the title Dyke- "the powerful one"

Another theory is that it derives from the word "Dike" a French word meaning "men's' clothes".

Or it could have come from another meaning of the word "Dike" meaning to overdress to "be diked out" Now known as Decked out.

It would seem the mayor of Lesbos has rather taken against women calling themselves Lesbian- as his people are now too embarassed to call themselves lesbian also....Shame!

Went to see the Hadrian exhibition the other day at the Bristish museum...he was one of the most influencial and most feared rulers of all time and a raging puff- which I was really pleased to learn! They often seem to forget that little point don't they.....

Told you life was full of sunshine...

Last Poll...Two thumb or Not Two Thumb....

Thanks to all of you who took part in the last poll-"What would my Bird Benefit From Most"

Votes were overwhelmingly in favour of thumbs up bum rather than thumb up bum or neither....I will keep you informed as to the course of action taken.....!!

Please see latest poll....Ta

another KD treat for you...

It's Pants!

Sorry but Boo needs a rant.... I feel like I'm getting incredibly old as I don't quite understand things...like....

Why are blokes going around with their hands down their pants holding their willies??! I kind of thought- "oh well never mind it's just a thing the kids do" but yesterday I passed a man in his late 30's his hand down pants holding onto his little weener! I just don't get it- is it meant to look hard? Ain't that the thing toddlers do?

Also what's all this trousers hanging business- one fella the other day could hardly get onto the bus as his trousers were almost down to his ankles and the whole busload of peops was laughing... cool?! I think not!

And what's this wearing sunglasses hanging off your chin, one leg of your trousers rolled up and a sun visor on the back of your head up-side-down and an afro comb sticking out of the side of your head....??????

Yep. I just have to face it...I'm getting old!

Some of My Favourite Groups....

• A Bed of Oysters
• A Boogle of Weasels
• A Cete of Badgers
• An Exaltation of Skylarks
• A Farrow of Piglets
• A Labour of Moles
• A Murder of Crows
• A Parliament of Owls
• A Pod of Dolphins
• A Romp of Otters
• A Skulk of Foxes
• A Smack of Jellyfish
• A Sounder of Boars
• A String of Ponies
• A Trip of Goats

The Ring Around Uranus!!!

Life sure is full of sunshine...

Slugs, Snails & Puppy Dogs' Tails...

Some sluggish facts !

Slugs are owed much more respect:

• They have shells! Ok most are inside and offer miniscule protection but they do have shells, along with a heart, lung and kidneys.
• Apparently if you boil three in milk and swallow whole you can cure TB!
• They are hermaphrodites and can fertilise themselves. They do this by coiling their corkscrew penises around each other to exchange sperm. Trouble is though that they often get tangled up with their partners and are forced to gnaw each others' penises off! This then makes both slugs effectively bio female and remain so evermore.

So before you salt one- think about what the poor buggers have already been through please!

What a Day!!

Woke up contented and snug with my arms wrapped around my beautiful girlfriend.

After snogs and breakfast I entered into the most amazing day filled with neon blue sky and the sun shining through reddened leaves.


Walked into work along the magical river and took these four pics....

Path to Pylon!

Web design

It's one of those "on top of the world days!"

Loads of this today...

Running low on it at the moment...

Hers n Hers

Hers n Hers

Taxi Dermy

I like to shut the divide when she starts going on in the back!!!

I'll be your bee!

Spud Heart

you know who you are...

Baby Boo...

The Love Birds

Winter Thames

Just thinking.......

Over the Edge

Autumn...

Happy Autumn!

Autumn

Sky's the limit....

That's it girls.....this way!

Follow me....

Some of the jobs I'd love to do...

• paramedic on bike
• bird handler (feathered or human variety)
• helicopter pilot
• pyrotechnic
• rubbish collector
• sewer fat cleanser
• National Park ranger
• sunbather
• life guard (on nudist women's beach)
• Fire fighter
• Supadyke (cape and powertool belt)
• Lumberjack
• Massage receiver
• Nature photographer
• Food critic
• anthropologist
• Motorcycle instructor
• CEO
• Professor (though not have to do any work)
• Mountain rescue
• Sex toy trier and examiner
• Dog walker

I wish I was a Pyrotechnic...

I LOVE FIREWORKS!

I can't wait until Springtime

I really can't wait! I've got the feeling that this Winter is going to be extra dark and extra dense. What I do love is donning my leather riding gear (although I do look like Darth Vader in a nappy!) What I hate is having to stay off the motorbike on icey days (I didn't do this last Winter and ending up on my arse!- Neither cool nor clever!)

Anyways, every Spring for the last 12 years I've fucked off to Valencia for the Fallas.

One solid week in March the Spanish celebrate the Fiesta of the Fallas ("fire stick"). It's been going since 1497 and started when carpenters toiling through the Winter would extend their working days by using a lamp made of candles (called a "parot"). Upon the arrival of Spring the lamps would no longer be needed and the carpenters would celebrate by taking the parots into the street and burn disused wood. Soon whole villages would bring their old items out for burning and hence was born the Fallas Fiesta.

I go to Denia (lucky to have my ex-pat mom there- better than Brum!) 12 areas in the town spend a whole year building a Fallas. They are made out of wood and papier mache and are the size of an 8 story block of flats. The effiges are then judged on which one is the best- on merits of most artistic, best sattire, best constructed etc.

Post fire fallas

Making sure that onlookers and buildings don't set alight the firefighters spray everything- including my backside it transpired!

If you love Spring, fires and fireworks get your arse over to Valencia next March.

Makes me feel alive!

Fallas Fire

The sight of a Fallas on fire is amazing. They are covered in fire crackers, the heat is immense. Crowds push back to avoid the heat and the spray from the fire fighters.
I get so excited I jump up and down like a kid!

Pre lit Fallas

Here's a Fallas from last year- think this came in at 3rd. Every detail is so intracate- a real shame to burn it.

Flower Procession- The Fallas

There's a big flower procession and everyone comes from miles around. Bands are playing, firecrackers going off in the background- one massive celebration of Springtime.

Hidden Hackney...

Hidden Hackney...

Hidden Hackney...

Hidden Hackney...

Hidden Hackney...

Hidden Hackney Treasures

Flapper bathing after his Icelandic expedition...

The adventures of flapper.....

Flapper is a bossy little so and so. He always has to be the one in charge- I just let him think he's the boss! Here he is at a bus stop in Iceland. He insisted we wait for a bus in -15c and trecherous blizzards.

A Nobody

Leaning on a fence, legs drained of strength
Dirt tattooed, engraved on her skin
Body mere skeleton- thinner than thin
Who she is, doesn't remember
For she doesn't know
Who she was disappeared a long time ago
People walk by, ignore or just pity
Just some more litter on the streets of the city...

You and the atom

Every atom you possess has almost certainly passed through several stars and been part of a million organisms before they became part of you. We are so atomically numerous and so vigorously recycled at death that a significant number of our atoms- up to a billion for each of us, it has been suggested- probably once belonged to Shakespeare.
We are all re-incarnations- when we die, our atoms will disassemble and move off to find new uses elsewhere- such as a leaf, drop of dew, a newt or perhaps even another human being.

How small???!!!!!! The Atom

"Start with a millimetre. Imagine it divided into a thousand equal widths. Each one of those widths is a micron. This is the scale of micro-organisms. A typical paramecium, for instance- a tiny, single celled freshwater creature- is about 2 microns wide (0.002 millimetres) which is really very small. If you wanted to see a paramecium swimming in a drop of water, you would have to enlarge the drop until it was some 12 metres across. However, if you wanted to see the atoms in the same drop, you would have to make the drop 24 kilometres across.
To get down to the scale of atoms, you would need to take each one of those micron slices and shave it into ten-millionth of a millimetre. It is a degree of slenderness way beyond the capacity of our imaginations, but you can get some idea of the proportions if you bear in mind that one atom is to that millimetre line above as the thickness of a sheet of paper is to the height of the Empire State Building." Bryson

Sightings of Elvis

I was reading about sightings of Elvis the other day and this one was my favourites!

"it was different from the other ducks. It had on pants and a leather jacket and blue suede shoes. I watched it dance and sing for a couple of hours in front of a captivated duck audience. Then, Elvis the duck got in his pink Cadillac and drove away."

I've been looking for such a duck upon the river where I live- no luck as yet- I'll keep you informed...

some thoughts

• Cheerfulness is a perpetual lubrication of the mind


• Superfluous ornaments and junk increase labour uselessly


• Information doubles its' value if it's made accessible


• With gloves on- try guessing by touch what things are


• Feel how things feel whenever possible

KD signing autographs in Copenhagen. She was wonderful and I hope she's now having a well earned rest with her feet up.

Poor thing- I couldn't do it; all those screaming adoring women wanting a piece of you....clinging on desperately for the briefest of glances their way...

OK! Maybe I could manage it- for a bit!

Milburn

My loyal friend of 18 years- I miss you. X

Storming Norm

He was massive! Humungous! Built like a brick shit house- all 30 stone of him.

We met him in a church- the verger had very kindly agreed to open up for us- it was late, an eery night and really quite spooky in the candlelight. Me and Wend approached him- he sat on the floor as he couldn't fit onto the pews.

He had a chubby red wintered face, a nervous smile and a chubby sausage handshake.

Norman told us he'd been kipping out for 4 years after he'd been kicked out for stealing from his folks. He'd got a few habits and one of them he said was compulsive gambling which had destroyed him. Norm told us he'd been bullied for as long as he could remember, he preferred to hide away from people as all they did was hurt him.

Wend and I met Norm several times over the next few weeks in the church- we built up a good rapport and gained his trust. We arranged for a place to take him- a small, quiet, supportive hostel in Marylebone. We reassured him- it was only 18 bedrooms- most of the people there were old and he wouldn't have any trouble.

Norm was keen to move in though he had a question first. "Is there anywhere for me to hang my harness?" With that Norm pulled out a massive leather harness from his duffle bag, along with a rubber basque, bondage gear including cuffs and a whip. "I especially like dominant women" he said. With that Wend and I sat as submissively as possible! I wished I wasn't wearing my leather bikers jacket and we set forth to Marylebone with Norm and duffle bag in tow.

The Great Carbunkle!

Morese was as nutty as a fruit cake- I'm sorry but there's no other way of putting it!! A tiny 68 year old woman with her hair cropped dead short and the biggest "carbunkle" (her words not mine) on the top of her head.

She slept out in the salubrious Mayfair by her favourite church and her favourite wall. She'd store her sally army sleeping bag and other odds n sods in a disused telephone exchange metal green cupboard (her treasure store).

Morese had slept out for 30 years or so. In her 20's she was a nurse in Ireland, she had some sort of break-down and had disappeared. Only to reappear in a prison in India! She'd hitched to India and they had locked her up for being mad, she'd hitched all over the world by her 40's and been to countries that now have different names- Siam was one of her favourites apparently. Her father told us these stories in long rambling letters from Ireland that he'd send to us at our office on a weekly basis and Morese would store them away in her cupboard- not sure if she read them.

Some of Morese's happiest moments were spent in Woolies. She'd buy something almost every other day- it could be anything but her best purchases would usually be something electronic like a toaster or a drill. She'd then leave them on her wall for people to find and take home with them. Wendy and I would have bets on what would be there, the most bizarre offering was a kettle full of eggs! We both lost our bet on that day!

Every fortnight I'd treat Morese to liver and onions at a little Italian on North Audley Street- we'd sit outside ofcourse much to the disdain of the owner! I knew when Morese was happy as she'd hum an unrecognisable tune and Morese always hummed when she had her liver!

I wonder what's on Morese's wall today?!

I like driving in my cab

it's not quite a Jaguar....

but my Dermy is lovely. Don't tell a soul but I love to sneak in and out of the bus lanes and through the congestion charging zone and get away with it.
Everyone's so much nicer on the roads to you when they think you're a cabbie and then ofcourse there's the added bonus of women waving at me as I go by!

Some black cab facts:

it's called a cab after the word "cabriolet"- which tranlslated means jumping goat. In the olden days cabs were horse drawn and looked just like jumping goats on the cobbled stoned streets in London Town. The term "Hackney" cab comes from the French word "hacquenee" which translated means general purpose horse. In 1625 there were 20 cabs in London.

They have to be able to turn within 25ft to turn into taxi ranks, and be high enough inside to comfortably allow gentlemen to sit inside wearing bowler hats!
I'm pleased to say I have had no bowler wearing gentlemen in my Dermy so far!

Only 1% of London cabbies are women. Shame!

Compelling force

You are led through your lifetime by the inner learning creature,
the playful spiritual being
that is your real self.

Don't turn away from possible futures before you're certain you don't have anything to learn from them.

You're always free
to change your mind and choose a different future,
or a different past.

Pig's Medicine Cabinet

You'll need to keep a few instruments, medicines and dressings, for emergencies:

* Thermometer

*A pair of rounded scissors

*10ml Arplex plastic syringe (re-usable)

*Needles

*17 gauge x 3" or 1"

*Cotton wool

*Calamine lotion

*Pig oil

*Liquid paraffin

*Surgical spirit

*Multi vitamins

*Lactulose

*Bar of ex-lax chocolate

*Erysipalas Vaccine

*Wormer injection

*Wound powder and antiseptic cream

*Crude disinfectant

Also- Ear notching pliers, ear tattooing set, nose rings and toe pliers

So my pig keeping days won't be as easy as I initially thought!

Just playing with you...

"I won't be a minute!" I shout up. You are tethered to the bed ...waiting. I close the door quietly behind me, pull on my helmet and ride off, safe in the knowledge that you'll be right where I left you when I return ravenously hungry!