London Gay Pride 2018

London Gay Pride took place last weekend and I went along with a friend to watch the parade. She was visiting from Nigeria and watching a gay pride event is on her bucket list. So I obliged her.

Over 300 float and groups marched/danced/twirled/sashayed along the route and about 1 million people came to watch them.

I am not sure there was a theme this year like there was for the New York Pride, but it was a lot of fun, with loads of costumes, colours and diversity on display.

The sun was out, everyone was happy, except probably for the lone stupid brave evangelist calling on people to repent and go to Heaven. I think a good number of people heeded her call and went to Heaven gay club, after the parade.

Here are a few pictures :

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Lady Gaga?

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“Repent and go to Heaven”

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New York Gay Pride 2018

I was in New York when the gay pride took place last weekend.

The shops in New York city were filled with pride merchandise and corporate offices and the streets were festooned with Rainbow colours.

The theme this year was “Defiantly Different” and because of the current  political climate in America, it felt to me like the entire march was giving the collective middle finger to the White house.

New Yorkers certainly know how to throw a party and everyone turned out. I can say that the Pride parade was definitely different from any Pride event I have attended. And I have attended a few.

Here are a few pictures from the parade

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Ms. Billie Jean King

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This is Wakanda!!!!

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Cynthia Nixon Side shot

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Officer Owens
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Officer Owens — Bum, sorry Gun

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“He’s my Bodyguard!!!!!”
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Sen Chuck Schumer (D) – With Sweat patch
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Gov Andrew Cuomo (D)
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“He’s my OTHER bodyguard!!!!!”

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Mayor Bill Blasio & Chirlane McCray

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Eureka
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Asia O’Hara

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Ms. A. Mess II

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Upskirting

Upskirting is a term used to describe the act of taking a photograph up someone’s skirt without their permission.  In most reported cases women are the victims and no men –I guess Kilt wearing Scots –  have come forward to complain.

The sexually invasive act was set to be made a criminal offence in the UK parliament this week, but a 70 year-old Conservative MP gleefully blocked it on some parliamentary procedural technicality, causing him to face a lot of backlash on social media.  But this post is not about heaping abuse on some privileged, same sex marriage hating, climate change denying, misogynist neanderthal, who has used parliamentary procedures to advance his own lecherous voyeuristic sexual perversions, but rather it is to address a little deviance of my own.

It is no secret my obsession with the male gluteus maximus and by which I mean tangible buttocks. Butts you can behold with thine eyes.  Not the unfortunate flat non-existent ones a friend of mine aptly describes as “extended backs”. Sometimes I wonder what the owners of such bums must have done in a former life, or indeed what their ancestors did, to warrant such an omission by God when he was handing out butts.

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No, I mean Bubble butts. Visible cakes. Butts you spank and the sound reverberates around the room and collides with the moans emitted from its owner with each spank, while ravaging him from behind.

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Or the butts you can grab and hold on to for dear life, as its owner bucks away furiously on top of you in reverse cowgirl position, like a jockey racing his horse towards the finish line.  Yes, those kind of butts.

It’s crazy because one of the first things I do when I see any remotely attractive guy in public is to discreetly check out the backside. I have always said if I was ever to identify a male crime suspect in a Police line-up, I would have to ask them to turn around to give a positive ID. Such is my obsession.

Recently, I have taken this infatuation a bit further – I now use my smart phone to take discreet pictures of guys with bubble butts. This could be in the street, on the underground, on the bus or sometimes at the gym.Bubble Butt_4

This morning while trying to take a picture of the bubble butt on a guy walking in front of me, I had an epiphany – as I tripped and came crashing hard on the pavement and aggravated an old shoulder injury in the process – that in some ways this could be similar to Upskirting but perpetrated on men.

It has the same hallmarks  – taking pictures of someone’s butt without their permission and it could be seen as a sexual intrusion into their privacy.  It is only a matter of time before men (hopefully those with bubble butts) in the name of equality, start campaigning for their own version of the law to be passed.

So in order to avoid any possible future embarrassment – you never know I might run for public office, I spent a good part of the morning while waiting to be seen by a Doctor at the A&E department, deleting images of bubble butts I took over the last few months. They were in their hundreds.

I am not sure what was more traumatic – the excruciating shoulder pain before being given strong pain killers or the agony of deleting those pictures.

 I think I need Jesus….

I wonder if He has a bubble butt….🤔

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Crap I Get On Grindr X – Job Hunter

Multifunctional

I have come across some profiles in recent times, that you would be forgiven for thinking that Grindr was a job app like LinkedIn rather than a hook up app.

And the way I flip between apps on my iPad and being a certified simpleton, one of these days I think I just might respond to a message in LinkedIn with one intended for Grindr.

I struggle to see how being a graduate would help one’s quest for a shag on Grindr.

It is as if by declaring “I went to college”, I would say “Brilliant, bring your skinny arse over and let me ravage it”

The other day, one guy sent me a message accompanied with dick and butt pics. When I checked his profile he proudly proclaimed that he had a PhD and was looking for a serious relationship.

Last weekend a “High flying lawyer” in central London sent me pictures of his chiselled body but flat behind, offering to split the Uber fare if I came over to his place. Cheapstake. How did I know he is a “High flying lawyer“? Yes, that’s correct. It’s on his profile.

It got me thinking. If we all listed our academic and career achievements on Grindr, mine might read something like:

“City Analyst/Full time bitch/ Part time hoe.  BSc (Unical), BEng(Unilag), Msc (Buckingham), ACA, FCA, MBA(Imperial), PhD (Harvard), CPA, LLB, LLM, CITP, AGILE, PRINCE2. Top, looking for NSA, drug free safe sex with bottoms. PLEASE be Athletic/Muscular with a clean butt.” 

Then maybe a gay MD of an FTSE 100 company would offer me a job post coitus.  I guess I wouldn’t have to worry if got the job due to affirmative action.  Assertive action definitely but not affirmative …but I digress….

Unfortunately, these accomplished erudite punters like the slim ones mentioned above, just don’t bother reading profiles or do, but lack basic English language comprehension, for why else would they reach out to me when our profiles don’t match?!!

When people complain that Grindr has killed romance in the gay community , I often reply that Grindr is exactly what we want it to be:-

It could be a quick hook up app; A source of amusement (both uses I subscribe to, though since Nov 20 2016 it’s been more of  the latter than the former) or; an app leading to a long term relationship culminating in a globally televised wedding, featuring a black preacher and gospel choir in a typical English Church, prompting inane comments from British television pundits about “never seeing so many black people at a wedding before”.

But job hunting certainly wasn’t one of the uses I had in mind for Grindr.

🚶🏿🚶🏿🚶🏿🚶🏿

Conversation With The Barber IV

Previous haircuts   Conversation IConversation II, Conversation III

It was mid-April. The London weather finally acted on the memo it received 3 weeks before and allowed the sun to raise the temperature to just above 200C.

As is the norm, once there is any hint of sunshine, Londoners regardless of the actual temperature outside and their body shape, wear the skimpiest outfits they can find in their wardrobe no matter how inappropriate it looks. All in the spirit Carpe diem, for we know not when the sun will visit us again.

For me, it is my cue to shed my medium growth protective Afro in favour of a low-cut skin fade.  So, I went to the barber’s shop and as usual we have the most engaging conversation.

It was early in the day and the shop wasn’t very busy. It would be my turn after the lady in the barber’s chair. I sat down and waited my turn as I watched gospel praise worship video on the huge TV on the wall, streamed from YouTube.

He finished cutting the lady’s hair and I made my way to his chair. We greeted each other leaning in for a Bro hug before I settled into the chair and told him the type of haircut I wanted.

Our conversation as usual is in Igbo and a bit of Pidgin English:

Emenike (EM): So how are things? How is work?

Me: I am ok. Work is good, I can’t complain.

Em: That’s good.  You still dey do that thing?

I knew he wasn’t asking about my freelancing gig with the now disbanded B6-13, but I had to be sure.

Me: Which thing?

Em: You still dey sleep with man?

Me: Yes. I said I wasn’t going to stop last summer when you asked me; I confirmed it again last Christmas and the situation has not changed since you asked me last time I was here 4 weeks ago. Do you have a guy for me?

Em: He laughs. You are not serious. I will be praying for you. In fact come to my church….

Me: Is the Pastor fine?

Em: Yes now. He is a man of God.

Me: Doesn’t mean he is pleasing to the eye. Does he look like JJ Hairston playing on the TV screen?

Em: No.

Me: Invite me when he starts looking like JJ Hairston.

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Em: You are not well.

Just then a lady with a pram tries to enter the shop but struggled to manoeuvre it through the door. Emenike abandoned my hair to hold the door open for her. She asked him if he had any other pictures of women with styled haircuts apart from those on the wall. He handed her a hairstyle magazine and she thumbs through while he returned to my cutting my hair. He was less than 10 seconds into cutting when, unsure of what haircut would suit her, asked him a question, followed by another question and yet another. All of which he answered politely. All through their exchange I watched her through the mirror, trying hard not to allow my indignation show in my reflection in the mirror – this woman was wasting my time! Eventually she left claiming she had to go to the cash point to get money to pay for the haircut.

Face palm II

Emenike returned to my hair.

Em: You were looking at her, are you interested? She was looking at you too.

Me: Looking at me in what way?

Em: She seemed interested in you.

Me: Really? What about the father of the baby in the pram? He might interest me more. Do you know him?

Em: This man, you are not well o!! Fine boy like you!! As manly as you are, you prefer men. Women will be dying for you. You need a woman not a man.

Me: I know!! It’s terrible, but then God knows best.

Em: This is not God. You need deliverance.

Me: Ok, I will come with you. But first do you have picture of your Pastor? Is he muscular? And I mean visible muscle,not muscle hidden under fat.

Em: God created Adam and Eve…

Eye roll

 This is Homophobia 101. Having that tiring logic NOT served up by Nigerian Christian folk during a debate about homosexuality is like being served Goat meat pepper soup without goat meat. Sacrilegious.

Me: Yup so you keep saying and yet here we are. God probably got bored and decided to spice things up. You and I have been here before…I beg sing another hymn; Quote another Bible verse. Meanwhile please trim my beard as well.

Em: If your father decided to sleep with men, you wouldn’t be here.

Another well-worn out pointless tired argument used by Nigerian Christian folk, which when not presented during such debates, is like serving Jollof rice without fried plantain –  Pointless!!

Me: You know gay men can get women pregnant, right? Anyway, we will never know. I am here, and I am queer, you will be fine in the end. Please don’t forget my eyebrows too.

Em: I will take you out clubbing one night where you will see many women. I am sure you will be tempted to take one home.

Me: Hmm… will there be men in at the club?  I would most likely take one of them home?

Em: How can? They will be straight. They will be into women.

Me: Oh so you think as you are here trying to convert me, there isn’t some other straight guy trying to convert his gay friend by taking him to the same club? If the gay guy is there and he his attractive I will fish him out. Hell, that is even too easy; I will take his straight friend home. But will we be going to the club after or before we go for deliverance at your Church?

Emenike Laughs. Then he gestures outside the shop window at the bus stop. There was a young couple standing waiting for the bus. She quite pretty and curvaceous and he was good looking too, fit but no bum.

 Em: The lady is fine with a nice ass. How can you not want to tap that?

Me: Quite easily. I am not attracted to her. Now if her boyfriend had more ass I could tap that.

Em: Crazy. Man to man is like Bone to bone….

Yet another worn out gem used by the Nigerian anti-gay brigade….and  I refuse to waste good Nigerian food similes on it. 

Me: Well I don’t know the kind of men you come across, but me I like them with flesh and better fine nyash (ass)

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Em: So you won‘t tap me, as I don’t have a big nyash? (Ass)

Ok, that threw me. No matter his sexuality, in my experience the most devastating thing you can say to an Igbo man (third after telling him he has lost his money and he is not well endowed) is that he has a flat ass. Emenike has a nice set of cakes which are proportionate to his slim frame, but by no stretch of the imagination has he got a bubble. Visible yes, but not bubble. And for me, it’s bubble or nothing. I had to break the news to him gentle, especially as he was about to shape my eyebrows and one slip, they could end up being asymmetrical.

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Me: You have a nice ass for your frame, but I can’t tap you as you are a happily married man with young kids and what God has but together, let no dick put asunder. But I think women find a firm round bum attractive on men. If you do more squats in the gym, it will improve your already nice ass and your wife I am sure would be delighted.

Em: God forbid! What does a woman want to do with a man’s ass?

Me: For starters, something for her to grab hold of and a few other tricks to ginger up things in bed.  If done correctly, she could lift you a higher ground. But there is no time to go through details now.  I can send you a few links for you and your wife to go through and if you have any questions, ask me after you get your Pastor’s blessing.

Em: Yes, you need prayers.

And with that he finished off my hair. beard nicely trimmed and eye brows in sync, I paid and said good bye.

Who knows next time we could discuss the Joys of Anal sex.

Watch this space

Crap I Get On Grindr IX

 

Crap2

Reading is fundamental😏

 

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Tired lines….🙄

 

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He asked. I kinda answered..🚶🏿

 

 

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Every gay black man’s dream. I couldn’t possibly refuse….I packed a weekend bag💼🏃🏿

 

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Finally agreed at £450. Please don’t judge me….Food prices have gone up 30% last 2 years…😉

No Sex Please, We Are Facebook.

Early on Valentine’s Day after being on Mark Zuckerberg’s good side for a good stretch, his crew flipped on me. I was banned from using Facebook.

What really piqued me about the ban and its timing this year was that I missed the mawkish valentine’s day messages, between grown men living together, appear on my timeline. I live for the absurdity.

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