Happy Pride! & It's a funny old world!

Well, what can I say, it's been a few days since I last plopped a few words on the blog. Jo and Carolyn came down on Tuesday and let's just say a nice day was had, then a very eventful evening, which ended in the most mega row of epic proportions, the like of which I hope I never see again.

My birthday came and went and now I'm another year older, yes, I'm now facing the last couple of years of my thirties! Oh fuck, it's all down here from now on then! I mite as well be dead, for every poof knows that 40 in gay years is 80 and well past it! It's gay pride in Brighton today, an amazing celebration of diversity and spectacle. I watched the Parade with Angus and three of his lovely friends, one of which was over from Hong Kong! Then we walked up to Preston Park, which is where the biggest free festival Europe has ever seen takes place. The sun was burning down and I did feel a little frazzled as I sunk into my tinnies!

Jake was there as well as a few others, so met up with him for a little bit and had a boogy in the Wild Fruit tent. Then after chilling for a while with Angus it was homeward bound for me. So here I am, doing this while I'm waiting for some nosh to cook and then after that I'm heading down St James Street. The street at the bottom of my road has been closed for a bit of a street party, so no doubt there will be much drinking and merriment on the streets of Brighton. I'll take some piccies and share them with you next time. Oh and a full report of all the action, which I'm sure there will be plenty of!

It's a funny old world you know, there are so many different cultures, beliefs and customs that it sometimes boggles and confuses the mind. I mean there I was walking along St James Street here in good old Brighton the other morning and I thought how simply cosmopolitan the little world at the end of my road is, for example at the bottom of the street is an exotic grocer, selling all manor of things from all over the world. Then a little way up is a traditional continental Deli and further up is a Polish coffee shop, complete with Polish products and Polish signs.

It got me thinking as I perused the shelves of various pickled things, the like of which I would never in my wildest nightmares of dreamt of pickling, of how various nationalities have such different customs from one another. I mean, for example if your in Turkey, Brazil or even Germany, don't do the little OK sign with your thumb and forefinger in the shape of an 'o' to show you're fine, because in those countries it's a sign of well, lets just say an orifice of which you are most likely sitting on right now!

In most parts of Africa, including Morocco it's considered very rude to shake hands or eat with your left hand, because in their culture and history the left hand is used only for cleaning the above mentioned orifice! The thumbs up signal in Iran would get you in trouble, over there it has the same meaning as the finger! It's unacceptable in India for a woman to initiate a handshake, it's also considered rude if you clear your plate when invited as a guest to dinner. It means you're still hungry and your host hasn't fed you enough. Here in England a nod of the head means yes and shaking it left and right means no, it's the complete opposite in Bulgaria, Greece and former Yugoslav countries.

If you eat nosily and belch afterwards here in Blighty you're considered common and uncouth, yet in Japan slurping up ya noodles is a good sign as is belching after a meal in many Arab lands. It's all very confusing if you ask me, in some countries it's good form to offer a kiss, others it not, do point here and don't point there, it's a wonder we don't get in to more trouble when we're travelling overseas. Mind you, it's not hard to see how visitors get completely mystified when coming to England, after all we find it hard to comprehend each other half the time!

For example, my friend David has some pretty strange sayings that until he uttered them I'd never heard before and we come from the same country. Indulge me for a moment as I take you into David's world where some of these sayings and phrases are common place. The first indicating extreme tiredness "I could sleep on a chickens lip" and onwards "Might as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb" another one that has my mind boggled "No need to spoil the ship for a h'peth of ta" or even this one - "If if's and and's were pot's and pan's they'd be no need for tinkers" But it's not just David I sometimes have difficulty understanding, at times when I'm on the phone to Si up in Newcastle, or James in Glasgow, I have to ask them to slow down their speech by half so I can understand them. With such a wide variety of regional accents in such a small country it's a wonder anyone from outside can understand us. But hey, that's gotta be changing, I mean, the most common last nights in England are Singh and Patel and the most popular dish - curry!

Sometime over the last weekend I read that TV Chef Antony Worral Thmpson has his fingers and his tongue insured for £500,000. That's a lot of money in any ones world, mind you I'm sure there are a lot of people, just like me that would club together to give him that amount of dosh to have his tongue cut out. He don't 'alf go on and on sometimes, but his food's not bad. I also read that David Beckham's legs are insured for £40 million, which is a little much I fear, surely his face earns him more than his legs do these days. It's strange the variety of things you have have insured, for example when I was working on radio and doing voices I had my on voice insured, after all it was my way of earning money. In those days it was good, if I had a cold and sore throat and couldn't work, I got paid for being sick more than I would have done if I'd have worked!

Right that's ya lot for now, just time to leave you with another last word from the mouth of babes. Young children say the funniest of things!

It was that time, during the Sunday morning service, for the children's sermon. All the children were invited to come forward. One little girl was wearing a particularly pretty dress and, as she sat down, the pastor leaned over and said, "That is a very pretty dress. Is it your Easter Dress?" The little girl replied, directly into the pastor's clip-on microphone, "Yes, and my Mom says it's a bitch to iron."