...did my charm trickle dry? eBoy1 has stopped emailing, claiming to be busy (with his job or with his new man I'm not sure) ending an ongoing stream of email contact that I was becoming emotionally reliant on. I got that flutter in my stomach when my inbox would load and, crikey, that's something I never thought I'd say. And although nothing was ever said (or readable between the lines) I do wonder if at an earlier point I missed an opportunity to re-route the downhill slide to "friendship". It's less that I feel I may have missed the boat than I may have missed the whole bloody Armada. What if he was possibly "it" and he's getting it somewhere else but may have once thought I was it too?



eBoy2 has stopped emailing after I said I couldn't see him on Saturday night because it's R.'s last night in London before he returns home. I was interested in meeting him to see if there was any chemistry, but I killed that horse before it left the startingpoint.



So suddenly, no reason to anticipate getting emails. Besides, you lot never bloody write.



I'm thinking about starting eFriendships with the concerned individuals who thinks I need viagra and penile implants. They write me often.

One of the reasons I love living here. Recent title for a channel 4 documentary on Afghanistan: "Here's one we invaded earlier."



Didn't see it, but am aware of growing talk about the US's failure to create a viable infrastructure in Afghanistan, or indeed to catch Osama bin Laden. Of course, Bush would have you believe that's no longer important, although recent terrorist activity might provide differently.



Blair is returning today from the G8 conference to a wave of anger from Mps who feel we were "duped" into the war by doctored or completely fictitious "evidence" that Iraq had WMD and intentions to use them. There is talk about the possible fallout if WMD aren't found in Iraq including calls for the US and UK to pay reparations to families Iraqis killed during the possibly illegal "war." It's really a simple question, Mssrs. Blair and Bush. Where are they? We were forced into a war because you had proof that Iraq had WMD and were a viable threat to US and UK security. If they didn't, or if they were destroyed prior to March, then the US and UK are, indeed, guilty of highly questionable invasion -- and the maniacal grip they maintain on Iraqi oil is doing little to quell the world's growing clamour for truthful answers. Blair may yet be victim to political backlash if he can't satisfy parliament that the evidence exists.

Celeb sighting Gordon Ramsay, enfant terrible of celebrity chefs, jogging through South Ken. Infamous for berating an amateur chef on a BBC show but lunch at Gordon Ramsay at Claridge's was the best meal I've ever had.

Crap. I've got a lot of it. And it was schlepped during our mini heatwave from one large two bedroom flat to one smaller one bedroom flat. So it's all in South Kensington littered cross the floor and counter tops and i'm not sure where any of it is going to go. Luckily the heatwave is abated and I'm staying home this afternoon to await a delivery and put stuff away.



The flat's small, doesn't have great storage space. Doesn't yet have hot water. Does have a lot of street noice. And an occassional whiff of grilled meat from the kebab shop across the street, but you know, I think I like it.

I do not want what I can have. I recently was in a bar. Having a drink after work. Kind of, but not really cruising the crowd. I got approached by a man in his mid-40s. Wasted drunk. Tried to lose him. Told me his life story. 73-year old hospitalised partner who he had met when he was a rentboy in 70s London. Open relationship. Looking to play around.



I made a few dismissive comments hoping that would end it. Did my best, "god, I'm bored of you" look and moved toward the bar.



But he intercepted. Tried to flatter me. Grilled me about what I did, and when I said, vaguely, "marketing" threw back his head and laughed an extravagantly loud, gargled laugh.



I could count his cavities.



I wondered momentarily if he was trying to unhinge his jaw to swallow me whole in some snake-like way.



He then went to grab my arm but missed, tripped, and fell whilst pouring his drink all over himself. His bald head shined with gin and he was soaked, but he stood up and resumed the conversation.



I left.

No one! Excellent. Now that I know I'm talking to myself in cyberspace things can get juicy. Well, as juicy and things in a bone dry life can get.



Just read that that penultimate fag rag Wallpaper is relaunching in June. New editor, new approach, new attempt to widen a niche audience and regain the patina in cool in a relatively anti-cool world. Nonsense about it trying to be more American. The joyful relaunch of a slow death? We'll see.



I remember hearing Tyler Brulee speak once at a design conference. He told a fantastic story about being shot when he was a war correspondent. He recuperated in a swanky Chelsea garden drinking umbrella drinks and questioning his life's purpose. The result? A magazine for overpampered shallow trendy jetsetting homosexuals (and the girls who want to be them) called Wallpaper, because he was surrounded by it. I remember chortling in shock that this was his revelation. So one can't be surprised at the resulting periodical. What's he doing now that he's left Wallpaper? Branding. God help us.

Who's there? Is anyone actually reading this? If you are, drop me an email at brianj777@mac.com.



Thoughts I'm having a charming email exchange with a charming man, but have lately started to feel that it's very one-sided. And let's face it, I love talking about myself. It's therapeutic. He encourages me to be less self-conscious, but surely not everyone is interested in what's going in my head all the time. So, I'll broaden the discussion.



Several Texan Democrats fled to Oklahoma to avoid a quorum about questionable congressional district redrawing plans brought about by the Republicans. I love this story, although I'm sure there are hundreds of reasons to flee Texas.



I found out that oxtail is, indeed, the tail of any beef animal. But it's never tiger, despite what the Restaurant Georges thinks.



Tony Blair has dodged calls to let Britain vote on a referendum about the broadening of the EU's constitution and Britain adopting the Euro. 80-something % of the country thinks there should be a referendum. And I hate to agree with the bland little man who leads the Tories, but I agree that Blair's adopted a presidential tone that's hindering, not helping government. Our treasury has said the EU hasn't met the five benchmarks we agreed to before joining the Euro and the country doesn't seem to want to do it. 9th June appears to be the date, but how the public will be considered is uncertain.



London's bidding to host the Olympics. Fuck me, the city's already packed with people.



I'm flummoxed that the US has gone after Saudi Arabia for not doing more to prevent the weekend's bombings. Should Saudi Arabia have done more? Likely. Should the US piss off one of it's only allies and sources of intelligence in the Middle East? Don't seem very smart to me.