Travel to London for reharsals is now sorted out. One of the actors, Christine R, has correllated all the routes, transport methods and timetables to get 7 people to the theatre for under £75[1]. Being a civil servant and a mother and a housewife, she could be relied upon to do what needed to be done. And being lazy sods, the rest of just waited till she did.

Accommodation in London is another matter. Max's original plan was to put up all the actors and crew in hotels. When someone told him this was not entirely inexpensive, he decided to rent a house for a week. When someone else told him this was both expensive and had to be arranged months in advance, he quietly asked Richard P the producer for help.

Richard has found us some friends who have spare bedrooms in Hackney. Simon M and myself have been allocated a room, presumably on the grounds that we're a pair of fat old poofs and therefore sleeping together, so need to...um, sleep together.

There's the small matter that we're charging £10 a ticket and no one has learned all their lines. And we have two days to do so. And we get the final version of the script the day before the performance.

Compare with another local company who are in late rehearsal four months before the curtain goes up. Ah well, at least we'll have a sympathetic audiance of likeminded politicos and no hostile reviews to worry about. Except possibly from Socialist Worker

When not failing to learn my lines, and not having pointless extended discussions on Outpost Gallifrey about split infinitives and gay marriage[2], I've been delving into the murky world of Tazzy and Piggy, a pair of foul mouthed northern bearqueens with a chatroom, discussion forum and webcam.

They want to know if I'll be posting filthy pictures of myself here. Well, I have no plans at the moment to show my frankly amazing genitals (and even more amazing paunch) anywhere outside a Yahoo chatroom to 20 married American men who've never seen a real foreskin before.

These two blogs might be what you're looking for. And this is the remains of GQueer.

Right, that's quite enough of that. I must learn at least enough of my lines to not look like I'm reading from a script. And then read up on darwinism and creationism for the forum afterwards. And pack everything I need for four days in London. Oh god.

[1] Thus making it completely unnecessary for me to spend £20 on a railcard.
[2] Apparantly both are bad taste and against logic.


  1. Now that you've discovered Tazzy and Piggy, there's no going back. I'm addicted to that new Poofter Cam they've installed. Gave me a right fright though when I doubled clicked on the cam and the image of Piggy's face filled the screen.

    I've seen a real foreskin or two (okay, maybe more) so go ahead and post a pic. Americans need to learn that foreskin is fun.

  2. Foul mouth northern bearqueens?

    Cheeky cunt.

    If you don't post any pics of your genitals, we'll make a picture up instead.

    *target in sights*

  3. And MJ missed an opportunity to ogle last night...

    I forgot the camera was on and was wandering around in the nuddy.

    Thankfully, no-one was watching at the time.

  4. Saw Piggy in his boxer shorts last night. Put me off my dinner.

  5. Thank you for sharing that experience with us, MJ. I think you've just helped me with my diet.

    P&T - I'm now far too intrigued to see what genitals you could "make up" for me to post my own.