Bora Bora

Juicelog Sat 300906: Sitting on the balcony of our Playa D’en Bossa apartment I had breakfast in the blazing sun. The sun carried on shining until the later afternoon which gave us a couple of hours of sunbathing. Brad introduced me to my first experience with PEP pills. With the surplus energy acquired I worked it off with some table dancing at Bora Bora.

David J. reading the Daily Mail:


A Juicytastic Italian brothers sandwich:

After our heavy liquid lunch we had a mini siesta before heading into Ibiza Town for dinner.

Departure

Juicelog Fri 290906: Looking back, I was one of those kids on my council estate that liked playing with the local boys. This type of social interaction allowed me to develop my social skills. Having got slightly rusty I thought it was time to head on over to Ibiza to get some practice in. Dan E, Nigel, Brad, David J, Steven and myself jetted off from Gatwick Airport this afternoon.

London Eye / Ruby Blue

Juicelog Fri 220906: My Friday kicked off with a lifeless Anti-Poverty Conference (run by the Migrant Resource Centre & European Anti-Poverty Network) at Council House in Westminster. Hoping to learn about the latest developments of the social policy task force I ended up doing the networking thing. Part of my new job responsibilities is to develop closer links with such organisations within Kensington & Chelsea, I felt as though my work was more of a tokenistic nature rather than anything real and meaningful that would benefit my mental health Service Users.

With the rain dying down in the late afternoon, I then met up with Richard, Kate and Alison for my first London Eye experience. It was rocketing stuff and picturesque viewing central London in all its glory as the sun was setting.

With it’s obscure location in Wardour Street, there are quite a lot of people (including people I know) who are still unaware of the existence of the Trash Palace.

Three Dans, two Pauls, two Richards and one pair of camel leather-skinned shoes later we were dining at Ruby Blue for the We Love OAP's dinner.

Wicked / James A.

Juicelog Thurs 210906: After a disappointing Wicked we went round the corner to Pizza Express for an evening meal to talk about why we didn’t like the musical. For me, I found the whole thing limped along with a few amusing moments (and they weren’t even all that). Someone along the line took what sounded like a neat idea on paper and turned it into an incoherent messy production. Musically and lyrically the score was poor and forgettable. The way Elphaba was shown to revolt against the empire of Oz was not plausible. Points were only scored for the cast, choreography (even though a few of the dancers were off time) and the visuals (Emerald City was the only thing out of Wicked that really came alive).

During dinner I spotted an unattended bag but more importantly I detected an Eastender (seated with a horde of women) in da joint. Following a quick research phone call, detailed instructions and superb tutelage from Alex C, I then plucked up the courage to approach “Martin Fowler” to tell him that he had 5 minutes left to wish me happy birthday.

Juicy & James Alexandrou:

My List

Juicelog Wed 200906: Looks can be deceiving. Today is technically when I will be entering into my 31^st year of human life. For me, this is quite an important time of my life as it marks my ascent into deep face lines. Blasting off into my 31^st year and into a new census age bracket, I will indubitably be accompanied with baggage of various shapes and sizes.

This is precisely why there will be a petite mob of curious citizens eager to delve into Juicy’s box of what’s not and what rocks. Herein begins my list:

1. I don't like guys spending the night in my bed.
2. I don't like spending the night in other guys bed (especially if they have a spring mattress).
3. My social circles is like a Palm Pilot (it needs updating every 6 months).
4. KFC chicken still tastes good after all these years.
5. It takes me much longer to perform simple tasks (par example, like composing a catchy haiku) which I accomplished with minimal effort in my twinkties.
6. Men cannot be trusted (especially when their middle name is Jesus).
7. White socks should never be worn with black shoes.
8. The bigger your pay cheque the bigger your wishlist.
9. When I’m drunk I am able to speak fluent German and Italian.
10. It’s always easier to meet someone that you don’t have anything in common with than to find like minded souls.
11. You're deemed to be super-old when your age is greater than your waist size (waist size is measured in inches of course coz gayboys measure everything in inches).
12. Shorts were made for hot beaches and gay discos.
13. As a single, I always get invited to dinner parties where the host has a odd numbered dinner table.
14. Removal of nasal hairs are a frickin’ pain in the ass.
15. I actually enjoy watching daytime game shows.

Last night 3 DJ’s raved my night

Juicelog Mon 180906: DJ David R. assisted me with entrance into DTPM. DJ Stevie B. took me into the toilet cubicle and forced big massive bumps of K into my nostrils. DJ Paul H. hid me inside the DJ booth whilst I was feeling poorly.

Thames Festival

Juicelog Sun 170906: Whizzed into Wellington Arch (Hyde Park Corner) this morning for my last Open House venue. The inside of the arch was dull but the view at the top was refreshing.

Dropped into Later to make sure Londan was behaving himself and to legitimately endorse the new disco dancefloor.

Before checking out Terri Walker’s performance at Thames Festival we enjoyed a lovely champagne spread at Robbie’s place. Terri was late on stage and gave an ordinary performance. Our final song was an accapella of Gnarl Barkley’s “Crazy”.

The festival parade consisted of an assorted mixture of different groups which reflected the multiculturalism of London. Having not experienced evening parades I thoroughly relished the atmosphere and music.

The finale was a fireworks display along the Thames. As people cheered with the loud noises and exploding rockets we heard this amusing one liner from one of the crowd members:

“there goes my council tax”

Open House

Juicelog Sat 160906: Off the record, there is an informal rule that dictates how cultural excursions should be conducted. If you haven’t had a chance to familiarise yourself with my handbook it clearly states that a 25% quorum of heterosexuals must be reached in order for the social outing to proceed. Alex A was our nominated tokenistic hetty who fulfilled this role today when we (Tom A, Bouncy Boy and myself) visited a few buildings today as part of the Open House weekend.

With coffee in hand, the first point of architectural interest for us was the Daily Express building on Fleet Street. Having already seen the art deco foyer previously it served as a nice refresher for me.

A couple of bus stops away we headed over to BBC Bush House (Aldwych). Jamie (a desiccated BBC press officer) was our designated tour guide who guffed on about the history of the building and a few of the cased artefacts. The BBC Worldwide service will lose this 1920’s building in 2010 so you’ve got four years to check it out before it is returned to the Japanese freeholder.

During our pizza lunch I quizzed Tom about whether Rachel (his mother) was aware of the existence of his blog. He confirmed that Rachel was a loyal reader of his fabulous blog and had even conversed with him about his postings. This type of liberalism totally rocks.

After lunch we toddled along to Banqueting House in Whitehall to practice our royal imitations.

Channel 4 in St. James Park was more to my liking. Whilst we were queuing outside this attractive curved glass building we communicated with the lift operator (Ricky) by means of hand waving and air kisses. Ricky misconstrued our friendliness as he pressed a note into my hand, as we were departing the building, which he had hurriedly scribbled his telephone number onto this tiny piece of paper. Not really wanting to indulge him too much I hauled the other three out of the steel entry atrium onto our final Saturday detsination.

C4 entrance:

Balcony roof:

Alex A. in the studio:

Tom A. & pink chair:

Bouncy Boy & (Randy) Ricky:

BBC Broadcasting House (Portland Place) was where we concluded today’s speck of educating enlightment. Conducting our tour was the Communications Director who was fantastically knowledgeable and knew what he was talking about. A flamboyant delivery ensured that he kept our attentions whilst providing us with mild amusement.

Hung Like A Donkey

Juicelog Wed 130906: Today has been a sad day for me. Animals have never really been my thing but it was awfully distressing for me to find out that one of the planet’s favourite donkeys was hung last night. The RIAA (Recording Industry Association of America) killed off eDonkey (one of the popular peer-to-peer file sharing networks).

There are hundreds (if not thousands) of iffy and legal file sharing services out there which have provoked numerous discussions focusing on copyright infringement. Not that I’m questioning the legal aspects of the eDonkey case but it seems quite apparent that some of the social implications have not been given full consideration.

Given the way that musical formats have evolved and developed over the last eight years eDonkey’s decision to give up on their court case marks a slightly gloomy day for today’s generation of file sharers. Peer-to-peer (P2P) networks have offered people the ability to listen to a wide range and styles of music - which would not have been an easy thing to do going back a decade ago. Some P2P file sharing services allow you to browse other people’s collection of mp3’s (which is the electronic equivalent of looking through someone’s record collection). Finding someone who has similar musical tastes to yourself and being able to see what they listen to is how the cyber music community get to discover new acts (as well as the rarer classics). The option of communicating with other like-minded listeners allows for melodic bonding and formation of new friendships/relationships.

The advent of P2P’s has increased accessibility to songs which has allowed for the regular home listener to sieve out a lot of the crap stuff (Will Young would fall into this category), thus jolting music companies and songwriters to bump up their standards. Toilet music is by no means a justification for P2P’s because we all know that sharing Will Young is not the kind of thing that friends do to each other. Trust me, it will just end in tears.

Gay Bingo

Juicelog Sun 100906: Take one dash of a sunny afternoon. Throw in a handful of trendy Hoxtonians whilst gently smearing it up with queers. Mix this in with a touch of kitsch, an array of funky tunes and expensive booze. Simmer this inside the T Bar and you now have the popular Sunday recipe known as Gay Bingo.

A skulk of foxes

Juicelog Fri 080906: An indiscriminate ramble from Farringdon station took us to Betsy Wood tonight. To the unseasoned Londoner, Betsy Wood might sound like the name of a drug rehab centre but it is quite simply an average sized laid back pub situated on Farringdon Road. With only one cubicle in the gents this eventually produced an outrageous queue. The situation soon remedied itself with people utilising the universal tried and tested Beyond formula of four people sharing one cubicle. Being non-Farringdonites we weren’t very familiar with the local customs and overstretched ourselves by squeezing five people into the ladies toilet:

Toilets aside, our main objective for the evening was to ensure that we oozing in love, cheering loudly and swaying along to the bouncy indie sounds of The Foxes. Tonight’s gig was one of many performances that they were giving as part of their nationwide UK tour. In the intimate basement the band gave a satisfactory performance. Musically they had a retro sound going on with some interesting lyrics (par example, my dog had anal cancer) but lacked stage presence. This was mainly due to Kayla (the lead vocalist) drumming at the back of the stage. If they were looking to get signed up, then most A&R people would recommend her coming to the front and getting someone else to do the drumming. If they’re not looking to get signed, then I would like to audition for the role of tambourine player.

The Foxes in action:

Alex A enjoying the band:

Micky

Juicelog Thurs 070906: After having a healthy salad for lunch this afternoon I decided to get my haircut. On the way to the barbers I had to really really resist the urge of popping into Micky D’s (AKA McDonalds) for a double cheeseburger. Help, I think I maybe pregnant.

Shorts

Juicelog Wed 060906: Back a few weeks ago my brother and myself were riffling through boxes of old clothes at my parents house as I had instigated a summer clearout. My brother found our old PE shorts which he was going to chuck into the charity box but I stopped him from doing so. He asked me what I wanted them for and I told him I was going to recycle them. When I said recycle, what I had really meant was that I was going to squeeze into them for the next Indian Summer pool party that I attend.

Minnie / Mickey Must Die

Juicelog Fri 010906: Following on from my three inch posting, I can now confirm that my new part-time undesirable flatmate is a mouse and not a beetle. Without any signed paperwork to legitimise his/her residence, I am now getting hacked off with its many attempts to munch my food.

So, as a plan of action I have now formulated a task group to tackle my latest problem. The Tom & Fairy steering group (Robbie, Mac, Danny & Martial) met up round mine tonight for a lengthy discussion about what solutions I should employ. After cocktails and dinner I gave a brief presentation of my humane mouse trap box that I acquired this week. Having had the box trap for a few days I have been able to trap the mouse yet. I suspect Fairy is of American origin and doesn’t have the physical capability of being able to get inside my box trap.

The committee weren’t sure about whether the box would work but they did note the success rate of the classic spring (and chunk of cheese) mouse trap. Even though I’m really eager for it to leave my abode ASAP, I felt that this would be too cruel a death for any animal, let alone a tiny mouse. More importantly the possibility of a bloody mess (on my creamy white walls) doesn’t sit too well with me.

Poisoning the little bugger could cause an awful stink especially if it dies underneath my varnished wooden floorboards. Cats are out of the question due to my allergy. Snakes would only be used if they are off the trouser variety. Creatively I made some boards and mats out of duct tape (sticky side exposed on the outside). These will be strategically placed around my flat to discourage the mouse from freely roaming about underneath my kitchen cabinets. Martial laughed at my idea and wasn’t convinced that it would have any impact at all.

What would you do?