Friday, December 25, 2009

This Journey has only just begun!

This year has almost come and gone, and what a year it was! Sitting in the afterglow and still digesting all excesses of the festivities I can’t help but reflect on the last 12 months. This has been a year saturated with an abundance of experience, some more pleasant than others. I have learned and grown a great deal and was lucky enough to share it with all of you. This journey has only just begun and on our path to this present reminiscence we laughed, we cried, got angry, threw tantrums and together we made a difference. During January I started this blog being blissfully unaware of the impact a simple little website can have. Dipping My Toes into Fire would become prophetic words of what was to come...

The pursuit of perfection and beauty always intrigued me and I never realized people would find the grooming habits of gay men interesting, and the term Crack & Sack not only confused a few but also left me wondering how many people actually had the misfortune of waxing their private parts and was cursing my name while in excruciating pain! Also not being partial to ageing gracefully I ventured into the world of non-invasive cosmetic procedures now being a proud member of the Botox club, and for all those wondering, yes... I still have movement in my face… at least the muscles from my eyebrows down... This year I again went through being Thick and Thin, losing some weight and looking fabulous to now having again gained a few pounds, and unlike Oprah flabby additions to my midsection did absolutely nothing for my ratings. As the recession hit the world we also mourned the Death of the Metro-Sexual Man, an illusive creature which to my great disappointment I learned heterosexual women absolutely hated.

Many friends this year found themselves single having had to endure terrible breakups notably grouping Condoms, Pepper Spray and True Love into an unlikely combination to surviving modern dating. I found the Queer Mating Rituals of Heterosexuals fascinating, and was forced to ponder on issues like Cyber Fidelity and Why Should Only Straight People have to Suffer Marriage. And then there were the SEX… Dildos, Handcuffs, Leather and Porn still seems taboo, as many of us still find it dreadfully uncomfortable to not only talk about sex but be open and honest about our own sexual needs and desires. Some people, on the other hand, took things too far with Sex Tape Scandals, but in all the need for Sex Education and being comfortable with our own sexuality became quite evident. This was just the simple issues but when it came to Intersexuality and Hermaphrodites it became quite controversial and complex.

Ageism in the gay community landed me in some hot water as no self-respecting queer would like to be referred to as a King or Queen of Yesterday and Fabulous Fairies and Ghastly Goblins clearly made their voices heard. I learned that the gay community is diverse and even wondered whether Gay Men are from Venus and Lesbians from Mars? I also discovered some Homophobic Homos in our midst and discovered that Coming Out may just be the route of all their self-loathing. For some the coming out process seemed so daunting that one friend even suggested he’d Rather be Black than Gay. In my own coming out process I also had to deal with some ignorance and being asked stupid questions like Why Don’t you Sleep with Lesbians?
Not being quite the social butterfly but rather a Stepford Fag, I did attend some great events this year. I had 3 Tons of Fun watching my fabulously talented hairstylists win a prestigious competition. I attended Fashion week and gazed upon some Perfect Creatures being a VIP guest and just as I started to feel Life’s a Drag I was amazed with the talent of our local Drag Queens. But unfortunately work pretty much dominated my year with Spy Bosses, Drug Trafficking and Murder seeing me make the 8 o’clock news and several front pages of news papers. With all of this happening I was also Rear Ended and the chain of events that followed had me scream What the F! No Wonder I am a Bitch!

Not being immune to scary diseases I became a statistic this year as I too contracted The Swine Flu - a nasty flu with a nasty name. It Will Never Happen to Me is something we feel comfort in thinking. This year a colleague of mine was diagnosed with cancer and is fighting the battle of her life; her diagnoses caught her off guard and turned her world upside down. Being a strong willed woman, she’s putting up a brave fight. Another friend who’s HIV+ learned that he needs to start with ARV treatment in the New Year – a prospect he finds daunting, but at least HIV no longer is a death sentence nor is it The Gift of Death.

Being a peace loving person, you could imagine my shock when I started getting hate mail. It seems some Christians think I am The Abomination of Humanity, fearing The Sodomites Wants to Recruit You and even proclaiming God Hates Fags. Clearly I struck a nerve and they like reminding me of this at least 2 to 6 times a week in their “love” letters. Intolerance and hate was further prevalent when the Gay Witch Hunt started in Uganda, with the lives of countless homosexuals being at risk as a Genocide may be looming. The Fag Hating Illuminati seems hell bent on eradicating homosexuality in Africa, and I will be damned if that happens. The Gay Plague didn’t kill us and neither will ignorance!

With all the ups and down this year I had the one person that stood by my side and have been my pillar of strength – my husband. Together we dispelled The Myth of the Super Gay Couple; we found the Needle in the Gaystack and will be moving into our new home in January 2010. Husband had to put up with a hell of allot of my tantrums, bitching, my hectic work schedule and activism. For all of this he deserves a medal for husband of the year!
2009 has been a busy year, a difficult year and a fulfilling year. Thank you for sharing this year with me, and I loved sharing it with you.

My wish to you for 2010: Make it your intention to pursue only what is honorable, what is good, and what is true… Don’t forget to walk gently, breathe peacefully, laugh hysterically, love truly, give cheerfully and accept gratefully.

Now I am off to a week of peace and quiet and will be seeing in the New Year on an Island off the mainland of Madagascar. So for at least a week, in the famous words of Greta Garbo “uh.. uh.. I want to be alone….”

Till next time, see you in 2010. Happy New Year!

Feel so different by Sinead O'Connor

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Fag Hating Illuminati

Waking up this morning, on my first day of my holiday, I felt that everything was right with the world. No meetings, no frantic phone calls just some rest and relaxation. Still relishing in this tranquil thought, I stumbled out of bed and went about my normal morning routine. Then I checked my e-mail. Another country is about to criminalize homosexuality, and it is Rwanda of all places. After surviving a genocide Rwanda now wants to follow the example of Uganda. I was shocked! What is happening in Africa? Has the world gone mad?
Today the Rwandan government will be voting to introduce Article 217 into their penal code. This article states that:

Any person who practices, encourages or sensitizes people of the same sex, to sexual relation or any sexual practice, shall be liable for a term of imprisonment ranging from five (5) to ten (10) years and fine ranging from Two Hundred thousand Rwanda Francs (200.000 RwF) to one million (1,000,000)Rwanda francs”.

I have to admit I am not an expert on African politics but when I did a little research on Uganda and now Rwanda regarding the Genocide Bill and Article 217, one person’s name seems to keep popping up – Rick Warren. Warren is a “successful” pastor who apparently has close ties to a not-so secret, secret society known as “The Family” or "The Fellowship". "The Family" is a Christian fundamentalist group, it is large and powerful, with tentacles that reach every corner of the world with its members including several high-ranking political figures in the United States. Their goal in Africa – Eradicate homosexuality! The means of doing so – Provide funding to economically challenged governments and pressure them to enforce stricter laws against homosexuality. Their real motive for doing this – UNKNOW…

This sounds like one of those conspiracy theories from a blockbuster Hollywood movie. Naturally, I also dismissed this as farfetched as I did not wanted to stir up images of boogey men or fag hating Illuminati types. However, the reality remains. Two African countries now want stricter laws criminalizing homosexuality, both laws violently infringes on the human rights of gay people and one ominous group seems to be behind this – “The Family”. It would appear gay people around the world now have a new enemy. A group of people who wants us eradicated. A Fag Hating Illuminati hell bent on destroying us.
Unfortunately for this group, they vastly underestimate us queer folk. We are not like the dinosaurs and it will take more than an asteroid or a few powerful, misguided bureaucrats to force us into extinction. Our “depraved lifestyle” and having to hide who and what we really are has made us quite a tenacious bunch of abominations. We are organized, focused and our tentacles also reach well beyond what they expect. What makes us even more dangerous is the fact that we can hide in plain sight, and when they least expect it we will mount them from behind, penetrate their well oiled machinery of hateful propaganda and thrust our collective dissident beliefs down their throats. Our stamina will outlast theirs.

When I read the actual bills and articles these ignoramuses want to introduce to law, I can but only roll my eyes. In the Genocide Bill the poor old dildo, vibrator and strap-on have all been collectively described as a “sexual contraption” reducing it to sounding like some kind of medieval instrument. Gay sex is described as “unlawful carnal knowledge”. So fags according to them no more unlawful carnal knowledge for us especially not with sexual contraptions, rather stick to chaste stupidity! Never has any literature ever encapsulate the eroticism of gay sex quite as eloquently as that of the Fag Hating Illuminati….
Being a community bound by our own “brotherhood” our society is not a secret one. We often profess we are queer and we are here and nothing will stop this or silence us. Have they never seen a Drama Queen throw a tantrum; a Drag Queen getting into a bitch fight at a pageant or a Dyke blowing her lid after catching her girlfriend kissing someone else? Have they never seen the wrath a homosexual can unleash? The combined anger of the queer world will make the atom bomb seem pale in comparison. We do not fight our wars with guns, the weapons we use is far less complex but much more effective and of greater devastation. We have our voices, passion, compassion, the truth and a flare for the dramatics. No matter where we are we will speak out, we will expose the injustice inflicted on our queer family; we will oppose homophobia and resist any pressure to the turn a blind eye. We will continue having carnal knowledge and use whatever damn contraptions we want.
Fag Hating Illuminati, as you are watching us, so too are we keeping a queer eye on you. You are busy in Africa. Uganda and now Rwanda is at risk and we do not know where you will spread your cancer next. Just remember one thing, we will not go quietly, we will not go peacefully and we will not crawl back into the crevices of the closets in which you imprisoned us. It’s not over until the fat Drag Queen’s song is finished or the sexual contraption’s batteries runs out!

'The Family' and Anti-Homosexuality Bill in Uganda

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Story of a Young Ugandan Gay Couple

(Originally published on Daily Monitor article by Rodney Muhumuza )

A proposed anti-gay law could make Uganda perhaps the most dangerous place for homosexuals and drive the gays of Uganda further underground. In a rare interview, the first of its kind with a newspaper journalist, a lesbian told Saturday Monitor’s Rodney Muhumuza why she is very scared.

The Sunday before last, Val Kalende listened quietly as her pastor’s sermon digressed into a soft tirade against homosexuals. “We may even have one in our midst,” the cleric told a congregation of about 50 born-again Christians. If Ms Kalende did not know her pastor to be an honourable man, a father figure, his sudden anti-gay remarks would have left her shifting uncomfortably in her chair, wondering if those dreaded words were meant for her. In the end, the woman who also serves as a minister, regularly taking her place on the worship team at her church of eight months, chose to let it go. It would not be her last time there. Ms Kalende’s chosen place of worship is a small church somewhere in Zana, in Wakiso, not too far from her Namasuba house, past a stage for motorcyclists who have made it a habit to ask if she is a man or a woman.

Ms Kalende’s standard attire - she is comfortable in a pair of denim jeans and does not wear skirts at all -turned her into a favourite target for the boda-boda cyclists, once upsetting her so deeply that she had to report her tormentors to the authorities.

On the afternoon I met Ms Kalende, 27, she had just returned from attending service. The television in her living room was tuned to a station named Top, a Christian broadcaster, and a pastor was wedding heterosexual couples as elated witnesses chanted loudly in the background. As she readied herself for a new conversation, Ms Kalende grabbed the remote control to reduce the volume, creating artificial silence that would be broken by the occasional sound of cutlery dropped in a kitchen sink.

A teenage girl, a relative of Ms Kalende, was doing the dishes as some children lazed around the house. Then Ms Kalende headed for the door, leading the way to her veranda, away from the children she considered too young to know she was gay, for the sake of children she wanted to protect. In a narration of the kinds of people she was not too comfortable around, Ms Kalende’s account would include inquisitive children, illiterate motorcyclists, gossipy parishioners, bigoted employers and, most recently, a lawmaker named David Bahati. “My first reaction was, ‘Who is Bahati?’ He is the last person I knew,” Ms Kalende said, launching into a decidedly personal explanation for why, “for the first time, I am very scared”.

In October, Ndorwa West MP Bahati brought an anti-gay law to the House, proposing in his document a new felony called “aggravated homosexuality”, committed when the offender has sex with a person who is disabled or underage, or when there is HIV transmission. The crime should attract the death penalty, he proposed, while consenting homosexuals should be imprisoned for life. The proposed law, which has the tacit approval of President Museveni, would also penalise a third party for failing to report homosexual activity, as well as criminalise the actions of a reporter who, for example, interviews a gay couple.

Although Mr Bahati said he was not in a hate campaign, he could not explain the lack of facts to back his case - the proposed law seeks to improve on the penalties prescribed in the Penal Code, which already criminalises homosexuality -or provide evidence to back claims that European gays were recruiting in Uganda.In a country where homosexuality is still taboo, the bill had excited the homophobic sentiments of many Ugandans, and it also looked set to shrug off human rights concerns.

As the Canadian government called the law “vile and hateful”, and as the Swedish government threatened to cut aid over a law a minister described as “appalling”, the authorities in Kampala were saying they would push for the introduction of legislation that would make Uganda one of the most dangerous places for gay people.

Ms Kalende has been openly gay since 2002, several years before she became a rights activist with the group Freedom and Roam-Uganda, six years before she met the woman she calls the love of her life.

WORRIED: Ms Kalende faces an uncertain future after the tabling of an anti-gay law in Parliament. In October 2009, around the time Mr Bahati was preparing his anti-homosexuality law, Ms Kalende’s partner, a 25-year-old woman she did not wish to name, left for the United States, where she is now a student and the regular sender of hopeful messages to a partner living thousands of miles away. The couple met in November 2008, one openly gay and the other closeted, but soon found the connection that inspired them to exchange rings in a recent private ceremony. They enjoyed each other’s company, even going for an HIV test together.

Ms Kalende, smiling wryly, recalled being asked by a counsellor if her partner had been using a condom.“In my mind, I was like, ‘Dude?’ I felt useless. He was giving me the wrong kind of counselling. I wanted to tell him: 'The lady you see there is my girlfriend,'" she said. These days, a typical telephone conversation between the two lovers, which happens almost daily, ends with Ms Kalende saying something like this: “I love you.” Before breaking into tears, the person on the other side answers back: “I love you, baby.” Feeling strong. In the intimate scheme of things, Ms Kalende plays the stronger partner, encouraging her lover, whom she affectionately calls Mimi, to be brave and allaying her concerns about safety in Uganda. “When she starts to cry, I don’t cry,” Ms Kalende said. “I want to be stronger than she is. But I feel bad, of course. She is really scared about what’s going on at home.” The couple met through a mutual friend, with Ms Kalende as the more enthusiastic partner, until their relationship grew strong enough for them to start sharing a house. “She is a very beautiful woman,” Ms Kalende said. “It’s about her heart, her beauty, and the fact that we share the same faith.”

Ms Kalende keeps in her wallet a picture from October 2009, taken days before her partner left Uganda. They are looking straight in the camera, no smiles, with Ms Kalende’s partner extending an arm over her lover to create the only sign of intimacy between them. It is a beautiful, if cheerless, photograph, yet one that captures the character of a relationship that is steeped in trust, respect and commitment. “Before I met her, she was already in the process of leaving,” Ms Kalende said. “I couldn’t stop her, and I think that was the best for her. She wasn’t my first partner, but I know that she is the last…I was her first serious partner.”

In press conferences hastily called to condemn the gays of Uganda, Ethics Minister Nsaba Buturo has been revving up the rhetoric, telling reporters that homosexuals can “forget about human rights”. In a recent press briefing, Dr Buturo asked homosexuals to “leave us alone”. Offensive statement. It is the kind of statement that offends Ms Kalende, who professes love for Uganda but retains a keen understanding of her society. “I love my country, and that means a lot to me,” she said. “But this bill is not about homosexuality. It affects everyone; my pastor, my friends. It’s not about us gays…Homosexuality is not about sodomising young boys. What about relationships among people who are not hurting anyone?” It was Ms Kalende’s way of saying that homosexuals have people in their lives who treasure them, men and women who may not let their silent aversion to gays determine the course of their friendships. But it is difficult to predict how loved ones would react to a revelation that a daughter or sister is gay, Ms Kalende said. “My partner is not like me,” Ms Kalende, the only child of her father and mother, offered. “She’s not yet brave enough to be open, because she doesn’t want her family to know. I can’t approach my mother-in-law and tell her I am in love with her daughter. It would give her a heart attack.

When Ms Kalende agreed to talk to a journalist about how the proposed law made her feel, she first sought the consent of her partner. She said yes, but with the caveat that “you don’t put me out there”. Before she left Uganda, Ms Kalende’s partner had sought to convince her lover to go slow with her activism, to keep a low profile, to just hang in there. It was the kind of advice Ms Kalende was always reluctant to accept.

Midway through her interview with Saturday Monitor, Ms Kalende seemed to remember her lover’s words, asking: “How is this [interview] going to help me?” Then, moments later, she found her rhythm, saying firmly that “she was doing it for the whole LGBT [lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender] community”. Necessary law? Mr Bahati’s proposed law, the human rights lawyer Ladislaus Rwakafuuzi has noted, is “not needed” in Uganda.

Yet few people doubt the bill would be passed without much opposition. Already, Speaker Edward Sekandi has spoken out to say Uganda should do whatever is necessary “to stop” homosexual relationships in Uganda. If passed in its current shape, the law would drive Ugandan homosexuals - there are no reliable figures on their numbers, and most gays appear in public wearing masks - further underground.

In one of those moments when Ms Kalende would stop to give a thoughtful response, she came across as resigned to a destiny she had no way of foretelling. “We’ve never been through this,” she said, preparing to ask a question for which she would get no answer.
Even with the existing law, things have never been this serious. I don’t know if things will ever be normal for us. Tell me, what will happen to us?

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Hating Christmas

It’s that time of year. Bells, shiny balls, frosted windows, mistletoe, fat jolly bearded men and Christmas trees are taking over our shopping malls, office buildings and family homes. Seasonal jingles and music are resonating in every shop, elevator and accompanies every second television advertisement. If you don’t like it – tough eggnog! We will be stuck surrounded with festive seasonal paraphernalia well into January 2010. After bitching to my husband about feeling harassed by Christmas he annoyingly responded by saying “Well you never did liked Christmas anyway!”. His response made me sound like Ebenezer Scrooge from the Charles Dickens novel “A Christmas Carol”. It’s not that I don’t like Christmas and needs an urgent visit from the three Ghosts of Christmas, I just find some parts of it intolerably irritating.

The first time I was disillusioned by Christmas was at age 5. You see I may have been a small child but I wasn’t stupid. I figured out that Santa Clause did not really exist by means of logical deduction. For him to be real there could only be one of him, yet I saw many of him in malls. Secondly, he was fat so how the hell could he fit down a chimney and manage to emerge clean as a whistle and not make a mess. Thirdly, his elves was suppose to make my gifts and Santa was suppose to deliver them on Christmas day, yet I saw what I wanted in the toy shops and later discovered my presents, a week in advance, hidden away in my parents’ closet.

Armed with these three primary facts I confronted my mother. She fervently defended his existence up to the point when she realized I was not going to budge. She finally asked me "If Santa really didn’t exist would it spoil your Christmas?" to which I responded "Only if that meant I was not going to be getting my presents". A brief further discussion settled the matter and no family member had to impersonate Santa Clause again after this.

I find the fact frightening that Christmas advertisements and decorations start appearing as early as mid November with the full onslaught the beginning of December. It’s like a countdown to one massive shopping spree that is being forced upon me. Naturally I want to spoil my loved ones with something special; I just don’t like the pressure! Being an enormous procrastinator when it comes to Christmas shopping I always find myself in the unfortunate circumstance of having to do my shopping a couple of days before Christmas.

Reaching the mall you never find parking in under an hour and once you have, going into any mall, during this time, is like being dropped in the Amazon River during a piranha feeding frenzy. Not being fond of big crowds and being well aware that I am not the only stressed out shopper, I have noticed that this brings out the worst in people. I once saw two women actually fighting over the last Tickle-Me-Elmo toy which was all the rage for kids that year, it was a vicious fight and at the end of the day neither got the toy and security escorted them out of the shop. I too have done the same. I am not proud of it, but it’s like the demon spirit of Christmas shopping overwhelms you and you just can’t help yourself. The stress of shopping, the background music, the decorations and angst all combines to turn normal people into raging idiots with credit cards.

Christmas is all about the joy of giving, or so they say... Yes, I do enjoy giving presents and seeing the joy of the recipients. However, getting to that point is the annoying bit - I cannot gift wrap anything! In the past I have made some brave attempts but always failed as the gifts usually ended up looking as if they were in a car wreck. If the item has an odd shape never attempt gift wrapping it yourself, one such endeavor took two hours of my life which I will never get back and I can’t recall ever cursing any inanimate object that much in my life before or after that day.

Luckily I am married to a brilliantly creative man who can gift wrap a garden fork and make it look spectacular. The planning he puts into the theme, color scheme and gift wrapping accessories is just insane, and all the presents we give are uniquely branded after he’s done with them and puts all the other gifts to shame no matter what their content.

Food is the one thing I truly love about Christmas and I enjoy preparing it. This is the one thing I can honestly say I am good at during the festive season. Give me a budget, a well equipped kitchen and hungry mouths and I am quite content. Unfortunately this is also the one territory off which I am fiercely competitive and brings out the Martha Steward Bitch in me.

When the family gathers and each member have to bring a different dish, mine absolutely MUST be the best! So screw desert, screw starters and side dishes I will do the main course and it will be bloody magnificent!! Many members of my family have tried to upstage my dishes in the past and all have failed miserably, but on the upside this rivalry always makes for a fabulous feast.

Christmas is a time of joy, giving and spending time with one’s family. Admittedly there are aspects leading up to the actual day that I find tedious and irritating. I don’t like Santa Clause even though he’s not real I still think the fat bastard should go on a diet. I don’t like the fact that I have to spend an hour looking for parking at a mall and then have to fight off other shoppers to purchase the presents I’m looking for. I don’t like gift wrapping or having to stand in a queue to have it done professionally, but luckily I have a husband who does that with flair, enthusiasm and for free.

I am no Ebenezer Scrooge hating Christmas as I actually love it, I just don’t like the technicalities and the buildup. But once the day arrives, all annoyances are soon forgotten and festivity fulls the air with joy and peace.

Till next time.

Jackie Beat-Santa's Baby

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Homophobic Homos?

Recently coming across a YouTube video by a young man talking about homophobic gay guys not only had me intrigued but also quite troubled. In this video he spoke about how in the last 2 years (after coming out of the closet) he has come across more homophobic gay guys than straight guys. He further put forth his own analysis of this phenomenon. He just being 22, I must admit although he’s very cute and my natural gay instinct was to stare at his lovely topless body I did pay attention the video’s content. Although I disagree with a few points he made, the fundamental question raised is interesting. Are there really homophobic gay guys out there?

As we all know the gay community is very fickle over just about everything. I have found that it can be difficult to get GLBT people to get off their asses to do something for a cause if it does not include a parade, a party and/or alcohol. We also, at times, appear to have a slight attention span problem and also tend to disagree allot about a multitude of issues. In my opinion, this is normal as we are all individuals, with different priorities and different preferences.

Being part of a community does not imply mindless conformity because if it did, we would be one hell of a boring bunch. Yet, with all our differences we still classify ourselves into categories in the gay community based on our age, appearance, preferences and attitudes. We get the twinks, bears, bear cups, leather daddies, butch, femme, tops, bottoms, straight acting, stephford fags, jocks, drag queens, transvestites, lipstick lesbians and I could go on. I belive categorizing ourselves in this manner is an attempt not only to acknowledge our differences but also to achieve a sense of community. We are after all as diverse as the colors of the rainbow flag that represents us.

So why in a community as varied as ours and with such a plethora of opportunity for inclusion do we still get the odd queer that would state he/she hates gays? Personally I have crossed paths with a few of them and in most cases the experience left me flabbergasted. I mean really… you are gay, in a gay club playing tonsil hockey and in all probability will later play hide the sausage with another man and afterwords will be basking in the satisfaction of off loading your primal desires, yet you don’t like gays? The same goes for carpet munchers who have their cake and eat it and with the tingling taste of sugar still on their tongue declare they hate lesbians. My first reaction would always be a sarcastic frown (when I still could in my pre-Botox phase) and with my head bopping and fingers clicking would say “Girlfriend you are confused!” Do they really hate gays, or is it self-loathing or disillusionment with the homosexual lifestyle?

It’s bad enough to deal with homophobic heterosexuals but when it comes to homophobic homos it’s like the kettle calling the pot black. Being the curious creature I am I could not let this go and engaged some of these controversial homophobic homos. What I found was that in the majority of the cases the statements was based only on aspects of homosexuality and not on its entirety. Some were merely irritated with their perceptions of and experiences with the gay lifestyle that included promiscuity, drug abuse, relationship issues, elitism, ageism, superficiality and ostracism. Some were personally hurt by the gay community either through repetitive failed relationships, the choice of bad friends and/or having fallen victim to discrimination due to their specific category in the gay community and not receiving the support they craved from the community itself. It was not that they hated gay people they hated what had happened to them and they were not likely to go burn the gay flag at some rodeo or sport event or protest at gay clubs and bars.

On the other spectrum there were those gay homophobes that truly meant what they said. Whether their strong aversion stems from self-loathing, denial, or like a friend pointed out, their own feelings of guilt that they are transferring to a whole community is not always crystal clear. I guess if you were raised in a community where homosexuality is frowned upon (to put it mildly) and fear and denial of who and what you really are combines, the outwardly expression of their own insecurity and personal conflict will materialize in homophobia. They are the ones most likely to join these weird and sinister Christian groups that convert homosexuals with prayer, Bible study and group meetings. It’s like AA for gays, however it led me wonder whether it is not only making things worse for them to fight a part of themselves which they can’t really fix? In this light shouldn’t their homophobia be seen as a cry for help?

It’s sad but true there really are homophobic homos out there. Some gay people make reckless and derogatory statements about our community in the heat of the moment but once cooled down their rainbows shine bright once again. Unfortunately we also have those brothers and sisters who are in the midst of a terrible storm and can, for the moment, not see past the dark clouds, pouring rain and lightning. We as a GLBT community should have patience with them and help them weather the storm so once the sun emerges they too will see their true colors shine bright and be proud.

Till next time.

Homophobic Gay Guys

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Hate Mail

After my recent post "The Abomination of Humanity" that dealt with the hate mail I receive on a regular basis I decided to publish some of these mails on my blog. The normal "burn in hell" and "fuck you faggot" mails I decided to ignore, and rather only publish ones that have an inkling of intelligence. So here is one that was sent to me via Facebook:
Message 1:
"we hate you cos you are fucking poofs...."
Message 2:
"The thing you people seem unable to grasp is the fact that in basic biological instincts mean that any organism is hard wired to reproduce and further the existence of the species.
Any organism that did not wish to reproduce, a gay organism if you will, would not pass on its genes. Therefore it follows that put crudely, gay people have a genetic defect.

In a primitive life form, the gay gene would be gone after a few generations as it would not be passed on, and would only again occur in an organism due to a defect. Now of course we live in a politically correct world so defects are embraced in more developed nations.

You wouldn't kill a disabled child just because they were born with the disability, but that does not change the fact that there is a defect with that child. They are not normal in a genetic sense. As are gays. I do not mean to imply that gay people should be killed or anything, but it is a biological fact that they have a gene defect."

At least this person tried to provide some "scientific" rationalization for his homophobia. It's quite refreshing to receive a "hate mail" without some religious tone to it. According to this genius gay people are defective primitive organisms that will go extinct. And there I thought we were superior organisms, I guess it's back to the lab for a reanalysis.
Till next time.

'Marry Me' performed by Lesbian activist Melange Lavonne and directed by gay filmmaker Fable Jonze

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Horror, Weirdos & Fagalicious Homos

It’s time for Halloween. All the witches, fairies, superheroes and dead icons of the past will come out of the closet and gush into the nightclubs and streets to celebrate this dress up party. Not having attended a Halloween party in a while I am pondering the idea of getting into a costume and joining in this year’s festivities.
As most gay and rather effeminate men know, playing dress up is nothing new to us. Some of us have been doing this ever since we could walk. As a toddler I distinctly remember being quite fascinated with my grandmother’s pink powder box that she had on her dressing table. Every chance I got I would sneak into her room, open the box grab the powder puff and powder my face. Needless to say I would emerge white as a ghost and concerned stares would be exchanged between my parents and grandparents as they would send me to the bathroom to wash my face. I eventually ended up inheriting that powder box, but unfortunately lost it. Granny’s powder was not the only feminine accessories I had used, my mom’s makeup also suffered my curiosity and many a time I ended up looking like a clown that was drunk when he applied his happy face and consequently suffered a stroke and was sent to an insane asylum. Apart from the makeup there also was the trying on of shoes, jewelry and the odd dress. Why I didn’t end up a drag queen is anybody’s question. I showed all the signs, but I guess the fact that I make for a scary woman might be a clue to this enigma.
In the past I have been dressed up for Halloween as a Priest, a Punk, a Bunny, a School Boy, a Prostitute, and a Goth, just to mention but a few. Strangely enough I never actually went the drag queen route however appropriate that could have been as I could have made a good witch. Of all the costumes I have adorned over the years I must admit the Bunny was my favorite. It was the least effort as I only had to buy bunny ears and a fluffy tail. The best part was that the tail attracted a lot of attention and my ass was crabbed numerous times during the course of that evening and it enjoyed this attention, more than my husband did. My least favorite costume was that of the priest as I kept on tripping on the damn robe and there is no way of sexing up such a dreadfully boring and conservative outfit.
So come Halloween it’s a free-for-all to dress up in whatever takes your fancy. If you are a closeted drag queen you have the options of dressing up as Cher, Vintage Madonna, The Queen or the Wicket Witch of the West. For those secretly into S&M an assortment of leather accessories are at your disposal; however certain items I strongly recommend against renting because you may not want to know where and on whom it has been - no one wants a after Halloween party favor of a case of the crabs! For all of those into the Superhero franchise I always find it quite cute when a couple ventures out to save the queers from the “evils” of the world dressed up as Batman & Robin or Captain America & Falcon. For those single folk not wanting to go out alone, do not despair you too can venture out with your fag hag dressed up as Bonny & Clyde or Barbie & Ken (you can decide who will be which). There is an overabundance of choices when it comes to costumes and themes one can choose from.

So what does your choice of costume say about you? The choice is quite a personal one, I would think, as Halloween is the one time of the year you can dress up as anything or anyone you like. Your secret fantasies can be realized, for instance if you always had a crush on Superman, who knows you may just end up in bed with him that night. If you always admired our health caregivers there’s the sexy nurse outfit (always popular amongst our drag queens) or the little French maid if you are really into kinky house work. For all our lesbians I haven’t forgotten about you. For the really butch lesbian how about trying on a dress for once? Who knows you might even like it? If a dress is not an option I have always found that lesbians look quite good in law enforcement uniforms, so they can do the poppers and safe sex patrol and ensure all horny queers behave responsibly.

Halloween is a fun time of year, with a variety of oddities wondering our streets, frequenting our bars and clubs and a bunch of hyperactive children high on sugar knocking away at our doors wanting their next fix. Whether you decide to dress up and go out, or stay at home watching a few horror movies I trust that all will have a fabulous time during this day of Horror, Weirdos and Fagalicious Homos.

Till next time.

Super Heroes look gay

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

WHAT THE F..! No wonder I am a bitch.

They say bad things happen in threes. Well, I am starting to believe I am not the exception to the rule but rather I am setting a new standard for it. In one day my week has been ruined, communications failed and I am for all practical reasons stranded. Being sleep deprived which admittedly causes me to be more bitchy and short tempered than usual, a culmination of events almost pushed me over the edge and turned me into quite the bitch. Let me explain…

About a month ago I was in a small accident resulting in minor damage to my BMW. Luckily having good insurance it was an inconvenience but not the end of the world. My car went in for repairs and lo-and-behold just as they were almost done they discovered that one of my shock absorbers was also damaged. Naturally we assumed it was due to the accident. The insurance company sent out one of their people who concluded it wasn’t. I complained, they sent out another person who came to the same conclusion as his predecessor. It was ruled the shock’s damage wasn’t accident related and they could not find any evidence of the damaged being caused by a pothole or the weal being hit by a curb. Luckily the car was just 16 months old and surely the shock absorber was still covered under the warranty and/or motor-plan so BMW would repair it under these conditions, right? Yesterday my car was sent to one of their workshops, it was examined and the technicians concluded that the damage would not be covered by BMW’s warranty or motor-plan.
I was informed of BMW’s decision late yesterday afternoon; I arrived home wanting to send them a further enquiry via e-mail. I switch on my computer and it didn’t want to work. A few phone calls later my computer was arranged to be taken in for an assessment and repairs. Frustrated I went to bed hoping that a new day would bring new solutions.

Waking up this morning preparing to go to work I had my whole day planned and was optimistic that all would be resolved. That was a mistake! Firstly, my day didn’t go as planned. We were supposed to continue with the cross examination of the state witness but this was preempted by the defense bringing a motion for the judge in the case to recuse himself. This was a shock! The implications being that we will loose a whole week and consequently prolong this tedious trial and if the motion is successful we would have to start the whole trial from scratch. This set the mood for the rest of the day.

The second blow came when I was informed that my computer had a virus and it was potentially lethal to all the data stored on it. The diagnoses were later confirmed and the probability of loosing all my data was estimated at 90%. Now I was left facing potentially having to start from scratch with a complicated trial, having a computer infected with a virus that could cause me to loose 90% of data (both personal and some work related) and I had no mode of transport.
Not being able to do much about the trial motion or my computer at that stage I focused on the only problem I could actually try to resolve – my car. Having already called BMW’s customer care line that yielded no results I decided to escalate my problem to BMW South Africa. Eventually getting hold of someone the issue was painstakingly explained and it was promised I would be provided with a suitable solution within an hour.

Two hours later not having heard anything I phoned back. I was informed that BMW would have to send out their regional manager to inspect my car and he would make a final recommendation. Finally, I thought, I was gaining some ground until he muttered the second part of his sentence. The regional manager would only be available next month. Almost hyperventilating at this point I asked the guy in the most restrained manner I could what other alternatives I had as waiting another month clearly is not an option. To my utter surprise and disgust he told me I could fetch my car from the panel beaters and use it until the regional manager was available. Thinking I heard him wrong I repeated “So you want me to fetch my car and drive around with it while it clearly has a mechanical fault?” He answered in the affirmative. Shocked I asked to speak to his manager, he answered that he was the manager, asked to speak to his immediate superior and was told she was in a meeting in Cape Town. Completely at a loss for words a short uncomfortable silence followed ending with me putting down the phone in his ear.

As I was typing my formal complaint about BMW this afternoon on my very slow and old computer (the computer that was replaced with the one currently infected with a virus) I receive a “courtesy” call from BMW’s customer care wanting to know whether I was satisfied with the service my car received at the branch it was taken and whether all repairs were done to my satisfaction. The first thing going through my mind was “What the fuck?!” As I was not responding due to disbelief she asked whether I was still on the line and I responded by saying “NO!” It slipped out and confused her. She asked me “No your not on the line or no your are not completely satisfied?” The stupidity of that question set my off on a 20 minute rant and by the end I had her repeat everything that I had said to make sure she had noted it correctly which took her a further 15 minutes. Now both our days were ruined.

So yes I had a shitty day. The court case has been frustrated, my brand new computer has a virus and my BMW is still broken. There are two more days left of this week. If I am not going survive it I am taking everybody around me with me to the loony bin.

Till next time.

Kathy Griffin - Everybody Can Suck It

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Gay Witch Hunts – Uganda Hates Us!

Who would have thought that in this day and age real life witch hunts could still occur? Living in a country where homosexuality is legal and gay marriage has been made possible, I sometimes forget how fortunate I am, and sometimes I can be oblivious to the suffering of others. But every now-and-again I am reminded of how much hate still exists and that discrimination is still rampant. This led me to ask, do we as a world society really care enough about what happens outside the boarders of our own comfort zone to get off our lazy behinds to do something about it?
Sitting at home last night minding my own business desperately trying to clear my overflowing e-mail inbox I came across an e-mail from one of my Ugandan readers. In this e-mail I was told about a new Anti-Homosexuality bill that the Ugandan government proposes to pass in their parliament. My first reaction was to press delete, as I was just too tired to be bothered with the problems of this small African country. I tried to rationalize my initial disinterest by thinking “How is this my problem? I am only one person and even though I have empathy for my reader’s plight, what could I do about it?
Against my selfish first instinct I decided not to delete the e-mail and proceeded to read it. I was horrified to discover that this Anti-Homosexuality bill would not only criminalize homosexuality but also the promotion thereof and whether any Ugandan who’s gay or supports or promotes homosexuality or gay rights, no matter where they are in the world, could be prosecuted. Furthermore, any person in authority who fails to report known violations of the law within 24 hours will also be subject to a significant fine and up to 3 years in prison - even when this means turning in their colleagues, family, or friends! This sickened me! This seemed quite similar to the witch hunts that occurred in the period of 1480 to 1700!
Being the little menacing faggot I am I decided not to let this go - something needed to be done about this pending injustice! Being all worked up and ready to put on my pink boxing cloves the little activist in me was sorely disappointed when I realized this was 9pm on a Friday night and no gay rights groups would pick up their office phones if I called. Even though we queers are well organized we do not have a 24 hour emergency call centre and I was not about to burden my already high phone bill by making international calls. Now being “all dressed up” but nowhere to go, so to speak, I had to think of a Plan B.

Like a lightning bolt it struck me, why not use the power of the internet. Surely I could get the message out by utilizing the numerous social networking pages I labor over and have been nurturing for so many years. Surely some of my friends and contacts will be as enraged by the Ugandan governments’ asinine new proposed bill. So I leaped into cyber action sending out messages to as many people as I could, spreading to word into cyberspace hoping it would fall on interested and willing ears.

Having put the message out there and trusting that the gay community will react in force I waited and waited for any inkling of queer life in the form of a response. Hours passed and nothing, not even a “Please stop harassing me with stupid action alerts while I am trying to have cyber sex on Facebook!” My plan B seemed to have failed and I was frustrated. As I shutdown my computer shortly after 11pm, I could not help but wonder if my Ugandan friend and reader would now unsubscribe from my blog and I felt like I let him down.
Waking up this morning, feeling like I failed I decided to peruse some of my social networking pages. To my delight I had several messages from concerned and angered friends wanting to know how they could help. There was queer life out there in cyberspace and they cared! A few didn’t even know that Uganda existed, some even thinking it was a state in the United States they haven’t heard off, but never the less they cared enough to do something! So we started an e-mail campaign writing to the Ugandan government and our own governments demanding action and having this perilous Anti-Homosexuality bill stopped.

Having had a good response my faith in us as a world society has been restored. We are not all selfish and self-centered creatures who only cares about how gorgeous our boyfriends and girlfriends are, whether our local gay club will up their entrance fees and if we will need to up our Botox treatments from every 6 months to 3. When the rights of our gay brothers and sisters are threatened some of us are willing to get off our lazy behinds and enthusiastically put in an effort to protect them. My only wish is that more people will do the same.

Till next time.


Friday, October 16, 2009

Drugs, Lies & A Videotape

The soap opera trial got even more controversial this week. The star witness seemingly has a failing memory; flip-flopping between versions of events that favors the state and then the defense’s case. Just as things seemed as they could not become more tedious with the protracted cross examination and yet again the drug smuggling conviction came the introduction of an explosively controversial video tape.

This has been one hellishly long week with 16 hour working days of which 6 of those hours being spent with me sitting in court struggling to prevent my butt falling asleep. Arriving at our offices at 7am we fight our way through what we have now fondly named “Little Harare” as the section between the court and our offices have been occupied by Zimbabwean refugees. These refugees spent their days and nights in this section of pavement doing everything there from eating to sleeping. Unfortunately they also decided to pollute this area with their trash and their bodily fluids and excrements. So arriving at work in the morning the moment you step out of the car you are overwhelmed with the smell of urine and rotting food, hence none of us are having breakfast anymore. The permanent occupants of our office building say we’ll get use to the smell but I am not convinced.
Spending so many hours with my colleagues and having had many late nights this week I have come to discover that brilliant minds comes at a cost. You see I have discovered that every member of our team has their own unique little phobias. In our group we have two members that are afraid of heights. Normally this would not pose any problems. However, our temporary offices have been designed around several indoor court yards and all the offices has glass walls facing these court yards and we are on one of the top floors. As we walked into our offices on the first day one members unsuspectingly walked into her assigned office deep in thought and as she turned around was faced with only a piece of glass separating her and a long drop to the ground floor. We heard a hysterical scream and discovered her standing sucked to the opposite office wall frozen in fear. An hour later blinds were installed in all our offices.

Another member of our group suffers from claustrophobia and this prevents him from taking an elevator so every day we spent up to 10 minutes waiting for him when we depart the building or having to go anywhere. Then we have the member with arachnophobia who constantly mistakes any small fuzzy item as a spider which is a problem because the actual court room is not cleaned everyday (if ever) and many little fuzz balls tease his nerves on a daily basis. Being a group with healthy sense of humor we do exploit these phobias from time-to-time for our own sadistic amusement.

Having had a small break on Monday from little Harare, the glass palace and ominous fuzz balls we returned on Tuesday to resume the trial. The star witness would start his 2nd day of cross examination by the defense. Everyone was geared up for a show and that is exactly what they got. The witness being a convicted drug smuggler may have been confused to be philanthropist and cuddly teddybear mafia boss. So I was quite taken aback when people were shocked that he admitted to lying when it suited him and was for his own personal gain. Wouldn’t one expect that from a criminal and a person who is also charged for murder? As he was taking a beating on the stand I could not help but compare him to an overweight house cat being taunted by a little dog. His reactions ranged from being annoyed with his usual frown and lifting of his eye brows, confused, at times lazy, to sporadic attempts at lashing back. The bickering only seized after the judge lost his temper violently slamming down his hand on his pulpit followed by a cringe of pain and a harsh reprimand.

The pièce de résistance this week came with the introduction of the controversial DVD that was made of the witness over a year ago by some spy bosses. This DVD was awaited with great anticipation as a titanic battle was fought over whether it should be admitted or not. At the end of the day it was provisionally admitted and the court was entertained with 57minutes of very controversial assertions by what seemed to be a very aggrieved, animated and very talkative complainant and a laid back spy boss listening to him while smoking his cigarettes and the other spy boss hidden out of sight. There were moments of humor, moments of shock and moments of confusion. All-in-all it was quite a satisfactory experience for all the media attending the proceedings.

The highlight of my week was the fact that the media decided they had enough footage of us and we were not stalked by photographers. We had quite a peaceful stroll through little Harare’s alley of urine and trash without the added stress of having to dodge cameras. As far as I know I was not in the newspapers or on the news, and it was quite a relief. As the testimony of the star witness winds down, the next waves of witnesses are lined up and are sure to attract another frenzy of interest. As for me, I am just going with the ebb-and-flow of events, trying to keep the blood circulation going in my derriere during the trial, doing my work and avoiding stepping in crap.

Till next time.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Spy Bosses, Drug Trafficking, Money Laundering, Murder & Blackmail.

One of the most anticipated and controversial trials in South Africa got underway this week and I just happen to be part of it. The trial involves an alleged international Mafia Boss and convicted Drug Dealer as the star witness and the once most powerful man in law enforcement as the accused. Throw International Espionage, Spy Bosses, Drug Trafficking, Money Laundering, Murder and Blackmail into the mix and you have the perfect recipe for a soap opera. Being involved in the trail I may not divulge any details as pertaining to the actual case but I will take you behind the scenes and share with you the experiences that no one ever get to read or know about. Here is your brief introduction.
Being part of a court case of this magnitude has both its advantages and disadvantages. On the one side I literally have a front row seat and inside scoop to what I can only describe as the best “reality show” but on the other side I have to sacrifice my privacy and normal routine. This past week it felt like my life has been turned upside down, my sleeping patterns grossly interrupted and my public anonymity obliterated. The experience sometimes feels surreal, sometimes scary and sometimes exciting.
My day starts at 4:15am as I am awakened by the irritating sounds of chirping birds. Not being a morning person their sounds mock me as I am forced to awaken from my peaceful sleep. As I prepare for the frenzy that lies ahead, the darkness of night slowly is ushered away by the morning sun. I am picked up by a black Jeep with tinted windows at around 5:30am with four of my colleagues. We are then rushed, with what at times is lethal speed, to the offices next to the High Court. As the Jeep forcefully strings its way through pre-peek-time morning traffic most of us try to catch up on 45 minutes sleep that it takes to reach our destination. Once at the office we have a quick breakfast before our pre-trail meeting then collect our documents and equipment and 30 minutes before the trail start prepare to depart for court.

Preparations for the short walk to court across the road are no easy feat. You see this week we escorted the star witness to court and apart from the media being interested in catching him on film there is also the added complication of his safety. Getting from our temporary offices to the court building is timed and planned with military precision. The security detail (a staff of about 15 people) deploy to their positions 10 minutes prior to departure. As we assemble in the foyer of the office building we wait for the “all clear”. When the go ahead is given we all emerge from the building and a security perimeter surrounds us. As we exit the clicking of cameras start and we struggle our way through the sea of journalist. This has been a frighting experience as once this week a journalist broke the security perimeter causing chaos and the journalist and his camera was injured in the process.

As a result of the media interest in the case I made it onto the news 3 times this week, been on the front page of 4 news papers and appeared in pictures with the star witness in one news paper everyday. This unexpected exposure has had some adverse effects: Firstly some family members and friends called me and was surprised to see me on the news, in public I have gotten some weird stares and twice I have been approached by strangers wanting to know who I was and what my involvement is in the case. Having been told that I look like I am a “mafia type” on the news and newspapers I can only assume this inference is made due to my association with the star witness. Also having been told I look like the witness’ bodyguard, all I could do was laugh.

Once in court we set up our work stations as the press slowly trickles in. Having got to know some of them during the course of this week I must say most of them are very pleasant except one. There is an old lady that is not only abrasive and bombastic but also a major bitch. Having had her banned from our row of seats due to her disturbing nature she through a mammoth tantrum and threaten to sue. Her antics did not yield the results she had hoped and her hateful stares burn our backs everyday; I am sure at night she has constructed a hate shrine with the newspaper pictures of us and burns her black candles while guzzling down her cheep whiskey.

As the defense and the accused enters the court room the atmosphere changes. Everyone looks with keen interest to see how the accused and the star witness will interact. As expected there is no eye contact and neither acknowledges the other’s existence. Only once this week the two made eye contact and it was followed by the witness braking down in tears. Whether that was an Oscar winning performance by the witness no one knows. Presiding over this case is a judge that is firm and does not take well to any dramatics, having a queer sense of humor he does allows the odd lifting of tension with a quip that seldom hits home with the majority of the audience. As testimony starts startling allegations are made, conspiracies claimed, murder and blackmail revealed. The dance between the prosecution and defense is complicated and at times tense; both parties verbally sparring and every now-and-again giving the other a painful blow.

As proceedings wind down and the court adjourns at 3:30pm we again have to make our way through the army of photographers and interested members of the public. I have grown to dread this long walk through hell and chaos. On Wednesday we had a drunken man screaming profanities at us and just as he appeared to want to attack one of us he was neutralized. Once safely back in the building we all have a sigh of relieve having made it back unharmed. The rest of the afternoon is spent preparing for the next day as a postmortem of the day’s events are done. This usually takes a few hours. If we are lucky at about 5:00pm we leave for home and fight through peek hour traffic. Our black Jeep, I am sure, has now become a notorious item on the road as our driver is aggressive and his driving at times frightening. On our journey home we listen to the media’s analysis of the case on the radio and are informed of how they think we are doing.

At around 6:30pm I arrive home exhausted, too tired to think about doing anything else apart from vegetating in front of the television where again I am reminded of my day as images of the day’s events and sometimes image of me flashes across the screen. At 10:30pm I go to bed, only to awaken again at 4:15am to repeat the process.

This case is set to continue for the next 5 weeks. Our star witness will be finishing his testimony hopefully next week, when after the real heavy weights will be introduced: Ex spy bosses, the notorious security expert, the millionaire ex fugitive, the police high brass and maybe even the accused will take the stand. We are in for an exciting time as many more controversial revelations will be made and numerous bombs shells are sure to be dropped. More about this to follow…

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Collagen Palace

They say beauty is only skin deep and true beauty comes from the inside. However, some of us need a little help when it comes to the “skin deep” department. I have just gone for my Botox touch-up at another one of those Collagen Palaces that promise the fountain of youth with a few injections, peels, lasers and surgery. After my little procedure I left wondering why we so eagerly pursue beauty and whether I now too may have crossed the line in joined a group of people that would pay large amounts of money to cling to youth for as long as possible.
My first Botox treatment was earlier this year and as I vividly described on my blog it was a pleasant experience and the benefits aesthetically pleasing. When I was due for my touch up I decided to go to another plastic surgeon that was recommended to me by a friend. All excited I called her office and to my great disappointment the first appointment I could get was only in three months time. Being quite surprised the overly friendly and slightly annoyingly happy sounding receptionist told me they could place me on a “cancelation waiting list”. So two weeks passed before I got a call informing they had a cancellation and I could be helped the very next day.

Arriving at the surgeons offices I was amazed at the magnitude of her operation and facilities. It was a one-stop-shop where you could get anything done apart from major surgery. As one would expect from such an establishment the staff was immaculately dressed and all had a little something done from Botox, collagen to fillers. Walking towards the counter at reception I spotted the Prozac Queen who I had spoken to before. It should be illegal for one person to be so happy and I could not quite determine whether it was just her natural personality or chemically induced, either way if I had to spend a whole day with her I would be forced to staple her lips shut.
After completing the normal paper work I was escorted to the waiting area where I joined a couple of middle aged women all engrossed in the little pamphlets of the different procedures the facility offers. The conversations they had resembles that of people discussing a restaurant menu the only difference was they were discussing chemical peels, body sculpting, facelifts, Botox and vaginal rejuvenations. It seems that apart from the normal nips and tucks of ones flabby bits you can now also get a younger vagina. What will be next a testicular lift and/or penis rejuvenation? Not wanting to listen to how their privates have been tightened I decided to go for a smoke and wait for my turn at the outside coffee shop area.
When my turn came the permanently surprised looking and cheerful receptionist collected me and ushered me into the Dr’s consulting room. My face was examined, the procedure discussed and this time fillers was also introduced into my age delaying chemical recipe. I found the Dr very pleasant and genuinely sincere in her approach. After every possible frown was reproduced, my facial muscles examined and frown line inspected she took out an array of syringes and meticulously placed them on a small table next to the bed. As usual the Botox injections were relatively painless, but when it came to the fillers it was a slightly different story. The best way to describe filler injections is like being stung by a small bee with the slight burning sensation lasting only a few seconds - kind of painful but nothing that would cause a ghastly scream. The other queer thing about fillers is that you can actually feel the thin line if you stroke your finger over the treated area and this really grossed out my hubby.

During the procedure the Dr and I had a nice chat. She told me about the wide range of clients she has and to my surprise she told me of two very well known International Airlines (the names of which I will omit out a fear of being sued) sends their cabin crew to her when they are in South Africa to get Botox and fillers done. Apparently these airlines pays for the procedures and all their staff members that deal with the public are encouraged to undergo these treatments on a regular basis. It’s seems having a flawless and youthful appearance are part of their job description – what a great perk to have. We also discussed the reason people have cosmetic procedures done and from her answer I concluded everybody does it for their own personal reasons, some out of vanity and others out of necessity.
So why do I get Botox you may ask? After some pondering I realized to a certain degree vanity does play a role in my motivation, but mostly it is because if I can delay the effects of aging why not. I do take pride in my appearance. Even though of late I again gained some weight and unlike Oprah my blog readership does not increase with every pound I gain, I still take care of myself and do plan on shaking off the extra pounds and could even inject some of the fat into other parts of my body – Yes, people do that for all of those who just gasped in horror! My decision to get Botox also has a lot to do with the fact that my frown lines made me look unfriendly and every time someone bores me, talks nonsense or when I get annoyed I tend to frown betraying my concerted efforts to hide my true feelings from who ever is sitting across from me in a meeting. Another and final reason for me joining the Botox Band Wagon early is to stay away from the surgeon’s knife for as long as possible as preventative measures, in my opinion, are always the best.

After my touch-up and having had my eyes opened to the other side of cosmetic procedures I honestly don’t think I will go over board and make my visit to the youth fountain a monthly excursion. A visit once in a while (when needed) and in moderation is the healthier option for me. After all I don’t want to end up looking like some of the freaks you see on Dr 90210 or the E channel’s Top 100 Worst Plastic Surgeries. When I look into the mirror in ten years time I still want to be able to recognize the person I see looking back at me.

Till next time.

Robin Williams Plastic Surgery

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