Bigotry to the point of insanity

I was aware, through the news, of the train crash in Philadelphia last week, and, from what little I'd seen, early investigations had seemed to point towards some kind of track defect. But, of course, the Christian right know better. Given that I look after not just one train like the unfortunate driver in this accident, but hundreds of potentially life-threatening scenarios every working day, and that I'm not just gay, but a boylover too, how does this bigoted fuckwit explain why no-one has ever died on my watch. Or even come close to dying.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Annoyed

In my local (now there's a surprise, eh?!). On the next table is a party of four - three adults and a boy. And the so-called 'grown-ups' are simply ignoring him, carrying on their own conversation. He hasn't got anything to do, no 'electronic babysitter' in the form of a phone or tablet he can play games on. And, of course, he's getting restless - or at least he was, until their food arrived just now. K went to various pubs right through her childhood, but she was always engaged, we played games, traditional, like backgammon and draughts, word and number games of our own devising (a bit of surreptitious extra education, but, hey, it worked pretty well!), or just talked. But she was never ignored. Ever.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Hello, stranger

Through slightly more convoluted meanderings than usual, after I'd finished the first of my 9 straight early turns at lunchtime, I've found myself in a different Wetherspoons, albeit not a million miles from my local. I've only been in here once before today, mostly because getting to and from home is a bit fiddly by public transport, but, if anything, it's probably a nicer pub than my customary haunt. And as soon as I walked through the door, there was a familiar face - a youngish, maybe early twenties, barman who worked in my local a year or so ago when I first started using the place. And while I've no doubt at all that he's as straight as they come, the aesthetic appeal of the staff there was certainly diminished when he left. Or moved, as it now appears.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Scratch a Tory, and you'll find a fascist

Less than a week after they were swept to power by gaining a mere 37% of the popular vote, the Tories are already showing their true, authoritarian colours. Yesterday, threatening to scrap the UK Human Rights Act and withdrawing from the European Human Rights Convention - 'breaking the link between human rights and British courts' was quoted, leaving any rights at all, seemingly, in the gift of our elected dictatorship, in the form of some undefined 'bill of rights' - while today, the party are reportedly 'at war' with the BBC, apparently for a perceived pro-Labour bias during the election campaign. You weren't sycophantic enough, so we're going to defund you. The fascist one party state beckons.

1845 edit: And there's more. I've just seen a news story quoting the new Business Secretary as saying that new legislation is required to limit public sector workers' right to strike. We'll give you the right to be enslaved, what more do you plebs want?

2050 edit: And yet more. They're proposing to scrap paid maternity leave, and the new 'minister for equality' is a theocratic bigot who is against marriage equality, and thinks 'the church's' definition of marriage trumps all. And, most invidious of all, there are already mutterings about reintroducing the death penalty. And there's still, on paper, 4 years, 51 weeks and 2 days of this government's term to run. Emigration is looking like a more appealing option by the hour.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Lost weekend

Not quite in the filmic sense, because I'm well aware of how it's been spent, but pretty definitively wasted, apart, perhaps, from the time I shared with K on Saturday. I'm not actually back to work until Wednesday morning, but tomorrow is a write-off, given that I'll need to be up at just after 4:00 the day after. It's all self-inflicted, of course, I could've done far more worthy things than spending hours in the pub, but I can resist everything, as Wilde said, except temptation. The beer is, needless to say, a palliative to distract from the pain of what I want but can never have. And, right on cue, there he is, another cute 12/13 I haven't seen before, but who I'd sell my soul for. If I had one to sell.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Ghost, beautiful ghost

The bus stopped in Haymarket. He was standing a few yards behind me, so I had to turn and look over my shoulder, as it were, to admire him. And he noticed, straight away. And reacted - positively. He smiled and waved. I gave him a thumbs-up, and he waved again. Then the bus moved off, and I gave him a little wave. A wave goodbye, of course. His smile, his blond curls, his lovely face, gone forever. Another lost, beautiful ghost.

1845 edit: And now there's a beautiful boy in my local, not quite a 'ghost', because I've seen him once before. Yet more salt rubbed into my largely self-inflicted wounds.

2035 edit:  'Beautiful boy' has gone, 'little friend' has been and gone, and I'm just as alone as ever. Ain't life grand.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

In the cold light of day....

....last night's euphoria is shown up for what it really was, hollow and meaningless. Yes, I did enjoy my time with K, I was excited by the match and the way it ended, But I've woken this morning, like every other morning, alone. And with no prospect whatsoever of that situation ever changing. Given who I am and what I want, and the fact that I'm not prepared to 'pretend' and take another 'second-best', it can never change. It's like living in a vacuum, where up or down, win or lose, good day or bad, mean nothing, change nothing. Pointlessness made manifest.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B