Monday 30 April 2012

My love life involves a Lovecraftian horror - come in, it's fun here...

Ah, straight crushes. If I ever go on Mastermind, and they turn down my specialist subjects of "Pokémon, Generations I - III" and "The Current, Exact Whereabouts Of Ezra Miller", "Straight Crushes" would definitely be my backup plan. I wouldn't exactly say I'm the master of straight crushes, because that would imply that I face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality, and I'm sure that all my friends have itemised lists of occasions when I have really most sincerely not acted in that manner, but suffice it to say that I'm very, very experienced in these matters.


The very first image result for "experienced" on Google - what the actual fuck?
I suppose my crushes can be very neatly subdivided into 3 types: the Idol, the Innocent, and the Singularity. Idols are people who I develop crushes on just because they appear to me to have nothing wrong with them, in any way, ever. These are the people who turn up to school, get 100/100 on their Maths exam, and then go home with a nonchalant "Oh please, it was nothing..." look on their handsome face. Innocents are something of a departure for me, because they're the people who I don't particularly harbour any sexual intent towards - I just enjoy looking at them and their cuteness (that wasn't meant to sound so creepy, my apologies). Those two types are fine, no unpleasantness there, poise and rationality all round. It's the Singularities that cause all the problems.

Terms from General Relativity are never good when they're used out of context.
Singularities are people who, in my strange, slightly Asperges way, I become completely and utterly obsessed with. And I don't mean as in I Facebook stalk them all the time, I mean as in "Hmm, maybe I should go see a psychiatrist... after travelling for 2 hours just to leave a gift on his doorstep" obsessed. But there's only been one of those, so hopefully he was just a blip.

I suppose I should go into more detail, but I'm not sure that a) all of these people know that I fancy/fancied them, or b) want their names associated with a blog that has "Homo" in the name. I suppose I could take my imminent departure from my college as an opportunity to say "Screw this, screw you all, I'm naming and shaming you, I never have to see you again in my entire life!", but they all have either knowledge of where I live or access to people who do, so I'll give them codenames: "Swinger", "Sleepyhead" and, because it shares many qualities with him, "Cthulhu".



Drives people insane, slimy, enjoys a nice long swim - they must have been separated at birth.
I'll start with the easiest one - "Swinger", the Idol (easiest to explain, not easy in other ways, sadly). Swinger is one of those people who you either despise and wish Polio upon, or adore, because he's just damn perfect. The only thing he ever did wrong was be illegal for me to touch inappropriately for 5 months of Lower 6th, and even that was just because he skipped a year. He treats Mathematics of the highest difficulty as if it were the 2 times table, and he even managed the Biblical feat of teaching me to dance. Because he's also an accomplished Ballroom Dancer. And a Maths whiz. Oh, and he's going to Oxford. To be perfectly honest, he's damn lucky I enjoy his existence, because I can see how people could consider lynching him, he does make you wonder exactly what you've been doing with your life occasionally. But I just can't hate him, he's too nice and too nice to look at. These sorts of crushes are nothing to worry about as long as you don't let them take over your life, and I suppose all I can give in the way of advice here is, well, don't try to emulate these guys too much. They're much better at what they do than you are.


The amount of bones you will break trying to teach yourself the Swing.
Also innocuous are the Innocent crushes. Have you ever just enjoyed someone's company for the sheer fact that they're nice and cute and lovely? No? You only like people for their genitalia? Well I'm ashamed of you, Constant Reader, and you should be too. I don't like Sleepyhead because I wish to have awful, wonderful sex with him, I like him because of his habit of falling asleep in lessons in a very cute manner. Simple as. He even did it while managing to keep his pen in his hand and on the page once, as if he were hoping some mystical force would take over his body during his nap, and solve the equation in the Maths book that he'd been struggling with before he succumbed to snoozing. It's something of a recurring joke: Maths, Biology, English, no subject is too interesting to fall asleep in. He once dribbled on the book we were reading in English, which elicited a reaction somewhere on the spectrum between mild humour and adulation from me. Don't get me wrong; if at some point pre-Cretzal he'd confided in me that he liked guys, my brain and heart would not have been the only organs to express appreciation, but sex isn't the main factor here (shockingly). Again, you don't need too much advice here. Just sit back and enjoy the cuteness.


But not too much, I don't want to be sued for dry-cleaning bills.
But, alas, now we enter murkier waters. The sky turns dark, the sea choppy, and the wind becomes a howling gale, for we are approaching the realm of Cthulhu, my example of a Singularity. It all started so normally - we met, found each other humorous, and became most excellent friends. As in, my friend who'd known me for 5 years was rather put out, and took to insinuating that we were a gay couple. You see, all this was before I came out as Bi, even to myself (more on that in later posts), so it's a mark of how much I loved Cthulhu as a friend when I came out to him first (much more on that in later posts). But, yes, sometimes there's someone who you just click with entirely, as in if they were female, or you were female, or they were gay, you'd be the power couple of the school.

And it damn near drives you mental if none of these things are the case.


1) This is an accurate representation of what I feel like when I consider him.
2) This is the second picture in a row that's to do with exploding heads - a little perturbing.
Do me a favour, Constant Readers, if you ever find yourself spending close to £10 just to deliver a bottle of alcohol you know he likes (that in itself cost £20) to his doorstep, complete with a 7 page handwritten note about your feelings, go home and drink the alcohol while burning the note. Or use the alcohol to fuel the burning if your crush is into spirits. Just don't ever think you can maintain that level of obsession, it is very very not worth it. It'd be easier and probably less psychologically damaging just to murder them (not that I endorse that either). I know it sounds cliché, but sometimes letting go is the best option for both parties. No matter how hard it is.
No, "throwing" doesn't count the same as "letting go". Bad Constant Reader.
As usual, we're open to criticisms, comments and offers of book deals at homojournal@gmail.com.
Until next time,

James

Bonus points if you spotted the Panic! At The Disco quote! Also, "I chime in, haven't you people ever heard of closing the god-damn door," is something that Cthulhu made me think quite a lot.

Sunday 29 April 2012

Survey results: Describe your ideal girlfriend, boyfriend or date.

This week, we asked 10 sixth formers at our college the question: “Describe your ideal girlfriend, boyfriend or person to date”. Here are the results of our survey:
Person no. 1 (male)
  • Hot
  • Genuine
  • Honest
  • Smart
  • Not gay
  • Rather funny
  • Likes ice-cream
  • Bit of a sket
  • Has peng friends that I can get with, when I’ve had enough
  • Most important = 6 o’clock
Person no. 2 (male)
I’m bi first and formost. My ideal boyfriend is someone I can really talk to, but also hunky and sexy. The same for my ideal girlfriend, but for girls, they just need to have a very low number of bitchy friends; what a girl that would be :D

Person no.3 (female)

  • Makes me laugh
  • Kind and nice
  • Funny
  • (6 packs)
  • Good looking/ handsome
Person no. 4 (male)
  • Tenderness
  • Watching “Totoro” on the couch together <3
  • Exceptionally intelligent
  • Doesn’t mind being cared about unconditionally, doesn’t mind showing the same
Person no. 5 (male)
For a boyfriend:
  • Shiney blond hair
  • Medium sized mouth
  • Wide nose (not pointy)
  • Not too muscley
  • Not too hairy (some allowed)
  • Not into female pop-stars
For a girlfriend:
  • Moderate tits (small > big)
  • Small teeth (not horse-like)
  • Bigger eyes
  • Not overly shy
  • Not too thick
Person no. 6 (male)
  • Nice
  • Kind
  • Peng
  • Can take a joke or two
  • Strong-willed
  • Nice face
Person no. 7 (female)
Looks are not a huge factor, but personality-wise, they need to be individual, sure of themselves, and I think an element of mystery about a person is romantic and intriguing. Overall they need to be a nice person, individual and interesting to get to know. They will always be difficult to describe, as it depends on how well we interact.

Person no. 8 (female)

  • Interesting person
  • Independent opinions
  • Not afraid of an argument but willing to compromise
  • Good sense of humour
  • Athletic
  • Too good looking is not a deal breaker
Person no. 9 (female)
  • Funny
  • Interesting
  • Adventurous
  • Understanding
  • Laid back
  • Good looking (but that is down to taste)
  • Not too clingy or possessive
Person no. 10 (female)
  • Funny
  • Taller than me
  • Not too skinny, not too fat, not a body builder
  • Someone who doesn’t take themselves too seriously, and isn’t insecure
  • I have to be attracted to them (personality + looks)
  • Caring
Basically, it appears that most people's ideals tend to be a) someone they find attractive and b) somone they can enjoy being with and communicating with.... who would've guessed, huh?

Saturday 28 April 2012

Why of course my ideal boyfriend is my current boyfriend... *shifty look*

I've been asked this question many times, and many times I have even asked myself, but I am yet to find an answer. I don't believe I have a "type", which I guess is not necessarily the same as an "ideal boyfriend" but I'll think about that later. Are there any traits that I particularly prefer in a guy's looks? Duh! I tend to like them dark (light brown/olive not necessarily black), muscly arms, nicely shaped abs though not too much, tall, handsome, with long (wavy or straight) dark hair with light coloured (blue/green/grey you pick) big eyes and nice full lips… *mouth starts watering*

Of course this only works in theory as somehow I have ended up with this very pale, blond and skinny kid who has little resemblance to a MAN (I love you hun!! xx).  My point is… does it really matter? Perhaps it is just me, but when it comes to actual boyfriends… I really don't care if they are not the hottest person on this Earth! I like them for what they are inside. Cliché I know. Don't get me wrong, I don't think my boyfriend is this hideous human being that should be kept in a dark room, handcuffed to the bed for all eternity… well actually I don't mind that idea! But… what was I talking about again?

I can't say he has gone TOTALLY wrong, I mean, he does have hypnotising blue eyes, lovely full lips, and - once upon a time - this long silky hair (I do like long hair when it suits the person perfectly!) But he is not what I consider aesthetically ideal. Then again I guess we must all learn to  "settle", we will never get the most gorgeous guy we can think of; perfection in flesh DOES NOT EXIST. No matter what Descartes says *faking annoying voice*  "in order to be perfect it must exist"... oh please! I can yearn for this guy as much as I want

Ian Somerhalder (aka Damon Salvatore in Vampire Diaries) who I just love to bits 

But I am not going to get him am I!? So I'll have to just settle with this

Well... there is a slight resemblance (NOT)

Nevertheless, hey, if you have to settle for the looks at least you can ace the personality right!? I don't believe we all want some gorgeous guy who proves himself to be a total and absolute dickhead...maybe. So let's see… what qualities would I like in a guy… These are my top 5 (not necessarily in order, that is asking too much)
  1. Intelligent. Nothing is worse than a brainless guy. I am a clever girl (ok so maybe what I really mean is a nerd), so I will need a guy who understands my nerd talk and fantastic IB jokes.
  2. Funny. Always go for the one that makes you laugh! Plus I also heard/read somewhere that laughter will increase your life span (no I don't believe it but… better safe than sorry right?)
  3. Kind.  I wouldn't want to be with a guy who hits me, but with kind I don't only mean to me, but in general, to people and/or animals. It warms my heart to see a guy giving his change to charity or just some random person on the street asking politely.
  4. Passionate. Well… what can I say? You read it in my post last week (if you didn't you better go and do it now!!)
  5. Authentic. Of course all the above won't matter if it is not for real! People who fake their personalities are really the worst. You are your own person, don't convince people to like you for being something different, cause then they wouldn't really like YOU so what's the point? 
So Mr. Perfect can only be so if he is real. Contradiction (read above)? No. What I mean is, you can fantasise all you want about who your ideal boyfriend may be, but if you give yourself unrealistic expectations, you will never find him! A perfect boyfriend is one that DOES have flaws. You may love some of those so called flaws (I know I do), or find them immensely annoying, but in the end you would not want him any different because… he/she just wouldn't be the same without them (I know I've mostly been talking about "he" but that's just cause I'm straight and like guys so don't take it as an offence, same applies for the other sex). On the other hand, if you don't think so and feel the need to change all his flaws in order to make him "perfect", well then, I truly believe you should consider getting a different boyfriend. If you don't like him, don't be with him. Simple. No buts!

So, yeah, my boyfriend is not perfect, far from it in fact, but he is good enough, or good enough for me (maybe) which is really all that matters (for now). Would I have him any different? Naah, where would the fun be in that?

That's all I can tell you for today (<-- that's a lie, if you want to hear more do e-mail!), so I'll leave you with a quote from The Jungle Book (if you don't like Disney you are an incomplete person and I feel very sorry for you):

"Don't spend your time looking around
For something you want that can't be found
When you find out you can live without it
And then go along not thinking about it
I'll tell you something true
The bare necessities of life will come to you" 

Love,

Miu xx

P.S. Don't forget to e-mail us at homojournal@gmail.com for any questions, comments, request or if you are bored and have nothing better to do. We are available 24/7 (that is 24 minutes every 7 hours) so try your luck!

Friday 27 April 2012

I need a Narnian to come out of that closet...

It’s such a typical thing to talk about: your ideal boyfriend. I do it all the time with some of my closest friends, and yet, I still can’t see Mr. Right even when he’s singing and dancing naked in front of me. I confess that I am slightly over-picky when it comes to my ‘type’, and I realise that my pickiness isn’t exactly going to help me get off the market.
Ben Barnes played Prince Caspian in the second and third Narnia films.
I’m one of those people who preaches that it’s got more to do with personality than looks, as you should never judge a book by its cover – in my experience, the best looking people are full of shit (excuse my French). So for me, my ideal boyfriend needs to be similar to me from a point of view of personality or common interest. He needs to appreciate, if possible even like, the same sort of music as me (music is my life and any of my friends will tell you that), in the same way I can appreciate and like most of the 21st century ‘popular’ music – although, whether or not some of that can be considered music is a whole different kettle of fish. He should be able to laugh at the same sort of things as me, and enjoy the same hobbies as me, and so on.

To the more adventurous out there that sounds really dull, but I’ve been in a relationship before where we were complete opposites, in much the same way that gay is the complete opposite of straight. So maybe I’m not adventurous when it comes to my boyfriend, but at the end of the day, I don’t want to have been in more relationships than I have IB points (although at the rate that it’s going at the moment, that looks like the case…). Anyway, I digress. Once I’ve found the right personality match for me, looks are a bonus, although any single guys out there who think they’re a match, be warned, body hair is a big turn off.

If all else fails, I'd probably get a kick out of Moriarty...
Despite all this, I, like many others, fall victim all too often of doing things the wrong way round. Rather than look for people and judge their compatibility based on their personality and what they might bring to a potential relationship, I find myself picking out all the good-looking guys and building up assumptions on their character based on the shoes they’re wearing, or the sunglasses they’re sporting, or the coffee they’re drinking, or the car they drive. Perhaps it’s a good thing that I’m normally too shy to act on my assumptions, because I’d be bitterly disappointed: they’re all straight anyway.

What is it that I look for in the looks department? Well, let me leave this rather splendid picture here and let your dirty imagination do the rest.
Skandar Keynes, who played Edmund in The Chronicles of Narnia... he'll do nicely.
I forgot to mention that my ideal boyfriend must, at the very least, be bisexual with a preference for men (a Kinsey 4.5), else complications are guaranteed to occur.

Thursday 26 April 2012

Ideals, urgh.

Ideal date

Ah, this brings me back a few months… Mel made me draw one, in a survey she handed me, but I always panic when asked questions like these, because I always change my mind. I know that whatever I choose, it will evidently not be my ideal. Like the question: what is your favourite food?
I will eventually write either a) what I want to eat at that moment or b) the first thing that pops into my mind.

"You have won: a life time's supply of your favorite food!"
"my favorite food... Tarantula!"
"okies...." *stares* "if thats what you like to eat.. "
"Wait, Nooooooe!!!"
Also, I am a realist, which to some people, means pessimist. Whist others fantasize about their wonderful ideals, I know that reality is never going to be as great, and we will always be left disappointed. Pessimistic, much? No. I like to fantasize about all the things that could possibly go wrong instead, which leaves room for improvement.

Take yesterday, for example. I was scheduled for a very minor nose operation. Basically, they burn the inside and veins of your nose. All week I dreaded it, imagining the pain, but when I finally had the procedure, of course it was fine. Just uncomfortable, and a bit suffocating, due to the numbing stuff that made my throat and gums go numb (is that supposed to happen? :// ), but fine.

Now, if I had fantasized about the wonderful-ness of the procedure, I would have been extremely disappointed, maybe would be too scared to go back for more nose-burning in five weeks time. But me being me, I’m fine; a bit disappointed at the lack of pain, I would've expected it to hurt more, but it was fine, totally fine.

Not Pink horse-drawn carriage ... :'(

So dudes and dudettes, stop idealizing something that’ll never happen, expect the worst case scenario, and when it goes good like it’s supposed to, you won’t be disappointed.

Ideal girlfriend/boyfriend/genderless-friend

This is an easy one: someone that doesn’t runaway when they realise what a weirdo I am. Chasing after them, tackling them to the ground, tieing them up and “silencing” them is too much effort.

I didn't tie her up....
But on a more serious note.. I don’t really do the ideal thing.. I like who I’m with at the moment, you could say that she’s my ideal girlfriend at the moment. I don’t have anything I want to change about her, she’s perfect just the way she is, and changing her would make Mel not Mel, and move her away from the ideal.. does my logic make sense? I hope so..


Ideal boyfriend… a male version of Mel? Mel with a penis? …now that’s a weird thought. I think my taste leans towards girls, or the feminine features..


*gets a phone call*

“What? An asteroid? Heading straight to earth?I.. I better evacuate then!”

*Flys away on magic pink bouncy ball*


Eli x

- I'm tired. The post was getting too awkward, I had to stop, I was starting to soundlike a perverted old man, considering transvestite prostitutes (no offence okie, it’s totally ok for you, just not for me). Sowwwweeee *bows Asian-apology-style* >.<

Wednesday 25 April 2012

Perfection is a Broken Sherbet Lemon

So I want to reassure you this isn’t going to turn into a rant about how everyone is perfect and how you are a unique little snowflake just the way you are, because let’s face it, there are seven billion of us, so chances are at least one other person on this rock known as Earth is pretty similar to you. I’d like to make the point that even though everyone may fantasise about their dream partner, in reality it is not only a) impossible, but also b) not as great as it seems.

Think about your entire life so far; have you ever met anyone you would consider perfect, of those you have actually got to know? It’s all very well saying “omg James Masters is the perfect guy”, but if you haven’t spent a week in close proximity with him (as in living together, not stalking), you have no guarantee that he doesn’t use the bathroom with the door open or snore. There are a lot of people who waste their time trying to be their own idea of perfect, this too is futile; your efforts are sure to be so for a large percentage of people you encounter.

The next point that I would like to raise is that if you spent a lot of time around someone you considered perfect, things would become boring, annoying and bad for your self-esteem. I would like to cite this fictional but rather awesome example:
Questionable Content
My favourite webcomic features one woman who was driven crazy be her perfect boyfriend and cheated on him. His response? "I'm disappointed, but I think we can make this work, is there anything I can do to make you happier in this relationship?" Not what she wanted to hear.

A more applicable real life example, that you may be able to relate to, is that one person in your class that seems to have it all sorted. The one I know (let’s call her C) is in my physics class, she works super hard, always does her homework, has a place to study at Oxford and is very musically talented.  In short, I idolise her. I’m sure that there are areas of her life she feels inadequate in that I just don’t know about yet, but that doesn’t help my ego when she tells me she’s done roughly 150% of the revision I have. So, to sum up, she is a lovely person but a) it would be very strange is she were indeed perfect and b) she makes me feel like a failure. Imagine if you lived with this person and were not as awesome; I’m not sure it would end well.

Another completely fictional example is from a book I read a few years ago (of which I cannot remember the characters names, title or author), in which the protagonist has a near death experience and blurts out her secrets, including her plan for a perfect date. I could ramble about this for ages but to synopsisize, a man overhears her and takes her on this perfect date. One element was she wished to drink pink champagne, which of course he ordered for her. However she sees some fancy cocktails going past and laments her loss of the freedom to try them. Perfection is boring.

Have you ever tried arguing with a perfect person, assuming this rare breed does in fact exist, or falling short of that, someone with the moral highground? It’s no fun, and coming from a long line of bitches I need my daily argument. Also if you never argue or get mad at each other, how can you have make-up sex?
So to conclude (the phrase every English teacher hates to see) if you had a perfect partner it would be boring, annoying and bad for your self-esteem. Which is exactly why my current boyfriend is perfect. 

p.s the reason broken sherbet lemons is perfect is because it increases the surface area of the sherbet, so you get maximum fizz, which by the way, is an endothermic reaction.

Note: I'm very sorry the comic in the post didn't work out as well as I'd hoped (as some kind anon pointed out), here's the link to the specific strip http://questionablecontent.net./view.php?comic=1028, but I highly recommend reading the entire thing, yes, all 2000 strips. 

Tuesday 24 April 2012

Pans Labyrinth

My ideal boyfriend or girlfriend. Hummm a tricky one.

Let’s start with girlfriend, that's easy. I guess she’d be a little shorter than me, half Japanese, with sharp teeth and massive eyes. Oh wait that’s Eli. What a coincidence, we’re already dating, how convenient.

No, in all seriousness. My ideal girlfriend. She has either small or large boobs, or in-between ones. She has pale skin or dark skin or red skin or blue skin or green skin. She is short or tall, fat or thin. You get the idea. My ideal girlfriend doesn’t exist. There are features that turn me on and things I admire personality wise. But If I stuck them all together in one person I’m sure it would be horrible. The same goes for an ideal boyfriend.

And now for the awkward confession. Being bisexual puts me in a dilemma. I would say I’m 50/50 girls and guys, depending on the girls and guys in question. Which leaves me with a strange desire to date a transexual. I have an appreciation for vagina and a flat chest, yes, but there’s just something about the combination of male and female, dick and tits that turns me on. Cross dressing is hot. A balance of masculine and feminine even hotter.

Does that make me weird? Maybe. Who cares? But that's exactly why I have trouble with the bisexual label. I’m pretty sure getting confused by gender and transsexuals makes me a pansexual. It makes me sound a little like the fawn from ‘Pans Labyrinth’ so I try to stay away from it.

Lots of love,
Mel, your favourite pan/bi blogging God

Monday 23 April 2012

The first picture is slightly misleading as to the direction this post goes...

Instead of directly going into a post that starts “My ideal date would be…”, I figured that I’d begin by outlining the date that I’m currently on. For some background, me and Cretzal are currently in Spain, because of reasons, and the fact that he was already here and wanted my companionship. Ideally, this would be brilliant, I would be writing about how I’ve so far enjoyed 2 full days of blissful peace interrupted only by the welcome insertion of sex into the day plan.

Insertion, always appreciated on dates.
However, due to the accepted fact that my fate is being written by the unholy offspring of a sitcom writer and Death from the Final Destination series, I do not have such niceties to report (well, not on the peace-front at least). 2 days into what is supposed to be a 3-and-a-bit day date/holiday, and I can already count at least 4 instances that would’ve had the most amorous dater questioning whether or not they should’ve accepted the nice religious person’s offer of a life of solitude and chastity at the Monastery/Nunnery. I suppose if I’m going to complain about the date, I may as well start from the beginning, as all good crime witnesses should.

“It was horrible, his love life was going so well until he brought out the birdcage and the whip.” – My Brain.
First and foremost, the timing of this little inter-country jaunt could scarcely have been worse, with the only possible exception being if I had journeyed to Spain the day after Justin Bieber announces that he’ll be touring the country for a year. I study the International Baccalaureate, which for those of you who had friends and family that loved you and desperately talked you out of even looking it up, is an alternative to A-Levels, established in 1968 by a small group of teachers and Beelzebub. It requires you to do 20,000x the work of A-Levels, and exams start on the 2nd of May.

Look at the date in the corner of the screen.

Do you see an issue with this?

I do.

THAT´S IN A VERY SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME.

An inaccurate picture; the IB consists of 6 subjects. 
Why am I in Spain? I mean, yes, Cretzal is lovely, and certain parts of him are even more lovely, but will dating him get me into Durham University? Will he pay me £50,000 a year? Does he provide me with dental insurance? No! I need a University education and an excellent job for these things! “Cretzal-pleasurer” doesn’t count as an excellent job! The first step to being Master of the Universe is doing well in exams! So I should be revising, not spending 60% of the day entangled in bed sheets! Thus we have Issue #1 with this date: I should not be here, I should be learning two years’ worth of Biology, English, Economics, Russian, Philosophy and Maths. 

This is honestly what I’m supposed to be doing at the moment. 
And that’s only one issue. Think of Spain. Picture it in your head. Is it sunny? I’d imagine so, because if it isn’t you’re either stupid or picturing night-time because you’re a vampire. Spain is always sunny, like God forgot to set the timer that turns the sun off every so often before he left for his long cosmic weekend. Or, at least, that was my impression of it. Turns out, as soon as I stepped off the plane, I was greeted by clouds as dark as my soul, and the imminent threat of a drenching. You see, instead of the perma-bright oasis that everyone expects, Spain is actually subject to changes in weather, such as from cloudy to foggy, or beautifully sunny to a tempest.

Magic Dukes and "airy spirits" excepted.
Now don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that I particularly had any intentions of spending extended periods of time out in the open, as me and Cretzal aren’t into being watched from behind trees, but still, it would be nice if Spain had the decency to be sunny and inviting rather than attempting to drown me on my first day.

And all of these things are before I’ve even reached and entered (Brain: “Cretzal?”) the house. Cretzal is in ownership of two charming, amiable Galgos called Sebas and Ella, which are basically Spanish Greyhounds. 99/100 times, these two canines are the most calm, friendly and happy creatures in all of Spain. Affable, conciliatory, loving. Sorry, I just can’t fit enough synonyms for friendly into this article to describe these two hounds’ usual demeanours.

They meet with Max the Yorkshire Terrier every Friday - they say they’re “meeting for coffee”.  No word on why Cretzal believed this, or how they vocalised this untruth.
However, while they were all of those wonderful adjectives at first, I’ve come to the conclusion that this was all just a ruse, that they were using to lure me into a false sense of security. This suspicion was confirmed when Sebas had a full, complete psychotic attack on the eve of the 2nd night and tried to eat Ella. Now, I’m not that comfortable with dogs, so when a dog approximately 23.6 times the size of me expresses murderous intentions within 2 countries of me, I begin mentally assigning my most prized personal possessions to my nearest and dearest. This is not conducive to sexy.

No, Cretzal, I’m not leaving you the lube, it was your bloody dog. 
So, James, I hear you asking, why hasn’t Cretzal cried himself to death under the dining table or ritually sacrificed you to Aphrodite in order to improve the quality of his dates? I mean, he has been sitting next to you (or lying next to me, or straddling me, or any other position you care to imagine, you pervert) the entire time you've been writing this post, so why hasn’t he intervened somehow, by cutting the internet? Or your throat? Well, Constant Reader, that’s because he knows about the twist to this article, which I’ve orchestrated with all the skill and deftness of M. Night Shyamalan.

My plane out here crashed, no survivors, Cretzal is actually my twin and he's writing this for me via possession. 
And that’s that this is my perfect date. I arrived here stressed, damp and was immediately terrified by a rabid dog, and Cretzal just accepted me with open arms and cold iced tea. This is the mark of an excellent date. The person you’re with is far more important than the condition of the sky, the sanity of the fauna or the proximity of the earth shatteringly important exams. So I suppose I’ll have lots of perfect dates, because for the foreseeable future I quite like Cretzal, and that’s all I really need.

Oh my dear lord that was saccharine, normal service will be resumed next week. If you wish to complain about the diabetes you developed because of that post, feel free to email us at homojournal@gmail.com.

Until next time dearests,

James. 

I take great pleasure (literally) in the fact that I was in bed with Cretzal, ferociously naked the entire time spent writing this.

Sunday 22 April 2012

Guest Slave Sam...

Good afternoon all. I’m Sam, and I have decided, against all odds, to contribute my thoughts this week on the subject of fetish. I ought to first make clear that my affiliation with LGBT issues is purely “political”; much to my mother’s displeasure, I’m straight (or at least, so I tell my girlfriend) but I have long sympathized with and supported LGBT rights movements. Which brings me neatly to my chosen topic. When I first thought about what I might write about fetishes I found myself at a loss, while not exactly ignorant of the world of sexual deviance, I’m sad to say I’ve hardly participated myself. Now, I’ve dabbled in some mildly adventurous sexual practices, from light bondage to semi-public, but I’d be hard pushed to identify any “fetish” I can call my own. I mean… I have a deeply unhealthy devotion to pianos and my brother and I enjoy making highly inappropriate incest jokes (“’Sup bro, looking fit today- I would” again, much to my mother’s displeasure, most especially when she’s the subject), but I don’t think either of those really counts.

But then I got it; I do have a fetish, you might not have heard of it, it’s not talked about often but I have a feeling it’s actually fairly common. I am completely mad about vaginal sex. You heard. If you’re not sure what it is I wouldn’t worry, there are some very informative articles and even some video footage on the Internet. It’s quite disgusting, it almost always involves a fair quantity of mucus and sweating; most girls I know completely refuse to indulge it (at least with me at any rate). But what can I say, I just can’t get off without it (ok, that might not be true, but suspend your disbelief so I can make my point), one way or another it has to be involved. Now, I know, I know, you don’t want to hear about my sex life, but that’s sorta my point- no one wants to hear about anyone’s sex life (again, not true, there many people who love hearing about other people’s sex lives, might even qualify as a fetish for some of them, but again bear with me- I’m getting to a point of sorts) because sex lives are almost invariably disgusting (that is, at least, if they’re any good).

In the course of the LGBT rights movement a great many “arguments” have been made by the bigoted masses as to why this group of people are and that this kind of love is unacceptable, immoral and, most importantly, gay. But, however clever, theological or morally authoritarian these arguments appear to some, ultimately they all boil down to a simple and pathetic truth- bigots find gay sex, gay love and most importantly, gays, disgusting (oh and don’t forget transvestites and transsexuals, those guys/gals clearly give ‘em the creeps too). Because of this, they sought to ostracize and oppress gays at every turn. In truth, the same thing happens (sadly with a much larger crowd of disgustees) with people who engage in fetishes of some kind or another. The world finds their given fetish so unspeakable, so incomprehensible, so damned unpleasant to think about that we deliberately make outcasts of them. Now mostly, this takes place on a purely social level- we are openly disparaging about them in various media, we strongly discourage them from being open or honest about their sexual practices and if they fail to comply or kick up a fuss, we quickly outcast them. However, there are some fetishes to which there is a legislative barrier in this country.

In 1993 there was a legal case in which a group of very serious sado-masochists who were tried and convicted of assault on one another, despite all the activities having been consensual and private (the groups actions were discovered by accident by the local police force) because in this country, you cannot consent to actual or grievous bodily harm (except in boxing… an exception made because we… like boxing… but sex is dirty). All the arguments made to uphold this decision fall flat on their face when looked at with a lucid mind, revealing (much to everyone’s shock and horror I’m sure) that the real reason these convictions were made was because people found their actions disgusting. Heck, I make jokes about incest (“Hey mum, looking pretty fit today- I would”) and I found them disgusting! But my finding them disgusting doesn’t mean these people shouldn’t be allowed to indulge any sexual fantasy involving consenting, able minded adults. My point is this, just because more people share my fetish for vaginal sex, doesn’t mean I should have the right to practice my fetish, while those with more outlandish fetishes are forced into, at best, secrecy and, at worst, repression.

It is my hope that with this contribution I will ensure that I am asked to write for this blog again, fingers crossed, or file a restraining order either one.

Saturday 21 April 2012

Getting busy with my fetish...

Well well, I am sorry to say that I will not be able to give you your much deserved post of the day. Dear readers, please forgive me but I am sure you will understand as under such circumstances... you would have done the same.

As a prepping for today's post, I decided to spend all day yesterday (and good part of this morning for that matter) indulging in some of my favourite fetishes - as well as the normal stuff people do out there (or so I've heard). Well now I know how silly that was (no, of course I don't regret it, it was fucking amazing!), for some reason I actually believed it would be an excellent idea: I could do a clear analysis of fetishes and compare such experience with the "normal/common" thing; after all, it is known that often the best way to learn is through experience, right? Oh, I can say I have indeed learnt a lot, but what I didn't realise were the consequences that would come with the experience.

Fetishes are by definition arousing, often entertaining, sometimes amusing, but ALWAYS distracting. If you can walk away from your "fetish", if you can say "let's give the cat a rest and have some breakfast", or "enough with the swastika encrusted dildos already, I have maths homework", then it can hardly be described as a fetish. Fetishes are all consuming. When indulging in a fetish (with any degree of success) do not expect to have any kind of reasoned or clear thought. It should just be "my goodness, this spanking is magnificent!" all the way.You can therefore see how I was not about to take out the laptop to report my findings, however interesting and entertaining they were.


"Bestiality killed the cat" - should have given it a rest

At this point, I would like to specify that by fetish I don't mean "give me your shoes or I will not be able to cum" but rather "yes, this is nice... now tie me up and make it even better!" So my advice is... you won't know until you try! Sure not all fetishes are suited for everyone, each person has different sexual preferences, but in Italy they say "il mondo e' bello perche' vario" which is a nicer way of saying: if we were all the same, the world would be a pretty shitty and boring place to live in.

Don't live closed up, escape the daily routine, explore, have fun! I am sure there is a fetish out there for you to discover and remember, it does not have to be taken to the extreme. It doesn't even have to be a regular thing, just a way of spicing things up with your partner every now and again; never underestimate the importance of a good sex life ;)


Pretending to be sims... try it it's fun! (as in "haha" fun, not "hot" fun)

So what are you waiting for? Go on, there is the whole of internet to explore (unless you have a fetish for homo-journal, which would be totally understandable).

Well I need to get back to my "unutterable deeds" and I will see you next week!

Love,

Miu xx

P.S. Don't forget to e-mail us at homojournal@gmail.com for any questions, comments, request or if you are bored and have nothing better to do. We are available 24/7 (that is 24 minutes every 7 hours) so try your luck!

Friday 20 April 2012

The fetishes of animals are almost as bad as our own...

Since this week is all about fetishes, I’d like to take this opportunity to draw your attention to the fetishes of our pets. Everybody who has a pet, be it a dog, cat, ferret, owl, rat, toad or goldfish, will know that our beloved animals are all a little crazy-in-the-mind.

I have two cats and a dog, all of whom satisfy the crazy-in-the-mind criteria, and my aunt has four dogs and a cat, who all satisfy said criteria even more so (aunt included!). Let me start with my cats; they are brother and sister from the same litter and really rather gorgeous (even though she doesn’t let anybody touch her). Both have an absurd fetish for paper, and general destruction of most things they come across (you should see the state of the sofa). And it seems like it isn’t just my cats; if James’ anecdotes are anything to go by, his abundance of feline friends are just as destructive, and my best friend’s cats take their destruction further and pierce your skin (convenient if the piercing place down the road is closed). Clearly, we see this as unnecessary destruction, but this is all part of the well known plan for feline world domination, which is what all the fetishes that cats possess ultimately lead to.

Dogs on the other hand, are generally too stupid to plan a canine revolution and take over the world with their bizarre fetishes. For example, my dog seems to get his kicks from raiding the bin and my mum’s handbag in search of chocolate, and then proceeding to roll over on the carpet in my room while making what I can only assume are dog-orgasm noises… If that would result in dogs taking over the world, then I fear for our future.

My aunt’s dogs, on the other hand, while they are much more intelligent than my dog, will stop at nothing to get their daily kicks. One of them has a fetish for my feet (and only mine, I’m worried), meaning that whenever I’m there I can only walk around the house wearing shoes as otherwise I’ll have this dog hanging off of my toes. Another of her dogs (or maybe it’s the same one, I can’t remember) has learnt to open wardrobe doors to reach socks for her to destroy. Other fetishes that these dogs possess are just a bit weird and frankly dull in comparison.

Unfortunately, I don’t own any ferrets or owls or rats or toads or goldfish, so I’m not sure what their fetishes are, but if you own any of those, or others, let us know of their fetishes by leaving a comment or e-mailing us at homojournal@gmail.com!

Thursday 19 April 2012

Fetishes...

I wish.
You should probably know this already, but in case you have forgotten, I shall tell you. This week is strange fetish week. *does crazy dancing*

What Is A Fetish?
I’m sure many of you already have images in their mind as to what would qualify as a ‘Strange fetish’, but we in homojournal HQ had some trouble actually coming up with a  fitting and yet satisfying definition. I was sure that I’d read somewhere that a fetish for something (ie elbows), meant that that poor fetish-holder NEEDED that something in order for them to get-off. But others were not satisfied with that definition, and I certainly was not going to go through all of my collection of erotica from over the years to find that passage from which I had obtained all my fetish ideologies. It would take me too long. And I can’t risk asking someone for assistance, for fear of mentally scaring them for life. How disappointing. Sorry for the vague definition, you get the picture though, oui?

yus.. this is my fetish.. :)
Is It Ok To Have A Fetish?
I think it’s perfectly acceptable to have a fetish, and most fetishes are completely ok, as long as they don’t involve the harm of anyone or of any animals. If you have fetishes that involve such things, it’s probably a good idea to go see a psychiatrist.. but there are pleanty of good ways of venting out..  looking at hentai manga and anime online, using Japanese sex-dolls – they are very realistic, reading erotica…

These days, the interwebs is such that it can cater to ANY of your strange fetishes. Just a few clicks of a button will find you a number to call for an appointment to clean a lady's house, naked except for an adult dyper, while she watches you judging and commanding; if that suits your fancy. There are also thousands of online galleries to satisfy you momentarilly, from the very common shoe-fetish, to fetishes for religious and sacred objects (Hierophillia)... and weirder.
Apparently it feels good..

As long as there is no harm being caused to ANYONE, or minors, I repeat, it’s probably ok J

How do I tell people?
Now, the slight problem is that others, who are less understanding, will think you’re weird. Like the example James brought forward earlier in the week, about the fish lady.. if you have an elbow fetish, or you really really like trees, when is the right time to tell people?

I have no idea. It’s probably best to not tell people. We Brits don’t really go around talking about our sex lives (ok, maybe we do… but at least we don’t with family… i.e. grandmas), and no body really needs to know, unless they’re you’re sex partner.

does this need a caption?
If it’s your partner, it might not be a good idea to suddenly start licking their feet spontaneously, or rubbing yourself against his or her elbow. It’s probably best to say things outside of the bedroom, just mention it casually, see how she/he reacts, and go from there. If they’re not understanding, and they start freaking out and screaming, you know they’re probably not for you. Time to move on.

Now I’ve lost my ‘normal’ girlfriend, what do I do?
Fetish clubs! You’re most likely to find people who have similar fetishes, or like to be on the receiving end of them fetishes, in fetish clubs. You can probably find out locations of them on the internet. In London, I’ve heard that there is an event twice a month (I think) called “erotica” that has loads of stools for your sexy needs, and also live demonstrations of Japanese rope-tieing.

If fetish clubs don’t work, you can try online formns, but you have to be careful, you don’t know what kind of perverts can be hanging around there :///  some may be worse than you…

eli x

ps, follow us, comment us, email us etc etc etc it'll make me love you >.<

Links you might like

Don't tell mutti how I really broke the laptop mouse
  1. Top 10 fetishes on Askmen.com
  2. Fetish Advice on the gay pop culture website
  3. Advice for dating a footfetishist
  4. 'Whats your sexual fetish' quiz
  5. Sex! The full Kinkiness quiz
  6. The ultimate purity exam!
  7. the marquis fetish magazine website (i think it's in german... but interesting cover pictures!)
  8. Worldwide fetish news - the fetishistas
  9. The freedom of fetish podcasts on the website