Sunday, August 06, 2006


This post is likely to be a bit of this, a bit of that, and a bit of everything else.

Let's start with Thursday's neologism. Here it is: fameish. (I didn't want to include the "e", but since "famish" is already a word, I had to make do.) It's a word that can be used to describe D-list (or lower) "celebrities". People who once gave Lionel Blair "All The Good Men" in two minutes or less, as Humphrey Littleton might put it. Folks who snatched five consecutive gold runs from Bob Wholesomeness on Blockbusters before they were in their twenties. They're fameish.

I've always liked "ish" words, not least since reading Gore Vidal's "Live From Golgotha". When someone is described to one of the characters as Jewish, he responds with "Jewish? How can someone be Jewish? Either you're a Jew or you're not."

Anyway, the reason fameish happened is that on Thursday, I was meeting up with my Lovely Husband™ in Sohohoho. I was feeling a little peckish, to I popped into Ed's Diner to a bite. The woman in front of me seemed pleased to hear another Scottish accent, and we got chatting. I didn't mention it at all, because I don't watch it and really don't like it, but she was a former Big Brother contestant, a Glaswegian pre-operative transsexual called Sam. She was quite lovely.

I got quite tipsy that night. That's code for very drunk. We went to the Duke Of Wellington (which seems to be my LH's favourite haunt), then Compton's, then G-A-Y bar, and finally Molly Mogg's to watch drag. I left my card behind the bar for use as our tab, and then got too rat-arsed to remember either the card or to pay the tab. I was fretting the next day that someone would be running up a big bill in mink and home entertainment systems on my card, but got to the bar just after lunch to find it still nestling in its glass, waiting for me. Phew! Oddly, whilst at Molly Mogg's I met a straight couple whom, it turns out, live only metres away from us. (That's yer actual metric.) It's a small world. But I wouldn't want to have to paint it.

Friday, I met up with a woman I worked with briefly. She's very lovely, and more bubbly than a glass of Widow Cliquot's finest shaken up with a couple of alkaseltzer and a fizzy vitamin tab. She's getting married soon, and had the most excellent idea of booking a high quality magic act to entertain the guests during the parts of the day where ice-breaking is helpful. So, I got the low-down on what will work for her, agreed a rate, decided what attire would be suitable, and so on. All done and dusted. Seven weeks from today, we'll be in Liverpool for the weekend, and will finish off our trip with me doing my magic thang at the wedding.

All this being off is turning me into something of a lush. We went out again on Friday night. There was a mix-up over where and when we were meeting, so I ended up dining alone in a great Morroccan place on Frith Street, then caught up with my Lovely Husband™ at Kings Cross. He got there very early, so had spent a long time trying not to look like rent. We headed off to Central Station to see Lizzie Drip. My, what a laugh. It's years since I've seen her, and it's still the same old act, but it's such a funny one that I could watch it again and again. And indeed, I have. In fact, we saw her again yesterday at Brighton Pride.

Yes, Brighton Pride. I don't know what it is about Brighton. I seem to be jinxed when it comes to that place. Every time I've been, I've either had a horrible time (e.g. being dumped whilst supposedly on a little weekend break - this was quite a few years ago, mind), or a merely less than pleasant one. This time, we actually had a really, really good time, but the journey there and back was Hell On Four Wheels. Never again! Well, not by car anyway.

We spent most of our time in the cabaret tent, and saw Lizzie Drip, Drag With No Name, Laquisha Jonz, Claudia Patrice (the girl we saw last weekend at West 5), Dave Lynn, and The D.E. Experience. Marvellous stuff. Then we mooched around the Prowler tent with our friend A who was working the booth, and got giggly playing with his helium balloons and singing Steps in squeaky voices. Marvellous.

Another neologism came up yesterday. We often find songs that we can imagine Cher singing. Now they can be described as either Cherable, or - if it's more that we could see it being rewritten for Cher - réCherché.

Oh, and I bought a hat. It's a leather trilby. Apart from the odd baseball cap, I've never worn a hat. I'm curious to see whether I'll take to it.


Tickersoid said...

That's a new word for me, neologism.

I always look like a prat, in a hat.

BEAST said...

YAY I am second.....urgh pride events ****shivers****

First Nations said...

you will look SO pimp in a leather trilby!

we went to the Baker Blues festival and had a thoroughly wonderful time with all the other mountain hippies and free-range elderly.
completely missed BC Pride. crapola!

Jay said...

Unfortunately like Tickersoid I cannot wear hats either. And I have yet to find a pair of sunglasses that don't make me look absolutely ridiculous.

Dan Project 76 said...

I can't do hats as I have a large head. And as a baldie a hat would look like I was ashamed.

Brighton? Full of gays, you know!
You'll get a reputation if you keep talking about that place.

Da Nator said...

Well, a good deal of this post involved British places and persons, so I've had to semi-translate in my head and come up with "well, that shameless lush had a good time, didn't he?"

I am particularly fond of the Cherisms. Brilliant.

As One Who Has, On Occasion, Worn Hats, I can firmly state that, when it comes to chapeaus, there's a fine line between looking natty and just looking like an ass. Fortunately, I can imagine that a leather trilby would suit you quite well. (But none of these, though, mmmkay?

Qenny said...

Oddly, I've not been getting notifications of new comments. And some comments I've made on other blogs have initially appeared, and later vanished. Hmm.

tickersoid: I love it when you get all Doctor Seuss on me.

beast: It was fun, although as I observed to my Lovely Husband™ as we were leaving, people would come away from the event having had completely different experiences. We had spent most of our time in the cabaret tent. There are those who will have spent all their time in the dance tents on drugs, and I'm not really sure how that would differ from any other weekend, but then I've never done that part of the scene, so what do I know.

first nations: free-range elderly - that made me laugh out loud. I'm sure you had a fabulous time, too, we just had different bits of fabulous. It's a shame you can't videotape a day or an event whilst attending another day or event that clashes, innit? I wore the hat to The Magic Circle last night, and it looked surprisingly good with a suit.

jay: I'm so relieved to hear that you haven't followed the fashion for these ridiculous Deirdre Rasheed sunglasses that so many queens are wearing around Soho. They're absurd! And it doesn't matter if they've got some designer's name on the side of them, they still look like they came from a Poundstretchers' reject bin. Or a kids dressing up set. I suspect you'd look very hot in a baseball cap.

dan project76: There was another guy at The Magic Circle last night who was also wearing a hat, and like me, had a buzzcut underneath it. I reckon it looks quite good when a hat comes off and there's little or no hair under it. I don't want to have a reputation for spending a lot of time in Brighton, though. I'm more of a Blackpool man.

da nator: Oh, those cowboy hats! They're bad, so bad. And yet they're so expensive for what you get. People actually pay that much money for such awful tat? I did wonder whether anyone was going to call me out on the fact that this blog entry was full of Britisms. Perhaps I should throw in some translations. let me see. What would have thrown you?

> People who once gave Lionel Blair "All The Good Men" in two minutes or less, as
> Humphrey Littleton might put it.

Humphrey Littleton chairs a comedy panel game on BBC Radio 4 called "I'm sorry, I haven't a clue." The usually play a game that's like charades, except being on the radio, obviously, it differs from charades in that the players don't mime. Humph usually introduced this section of the show by pointing out the similarity between this game and another comedy panel show, Give Us A Clue, which was a TV show where two teams played traditional charades. One of the team captains on that show was Lionel Blair, a somewhat fey C-list celeb, and Humphrey Littleton usually works some innuendo-laden film title in, and has Lionel Blair performing it. Since the charade had to be guessed within 2 minutes or less, this usually comes out as something like "Who can forget seeing Lionel Blair bringing off Two Gentlement Of Verona in under two minutes".

> Folks who snatched five consecutive gold runs from Bob Wholesomeness on Blockbusters
> before they were in their twenties. They're fameish.

Bob Holness presented a quiz show called Blockbusters. The competitors were in their late teens. If you won the game, you would get to play a Gold Run, at the end of which you would pick up a prize. You also got to stay in the game and play the next challenger(s). Players were only allowed to win a maximum of five Gold Runs.

I won't go into Big Brother, because I'm sure you will have picked up enough about that from other blogs.

Widow Cliquot's finest = Veuve Cliqout, a brand of champagne.

Hope that helped.

Howard said...

Oh, hats. I really hate people who can wear them. I'm too big-headed.

Inexplicable DeVice said...

I love this post and all the little 'extras' and asides.

Hats make me look twattish - when I wear them that is, not just if they're in my vicinity.

I've had comments disappear, too. I thought I was being paranoid and that they'd been deleted. The latest was at Lee's G4B yesterday. Hmmmm...

Inexplicable DeVice said...

Apart from my pointy witch hat, of course!

Qenny said...

pirate king: There's a lot to be said for a nice big head. But thank you for hating me. I hardly feel I've earned it, but I'll do my best to live up to that.

inexplicable device: Why thank you, your witchiness. My last comment on Lee's site vanished, too, and I got the impression it had happened to other folks on there, as well, so I feel less paranoid now. It would be understandable, though, if he had been deleting them at first anyways.

Tickersoid said...

S'funny, I put a final remark on one of my posts twice and both versions vanished. I thought it was some sort of geeky stalker at work.

Tickersoid said...

Oh and Yeay, I was first!

frobisher said...

Do you look like Arthur Daley or Sid James in the leather Trilby???

Qenny said...

tickersoid: You've also been suffering from blogger oddities. We're the new in crowd, us sufferers. Welcome to the gang. And yes, you were indeed first. No sloppy seconds for you.

frobisher: Thankfully, neither. I look a bit 50s, but in quite a sexy way. So my Lovely Husband™ tells me. That could just be his loveliness at work, although he did express some regret that we couldn't go out to a pub or club with me dressed up like that, because he'd love to be seen on the arm of one so debonnaire. Or some such.