The Gay Blade

Well, it's probably a good thing it isn't, or nothing would get done, but the thought came to me as I was sitting here waiting for the plumbers to arrive. If life were like porn, the plumbers would be hot, maybe one in his 40s, dark and hairy, strong but a little gut going on there, one in his 20s, friendly, eager and smooth, both wearing overalls undone down to the crotch cause of the heat, and that are somehow constantly threatening to fall off and reveal that big hard tool that all plumbers always walk around with. After fiddling with their tools and a couple of subtle comments and some serious eye contact, well, it'd all be on. But would your loo ever get fixed? After you'd all had so much fun together, would it even be possible to say "The tap over the laundry sink is dripping too" - bit of a come-down really. Just think of all the trades that'd be so much more interesting if they were just like in the pornos: electricians, pizza delivery boys, mech...

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Let's talk about you and me. Or, more generally, all of us fags out there in the wide world. Gay men have a reputation, deserved or not, for being sexually adventurous, and for having way more sex than straights. Just how far this reputation matches reality is hard to say. There is certainly more than a grain of truth to it, although not a few gay men do lead dull suburban lives just like so many straights. But overall, I'd argue, we have historically been more sophisticated and wide-ranging in our sexual behaviour than not. After all, it was, and is still, easy for two guys to get together for nothing more than a shared orgasm. No worries about pregnancy and marriage, just a bit of fun between consenting adults. Or even a group of consenting adults. Or two bored consenting adults filling in 15 minutes of lunch break. And the bigger the city, the more developed, the more sophisticated the range of venues, types and activities that are available. Let's face it - Amsterdam ...

One of my oldest friends, Paul, in Sydney, sent me an invite to his 50th. Luckily I was able to go. But 50! I can remember going to friends' 21sts, 30ths, 40ths but this is the first 50th I've been asked to. And my own 50th is a few years off yet, but I am looking forward to it. I guess the oldest gay friend I have is in his 70s, and the youngest in his teens: I enjoy having that range of people and views in life. But it made me think about how long we've known each other - it'll be about 30 years now. We met when we were both going to Auckland Uni, he was a couple of years ahead of me. He was flatting up the road from my family home, and I can't quite remember now how we met. All I know is he forms part of a core group of my dearest and oldest friends. When we meet up again it's always just so easy and warm and funny and joyful. He's a great guy. 30 years is along time to know someone, especially from our generation when so many of us died so young. We'...

I was talking with various friends the other night in the bar, and the topic of abuse and violence in gay relationships came up. I was amazed at how widespread it is. Some guys viewed it as an inevitable part of men being together, and not too damaging. Others were less sanguine about it. For me, violence in a relationship would equal the automatic end of it. It's over. Locks changed. Police called. It's just not acceptable for me. And then later this week I was talking with someone else and he told me of being in a violent realtionship when he was younger. I still just have this visceral reaction - you leave if he hits you - it's that simple. Easy to say I know, but I think that's how I'd react. But violence and abuse can take many forms, it doesn't just have to be physical. Emotional and mental violence, manipulation, guilt, insults and undermining can also be powerfully aggressive ways to attack the person you're with, the person you're supposed to l...

I was having "the talk" with a young gay man recently. Trying to make sure he looked after himself, explaining about how HIV works, how much it sucks to have it etc, and after a bit he said to me: "But you've had it for years and you're fine!" It was one of those moments, when you think "Arggghhh!" Yes, I am living well. Yes, compared to where I was 10 - 15 years ago, I feel like the Six Million Dollar Man. I never thought I'd be alive at this stage of my life, and neither did my Drs. In the mid 90s I nearly died. I was in and out of hospital with PCP and other nasty conditions. My body weight dropped down to 50 kgs and I'm in the mid 80s now, where I should be. I can remember one of the worst nights in hospital when they were trying to get my temperature down, and I had my hands in basins of ice water, a fan blowing chilled air over me. I was delirious. I couldn't get out of bed to shit. I couldn't move. I was weak, powerless, and ...

Young men often do not realise the dazzling power of their beauty, of a smile, or of a forearm carelessly draped on a thigh. Possessed of such unwitting power, I can’t help but admire it. I once had it. I didn’t know I had it though. I doubt they do either. I would love to fuck Robert Downey Jr. And Sean Penn. Or get them to fuck me. Getting spit-roasted is always fun. I’ve been thinking about the punk/disco wars in Auckland of the late 70s, early 80s a bit. It was a real mark of who you were, how you saw yourself, depending on what look you took, what music you listened to. I remember Ruff (RIP – burnt to death in a fire in London rescuing her Chanel suits -seriously) going to a concert in just a black garbage bag, torn fishnets and black stilettos, and lots of makeup. I wore makeup, eye shadow streaked on my cheek, and my hair was high and hard. There were fights outside Babes, one of the main discos, in Eliot St? I can’t remember. We sneered at Billy Idol for being a fake punk. We ...