Bobby's Body

Bobby's Body continues...

2006-11-12T18:04:00.000Z

So, it's one final hurrah!

And now, the end is near...

Yesterday I told you that bobbysbody.blogspot.com was going to join the great blog in the sky and unfortunately it is now being laid onto the cold slab in the refrigerator room.

I have had such amazing fun and enjoyment writing this blog and sharing my experiences with you.

But all good things must come to an end.

Ironically it was Blogger that started this blog and it will be Blogger that killed it off too.

In the end the frustrations with Blogger overwrote any fun I had in writing it.

So, as the nurse wanders over with the large syringe and bucket of anaesthetic we prepare to say good-bye to this blog.

However, it's definitely not a good-bye from me.

I told you to watch this space and promised to show you one last hurrah.

So here it is... (click on it to activate). See you there!

bobbysbody.blogspot.com bids goodbye

2006-11-12T00:31:00.000Z

Yep guys, I'm afraid I'm going to bring this blog to an end. bobbysbody.blogspot.com is going to be no more.

I have thought very long and hard about this and have decided that, as far as I can see at the moment, I'm not going to continue with it.

To everyone who's been in touch and/or left a comment on it, thank you. It has made doing it all the more worthwhile. Of course that's not to say I'm not going to be around.

I am still going to read and enjoy what so many of you have write about. It's funny how some of us are so close yet to far - and not just in the geographical sense.

However, hang on before you start removing this blog from your links. Shortly, I hope to be able to tell and perhaps show you one last thing.

Watch. This. Space.

Gym Day 170: Always remember

2006-11-11T16:05:00.000Z

Never forget how horrible and different it could have been.

There is always a lot quoted on this day, from excerpts of Churchill's speeches to Lawrence Binyon's poem "For The Fallen".

For me, it's the text on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior in Westminster Abbey that I find the most poignant.

It is them who we honour today.

Beneath this stone lies the body
Of a British warrior
Unknown by name or rank
Brought from France to lie among
The most illustrious of the land
And buried here on Armistice Day
11 Nov: 1920, in the presence of
His Majesty King George V
His Ministers of State
The Chiefs of his Forces
And a vast concourse of the nation.

Thus are commemorated the many
Multitudes who during the Great
War of 1914-1918 gave the most that
Man can give
Life itself for God
For King and country
For loved ones, home and Empire
For the sacred cause of Justice and the
Freedom of the world.

They buried him among the kings
Because he
Had done good toward God and
Toward
His house.

Gym Day 169: Ritual humiliation

2006-11-10T10:45:00.000Z

And again we subject ourselves to the ritual of a public shaming session as we post the latest picture of what we're looking like.

21 days of the Body-for-LIFE challenge and here's what I look like.

Now to be honest I don't think I'm looking too bad.

But when you look at the numbers, they don't stack up. This is where I think gym and body fat indexes and ratios etc. are just completely ridiculous. Either that or I'm a medical freak.

I weigh 86kgs and am over 6 feet tall. Now if you work out my Body Mass Index (BMI), according to the numbers I am technically obese. You tell me, does that photo really looks like someone who had too many pork pies?

No seriously. According to the chart for "ideal body weight", I am fatter than the average male for my age.

My body fat percentage is 21.2%, which again, according to the numbers means I'm "overfat". Are they having a fucken laugh?

Don't believe me - look for yourself.

Apparently, according to the chart at the gym, my ideal weight should be 79kgs. Seriously, is that a fucking joke?

If I weighed 79kgs and went to the doctor, he would think I was malnourished. He would wheel me into ER and stick a fucking drip with vitamins into my arm. The health service would be sending me godsaken "do you have an eating disorder" literature.

I know what I look like, I know what I want to look like and I know what "health experts" say I should technically look like.

If I were to listen to them I would look like a gangly idiot with a big head and no shoulders.

Utter crap, I say. Utter bollocks and complete rubbish. Do you really mean to tell me that I am obese?

I can't believe this so I'll say it again. According to what I actually look like and the statistics say I should look like, technically there's no difference between this:

or this:
Two words spring readily to mind. They are "fuck off and die you stupid gym people with your health charts and ideal body weight pile of shite."

Gym Day 168: Gay-as-you-go?

2006-11-09T20:43:00.000Z

The nature versus nuture debate always intrigues me. I am pretty sure that I am gay though sometimes I wonder.

Had I been brought up differently I wonder if I would now be married with a missus and a mortgage?

I think - if some things hadn't happened would this blog be "my life in the closet" or even "my happy straight life"?

What would I be like if my mother hadn't been so domineering? Would I have been different if she hadn't played all those ABBA records when I was growing up?

Was my sexuality undefined when I was born but thanks to years of The Sound of Music at Christmas and not being forced to play a contact sport at school, somewhere along the line nuture beat nature?

How gay-like-me are you?

Did you have a domineering mother and a father who was less so?
Did you know the lyrics to Super Trouper when all your friends were playing cowboys and indians?
Was the dressing up box at pre-school more exciting than the jungle gym?
In your school diary did you have cut-out pictures of the female cast of Baywatch or Linda Evanglista?
Thinking about your childhood, which two of the images below do you identify with the most the most?

The answers to my quiz are a little ridiculous but if you're gay perhaps you had answers similar to mine?

If you're gay and you didn't have a domineering mum and were close to your father and played rugby and listening to Metallica instead of Madonna did you ever have a problem with your sexuality or have difficulty coming out of the closet?

Do you think straights ever think "is sex with a woman really supposed to feel like this?" One wonders.

Gym Day 165: Wipe on, wipe off

2006-11-06T21:35:00.000Z

Oh lovelies...

Veronica who should come to clean on a Friday didn't pitch so the house is a tip. Hence I have been on my bloody hands and knees scrubbing, wiping, washing and polishing.

Veronica, darling, come back. All is forgiven. I am bloody exhausted.

Okay listen. I want to ask you a question and it all stems from a conversation I was having with a friend of mine.

I'm going to cut to the chase and I know the adage "different strokes for different folks" but would you like to have passionate sex with the person featured in the picture below?

The friend who I was talking about this with is enormous. He's a little shorter than I am and I know that he weighs more than 120kgs. In short, he's big.

Our chat threw up more questions than it did answers. I wanted to share what I couldn't ask him, with you.

Like - how important is it for the person you're attracted to, to be physically attractive?

Good pecs and a sixpack

That's assuming that overweight men with excessive body hair aren't attractive. Do you find overweight hairy men attractive?

I know it's so easy to say "each to their own", but I really want to know attracts people to it? And not that that's to say it's a bad thing.

The classic Western stereotype of male physical beauty is good pecs and a sixpack - but is that really beautiful?

If you pair everything down, like Desmond Morris does, we are all essentially just animals. Extrapolate that to its logical conclusion and it explains why you don't see fat dogs at Crufts.

Can fat be beaufitul?

Again - taking this back to our genetic make-up, a human being's natural stress response is "fight or flight". It explains the theory of the survival of the fittest.

So is being a chubby or bear or whatever label you want to attach to it, some sort of subconscious rebellion?

Jam donuts

Are the gays really as body conscious as it seems we are?

Could you love someone and see past their love handles? If you were going to gym 5 times a week, could a relationship with a person who sits on the couch all evening eating jam donuts really last?

And again, I'm not saying that overweight men just sit all on the couch all day eating donuts, what I am trying to illustrate and ask is if gay men do see people for who they are and not just for their sixpack.

Sad and superficial

The same way you'd ask; "could a brain surgeon have a lasting relationship with a parking attendant?"

Sure the parking attendant may be fit-as-fuck but what if the brain surgeon wants some sort of er, cerebral conversation.

And again, not that I'm trying to insult parking attendants but I think we can safely assume that a brain surgeon uses and exercises his mind more than someone who sticks tickets on a car does.

Do the gays really only ever really fall in love with themselves? Is that the sad and superficial reality of being homosexual?

Gym Day 164: Inane and fleeting

2006-11-05T21:47:00.000Z

Sitting down to write this and it feels like I'm in Beirut. Or Baghdad, all news considered - Saddam, sentenced, hanging etc.

It's the fifth of November which in Britain means only one thing, fireworks. And fuckloads of them.

Fireworks and the people who let them off really amuse me because I always think, what's the point?

On a grand scale their beauty is only just fleeting and can you think of anyone who's ever stopped a dinner conversation with "ohmygod, I saw the most amazing firework"?

Farts sparks

Can you really see guests at the table with their forks halfway to their mouths and their jaws hanging open as you describe "well, the sparks were pink and flamey and then it went bang, kinda thing."

Yet every year we must spend hundreds of millions of pounds on these bloody things for what? To stand in the garden in the freezing cold watching some little spinning thing fart sparks that just ends up pissing off the neighbour's pets.

God, I sound like a grumpy old man. I mean, I guess there's one thing that could cheer me up. A good bang perhaps?

Bunged up

Do you remember a few days ago I pointed you to that hideous but hilarious clip of "Barbra" hacking her guts out in a recording studio? The best thing about it is was the grotesque nature of it which makes it even funnier.

Well I've found another one for you.

This time it ain't Babs, it's Madge and apparently it's not 'Confessions on a Dancefloor' but 'Constipation on the Dancefloor'.

Watch this clip on YouTube of her latest single 'Bunged Up' (Hung up), it's kept me in stitches for er, a few minutes. Go, Bo! Selecta!

Gym Day 164 / Body-for-LIFE Day: 16 / Weight: 85.6kgs

Good day at the gym, cardio all the way but thundered on the treadmill burning up more than 320 calories. Feeling great and arms are aching from a brilliant upper body session from yesterday. All is good.

Gym Day 162: Run Bobby, Run!

2006-11-03T21:08:00.000Z

Body-for-LIFE: Day 14

The last three days have been tough.

A friend visited from South Africa who I hadn't seen since January so needless to say there was much cheer and champagne.

But for the last two days we've been back at the gym and hitting it hard. Though I have to admit I am struggling to believe that it was 14 days ago that I started Body-for-LIFE. It seems much less.

A coupla of you have asked some questions about how it's going. I thought I should have a go at a few answers.

Again though, thanks for the mail, support and encouragement. It is appreciated more than you know.

First question from firstimpre55ion, who was wondering why I pigged out so badly last Friday when I was supposed to be on a diet.

FI, apparently because the eating plan is so strict your body reckons you're in some sort of fasting state. So your metabolism slows down.

"Go Mad Day", as I call it, is apparently the best way to let your body know not to slow down its metabolism and that you're not starving yourself. I can see the logic though the danger of "Go Mad Day" is that it encourages bingeing so I guess you should be careful.

Then Brenton asked about the programme.
"Is [Body-for-LIFE] working well? I'm trying to bulk up and get defined all at the same time...."

Matey - it's going brilliantly though I would have two main criticisms.

First is that you have to stick to it rigidly. It is so regimented and strict that I can see why it could lead to some people yo-yo dieting.

Secondly it's fucken expensive to do properly. Protein shakes, supplements, milk, gym, food - it all adds up very quickly. The programme recommends you eat a prime cut of beef nearly every third day. With a Tesco rib-eye steak coming in at about £4 a cut, you do the maths.

If you want to get ripped and build it's perfect. Though I say the whole thing is designed more to get you ripped than built.

About two weeks ago I set myself a mini challenge.

I did something that even the best amongst us admit to. Well, Freestyleguy admitted to doing it so I know I'm in good company.

Yes, I bought a piece of clothing that was too small in the hope that I would work out to be able to fit into it. I told you about it here.

The plan was "not to look good naked yet but to look good in that bitch of a fitted jersey."

This is that "bitch" of a jersey...

And this is me in it...

Mission accomplised? I should fucken hope so.

Now all I want is to be able to look with that jersey lying on the floor at the bottom of the bed.

Preferably at the bottom of his bed (below). Yubba yubba.

(What the fuck do you mean "yubba, yubba". Surely you mean "hubba, hubba..." you fucken idiot!)

It's because...

2006-11-01T16:52:00.000Z

...I have a lack of the bloody internet at home that means I'm not telling you everything I want to!

Once BT get off their bloody arses and sort me out I sit in silence!

Normal service will resume shortly!

Gym Day 155: Food Glorious Food

2006-10-27T23:08:00.000+01:00

Body-for-LIFE: Day 7

The premise of the workout program is this: you kill yourself for six days and then on day 7 you avoid any exercise and gorge on as much food as possible.

The theory is that after six days of very strict eating and exercise your body starts to think it's in starving mode and your metabolism slows down.

Going food-mad on the 7th day is a way of telling your system "everything's okay...". Fridays are my "go mad" day.

So what have I eaten?

2 X Muller light yoghurts
1 X Tesco Sweet Chilli Prawn & Noodle wrap
1 X Tesco Tiger Prawn, Salmon & Crayfish Bloomer
1 X Tesco Prawn sushi wrap
1 X large plate of fried fish, chips (fries) & mushy peas
2 X glasses of Pinot Grigio
2 x Red Bulls
1 X M&S Vanilla Bean Maple Syrup smoothie
1 X M&S Poached Salmon Watercress sandwich
1 x M&S New York Deli Pastrami sandwich
2 x bars of white chocolate
3 x cups of milky, sugary tea.

Now that's what I call a diet!

That hideous impersonation of Barbra I poined to you in this post got me thinking.

Who is the worst professional singer in the world? Not that Barbra's the worst, au contraire, she's one of the best but I wondered it nonetheless.

Well, I've surfed the net so you don't have to.

There's a woman from New Zealand called Wing who, many agree, is probably one of the most famous people in the world who calls themselves a singer despite having any obvious vocal talent.

As a singer, quite honestly, Wing stinks. But that doesn't stop her funding her own albums and releasing them.

Some people are so bad they're good. Wing is just bad. Period.

You can click here to go to her website and make sure you listen to some of the samples.

Dancing Queen is particular ear-ache, as is the cover of AC/DC's Highway to Hell. What is she like?!

No, trust me - Wing is completely serious. What is worrying is how much she sounds like Kate Bush!

Gym Day 154: Grotesque impersonation

2006-10-26T00:05:00.000+01:00

Body-for-LIFE: Day 6

Another day of cardio - 20 minutes of running which as you know involves a lot of panting, sweating and swearing.

Instead of dwelling on the negative, let's look at the positive.

Here are five things that are nice

1/ My body weight is 85kgs, the lowest it’s been since at least 1999.

2/ Watching Meryl Streep dominate The Devil Wears Prada is nice and funny. That’s all.

3/ Tyler Brule is to launch a new magazine called Monocle. Expect it to make the likes of GQ and Vanity Fair look like a cheap Christmas catalogue.
Brule is to base the magazine in London - yet another reason we’re snatching back the “coolest city in the world” crown from New York.

4/ There’s nothing funnier than a grotesque impersonation of Barbra Streisand like this one on YouTube. It’s the coughing that cracks me up everytime.

5/ Apparently at the end of the last-ever British Airways Concorde flight the pilot wrote on a panel at the back of the cockpit; “Concorde est toujours vivant, il n’est qu’en sommeil.” (Concorde lives on, it is only sleeping). I like that.

So here's something you thought you'd never see on this site. Yes, here's a picture of a sexy, svetle and gorgeous bird.

If there is one thing I know I'm going to regret one day it's not having flown on her. Apparently there's a group of French enthusiasts who're working very hard to get her back in the air. Here's hoping.

Picture taken from airliners.net, one of the coolest websites on the net.

Gym Day 152: Tick... tick....

2006-10-24T12:01:00.000+01:00

Body-for-Life: Day 4

Today in the "we'll make you fit-as-fuck" nightmare that is Body-for-LIFE, the regime dictated I run for twenty goddam minutes. Yes, count 'em - 20 long minutes.

Do you know what's the worst thing about running like hell for twenty minutes? Time doesn't run with you.

Oh no, it ambles along like some old woman in the Sainsbury's with her tartan-clothed push cart on wheels.

You live and die with each bloody second; panting, pounding, schwitzing.

And as the clock just seems to get slower and slower so the cursing just gets worse as it gets harder and harder.

18'41"
Fuck. cunt. fucker. fuck ow. ow. run. fuck. why. am. I. doing. this? fuck. cunt. pant. pant.

18'42"
Pant. breathe. ow. fuck. run. fuck. this. hurts. cunting. fuck. fuck.

18'43"
I hate this shit. fuck. run. run. ow. shit. fuck.

Running on an empty stomach, shortly after you've woken up, for 20 minutes flat out is bloody hard. Not least when your legs are as stiff as planks from the day before.

So there's nothing more satisfying than a piping hot shower at the end of it, if only to wash my filthy mouth out.

And cue picture of hot naked stud in shower all soaped up. Gratuitous? I love it.

Gym Day 151: Gettin' a leg over

2006-10-23T23:54:00.000+01:00

Body-for-LIFE: Day 3

Bastard day at the gym which can be summed up in one word: legs.

I know I've had a good leg work-out when I walk out of the gym and it looks like I've shat my pants.

The muscles on the back of my legs (hamstrings...) are still pretty tight. I mean it's a fucken relief I'm don't need to bend over or anything.

No, seriously.

My flatmate turned to me today - we were talking about men - and asked me about my sex life.

What could I say other than offer her a cup of tea? What's there to say? It's a fucken joke. A list of Jewish sports heros would dwarf my list of recent shags.

God. At this stage even the jokes are beginning to stink. I'm going to bed, talk amongst yourselves.

Oh listen, firstly the joke about Jewish athletes isn't mine. I ripped it off from the movie Airplane!

And just while I think about it I wanted to make two recommendations.

1/ The book Air Babylon is a (cliche alert!) "behind the scenes expose" of the airline industry. Some of it is a little hard to believe but I'm willing to accept that, apparently, when people die onboard flights, they have to move the corpse around the plane using the drinks trolley.
Don't get me wrong, Air Babylon is not fucken Tolstoy but it's entertaining nonetheless.

2/ The Queen, the movie about that endearing old lady who rattles around Buckingham Palace, or in the case of the film, Balmoral Castle, is excellent.
Dame Helen Mirren is brilliant, brilliant. And once more with feeling: brilliant. If you do go and see it and hate it, don't blame me. The Independent and the FT gave it 5 out of 5 too.

Gym Day 150: Think sixpack, think sixpack...

2006-10-22T23:20:00.000+01:00

Body-for-LIFE: Day 2

I am absolutely fucking starving.

Today I have eaten (and I had to be at work early, hence the bizarre timings):

06.15am - vegetable breakfast wrap
08.20am - protein shake
09.15am - 3 EAS thermogenic capsules (I always want to call them thermonuclear...)
10.20am - tuna sandwich on brown bread
01.30pm - protein shake
04.30pm - steamed salmon, steamed vegetables and brown rice
07.00pm - protein shake

This is apparently the structure and amount Body-for-LIFE recommends you consume every day. So I'll say it again. I am fucking starving.

I think tonight I am going to dream of food. My housemate cooked a gorgeous smelling chicken soup earlier. I wanted to stab her.

She had a pretty heavy night out last night so earlier I had to endure watching as she scoffed her way through a fucking satellite dish-sized plate of baked beans and sausages on brown toast smeared with butter.

Think sixpack. Think sixpack. Think sixpack.

I wonder if this fucker below was ever sat on his bed with the laptop looking longingly at the Ikea bookcase and wondering if it may taste of meatballs?

Look up at the right-hand column on this site - there's a link to a page which shows my progress in pictures. Don't click on it because it's too depressing to look at.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, along comes Jay who, like me, wanted to get themselves into shape.

Jay, mate - I have only one word to say to you.

Sonovabitch.

Look at him! It looks like one of those adverts you see in a bloody bodybuilding magazine!

Actually Jay, the word I have for you isn't sonovabitch, it's respect.

You've just become a great inspiration and proved to me that it can be done. You're looking shit-hot, well done.

Go and read all about Jay's progress while I start to eat the goddam pillow.

The vitriol continues tomorrow...x x

Gym Day 149: Body-for-LIFE

2006-10-21T22:29:00.000+01:00

I fear I may be becoming the King of False Starts.

Tomorrow it will be the 150th day since I started this blog.

It seems like am sitting here, looking exactly as I did when I started.

I've had a shit week because I've just lost total focus at the gym. I've been eating like a man who hasn't seen food for years.

I have been drinking like it's as if someone's said that France is about to run out of Merlot.

In short, I've had a fucken good time.

But it still makes my heart sink when I look into the mirror and see more fat than fab.

Without further ado

All I want to do is to be able to look good naked. You'd think it was pretty bloody easy, wouldn't you?

Well it is, in theory. Eat less and exercise more I hear you say. Yeah, whatever.

Right, now shut up, sit down and listen.

Without any further ado I hereby declare that I have dusted off the old Body-for-LIFE book.

I started it before and in the two weeks that I stuck to it, I really noticed a difference.

I am intent on finishing the 12 week course.

I will follow the instructions for the next three months.

I will stick to what the book says and suck, three times a day, on those fucken awful protein drinks. I will not give up.

Had I done so when I started this blog I would be looking a lot better than I am now.

We're in last-bloody-chance saloon here, mate.

So, without wanting to go on for too long - yes, it's another bloody re-start. Another change in plan. Another attempt to finish the initial goal I set myself.

I will go from a body embarrassment to The Body Beautiful.

And quickly - if you like sexy house music here's a fabulous remix of an old standard that reminds me of being young, naive and fat. Ignorance certainly was bliss.

Gym Day 144: I Amsterdam

2006-10-16T15:36:00.000+01:00

I admit, I'm smitten.

Amsterdam has to be one of the coolest places in the world and I absolutely loved it.

Although I was only visiting for two days, there wasn't one moment when I felt like a foreigner in a foreign country. Of course Amsterdam has a long and celebrated liberal tradition but I also found the city and its people so warm.

Needless to say I spent much of Saturday and Sunday drunk and while it was great to be in Amsterdam it was also great to meet up with old friends.

On Saturday night, after a particularly aggressive session of drinking, we thought it would be great fun to try and push a car, parked alongside a canal, into it.

I woke up on Sunday morning in a complete sweat.

"What the fuck would I have done if someone had forgot to put their handbrake on and we'd nudged the car and it went tumbling into the water!?"

I guess that's another thing to add to the list of things you shouldn't do when you're drunk.

Still though, Amsterdam is a brilliant, beautiful and lovely city and I cannot wait to go back.

I want to have a better look at the things I did see (the red light district, the canals, the bicycles) and the things I didn't (everything else including the Concertgebouw, Rijksmuseum etc.)

Gym Day 142: Bollocks to that...

2006-10-13T21:34:00.000+01:00

Tomorrow morning at about 10am I will have landed in Amsterdam and I will probably be drunk.

I'm meeting a friend from South Africa who's visiting family in the Netherlands and so I'm going over for the weekend to see him.

I fully anticipate that I will be drunk by lunchtime. When I see Nettie that's usually the way it is.

We've known each other since we were 13 years old, at school together and it's not often that we see each other so it's always a celebration.

Poof-joint

He, I and another were the three guys at school who were "out" mainly because we just didn't care.

One weekend, when we were allowed home from the boarding house, we stole his mother's car and escaped to Bronx - the city's only real gay club.

We should have got a serious bollocking but when his mother found out we'd stolen her car to sneak off to the local poof-joint, she proclaimed it to be the happiest day of her life.

She was more excited then, than when she was after receiving a call from the boarding house master to say we'd been found in bed together in our school uniform.

Not that anything has ever happened between Nettie and I.

On that occasion we'd been out all night and sat through a day of school barely able to keep our eyes open.

After the final bell we returned to the boarding house and instead of going to lunch, snuck back up to our dormitory for a cigarette.

It was a combination of the cigarette and the fatigue that put us both to sleep, together in each other's arms in uniform. Tongues will wag.

Je ne regrette rien

After finishing school Nettie and I remained friends but it became difficult. I wasn't sexually attracted to him and he wasn't to me so we looked elsewhere for intimacy - as we'd always done.

Hence, sadly, we drifted apart.

Nettie found Edwina and they've been happily co-habiting ever since. It blunted things because we were always going to be single, boistrous and care-free lads about town. Ironically though, love got in the way of all those plans.

It's been 10 years since we were at school and nearly four years since I left South Africa and last had a good night out with him.

So tomorrow when I see him it will be like old times. Two boys going mad without a care in the world. Worrying though we'll be in Amsterdam and not in the confines of a strict all-boys' school upbringing.

If we get really drunk over lunch we'll sing the song we always used to call our "anthem..."

Non! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait
Ni le mal tout ça m'est bien égal !

Non ! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette rien...
C'est payé, balayé, oublié
Je me fous du passé!

Avec mes souvenirs
J'ai allumé le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs
Je n'ai plus besoin d'eux !

Balayés les amours
Et tous leurs trémolos
Balayés pour toujours
Je repars à zéro ...

Non ! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette nen ...
Ni le bien, qu'on m'a fait
Ni le mal, tout ça m'est bien égal!

Non ! Rien de rien ...
Non ! Je ne regrette rien ...
Car ma vie, car mes joies
Aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi!

That's why tonight I thought bugger the gym. Bugger the bench press and bugger the body.

Instead, I would prepare for to see Nettie as only we knew how...

So raise your glasses and sing along...

I'm back on Sunday evening and will tell you all then.

Gym Day 141: Creating the war chest

2006-10-12T21:57:00.000+01:00

Another day, another bench press.

It's become the story of my life really. Gym, gym, gym - and the encouraging thing is that things seem to be changing.
Well, at least the waist is shrinking if nothing else.

I try and do at least 60 sit-ups each session which, if you break it down, is 3 x 20 situps each. That's not a lot. If you do it five times a week that 300. It has to make a difference.

Here are my little icons which tell you I've been to gym on this day. I've drank my two litres of water (everyday, at least!) and my "I'm so proud because I haven't had a boozer" icon.
It's trebles all round!

All I can say at this point is that this is where my blog very definitely swims in the shallow end.

But I'm hardly going to start apologising for it now.

Do you see that brown sweater on the left? I have to admit I do what so many of the gays (and women) do. I buy clothes that I plan to wear when I can fit into them.

That jersey is one of them. It's knitted and although you can't tell it now, is very fitted. Thus it shows off just about every curve from your neck to your waist.

It's basically a tanktop with sleeves.

Now as you can guess I have had my fair share of curves - more in the waist area than anywhere else. But I have set myself a challenge.

Personal stain

A friend who I haven't seen for years is coming to London on November 30th and we will probably end up having a very drunken dinner at my favourite restaurant in Soho and then going out afterwards.

So here's the challenge: I want to wear that little sucker out.

Now before you all scoff at once, have you ever worn a tanktop amongst the gays? You feel more exposed than a beauty queen in a bikini on parade with an embarassing personal stain. It's tough.

But I have two weeks to do it. Two weeks to build my arms up to fill out the sleeves and two weeks to get my stomach flat so that it doesn't stick out further than my pecs.

I got a letter from Jay who had some brilliant advice. "Take care of the little goals and the big goal will take care of itself."

So that's my little goal for the next two weeks. Not to look good naked yet but to look good in that bitch of a fitted jersey.

"Oh, look at the gays", you say...! Don'tcha just love our hidden shallows?!

And yes, expect pics come J(ersey)-Day.

Gym Day 140: All out for nothing

2006-10-11T00:49:00.000+01:00

An okay session at the gym bar the grunting.

Yep - two of the personal trainers were working each other out and making a lot of noise while doing it.

One of them I know to be allegedly straight because I've seen elsewhere holding hands with a girl. The other one I'm not so sure about.

He is gorgeously hot but hmmm... I think if I ever ended up in a log cabin with him my leg would start shaking.

Do you ever get that? It happens when you're just about to start making out with someone fucken hot and you get the leg-shake. I reckon it's your hormones way of punching the air and going "yee-ha!"

I want to tell you what I've been doing in the gym but I have purposefully left my gym book at home to mix things up a little. Normal service will resume shortly.

Apparently in the United States today, October 11th, is National Coming Out day.

So is there anything anyone would like to tell us?

I don't know what it's like to not be known as someone who's gay so I guess that in itself is bizarre.

And admit it, as soon as you read that about me not knowing what it's like to be known as straight, you immediately thought "oh, he must be effeminate" or, "he must be a complete queen...".

Unfortunately, and friends will vouch for me on this, I'm not.

I've just been incredibly lucky - my parents, family and friends have always known and have accepted me.

I went to an all-boys boarding school which should have been tough but I played sport and joined in all aspects of school life like the rest of the guys.

Faggot

Fair enough I was in the Drama Society but when it came to the annual House Plays, for three years running the house I was in charge of won every single award.

I'm sure there must have been some who had a problem with me or whispered "faggot" under their breath but I never ever heard it said.

I remember me and a friend were caught bunking out to a gay club when we should have been at the hostel, in bed.

Word spread around the place on the Sunday morning that I and my friend had been caught at a gay club and I was dreading going to school on the Monday.

No, I wasn't dreading going back because of the taunts I may have faced - I dreaded going back as I had to attend P.E. and see the teacher who I'd seen at the gay club who'd obviously bust me.

Respect

Ironically I reckon that it was because, and not in spite of, me and my two mates were so "out" that other guys didn't really bother trying to tease us.

I've had the luxury of never having to endure the angst of telling someone I was gay and while I can't sympathise I can kind of understand what it must be like.

So to all you guys - you know who you are - who're having to tell loved-ones, family members and friends that you're gay I say you have all my respect and may it always go as well as you'd hoped it would.

You're probably a lot more brave than what I might have been.

Gym Day 139: A welcome day off

2006-10-10T19:29:00.000+01:00

Yep - there really is an icon to show that I've not been at the gym and it's below.

It's marvellous to have the day off and as anyone will tell you - it's when you're not at the gym that you build strength and muscle, not when you're at it.

I thought it was about time we dipped our hand into our bulging sack to see what was inside.

As you know, I like nothing more than a large package shoved through my slot on any given morning and recently the postman has been making quite a few deliveries!

Thanks to everyone who's written including John H, Guy and Justin. If you're also on a gym mission I'd love to know about how you're getting on. bobbysbody@gmail.com

This e-mail came from Allan and I wanted to share.

Hi

Thought you might like to know that the impossible can come true if you stick with it. I had become a boring middle aged fart with pin stripped suit and shiny black shoes and a 38” waist.

Steady on mate...

In October 2005 I started working out again with a great personal trainer. Last week I bought a new pair of jeans “slim fit” at French Connection Oxford Street 28” waist and the fit is perfect. Also lost 20 odd kg in weight.

Atta boy! That's what we like to hear!

I honestly thought above to be impossible and I was really depressed about never getting sex again. Now I’m not the biggest sexpot around but I always have a good time at Chariots, Manbar etc.

One day I must tell you about the time I went to Manbar - I left feeling really depressed.

It was one of the reasons why I decided to start on this mission to get into shape.

Even though I'm not where I want to be physically I have noticed that when I go into bars and clubs, there are so many more people who give me the once over. It really is a good feeling.

And I reckon Allan will say exactly the same as I do.

I'm not doing this gym-body-thing to fit some gay stereotype, I'm doing it to feel better about me.

And - just like a stuck record - I'll say it again.

I don't want to be 60 years old, at a Gay Pride event or on the beach and looking around at the acres of toned muscle thinking "I really wish I'd looked like that when I was younger..."

All the more reason to continue onwards and upwards at the gym...

The photo above is taken from crichton91's flickr set which you can look at by clicking here.

Gym Day 138: I gym therefore I arm

2006-10-10T00:47:00.000+01:00

Weight: - 86.5kgs
Sit-ups: 60
I left the book at home which was the start of everything going pear-shaped

A semi-disastrous day at the gym because I was yawning before I even got there. I then left my shorts at home and ... oh, do you really care? Suffice to say I left early, though only by 15 minutes, mind.

And actually for all the sound and fury I did have quite a good session.

I did some back and chest and although I didn't sweat buckets I left feeling better for having been than for having given up.

That's the best rule of gym - it's better to have gone and done a little than to have not gone at all.

Remember yesterday we were talking about songs that remind you of the 80s?

It was prompted after watching Overboard on Channel 4 on Saturday afternoon. So I couldn't stop myself making another list.

Here are some of my favourite movies from the 80s. Of course ET, Dirty Dancing and the Goonies deserve to be on the list but in my opinion they fall below these seven (in no particular order except for the last one...)

Do you remember Licence to Drive?

Teenager flunks his driver's licence test but then steals his grandad's Cadillac for a night on the town!?

And I've only just realised, noticing the poster, that Heather Graham stars in it, she plays Mercedes (It's a movie about cars and there's a girl called Mercedes in it, geddit!?).

Do you remember the fierce driving instructor woman? God... and the fact that Corey Haim was cute made watching it that much easier.

Haunted Honeymoon is a ridiculous film with Gene Wilder in which he attends a big family wedding where has to be sacred witless to cure him of a fear of thunderstorms or something?!

Anyway, there are werewolves and Dom DeLuise in drag playing his neurotic aunt Kate. It's all pretty stupid and I haven't seen it for years but I seem to remember the butler being called Fister. (Pfister is how imdb.com spells it...).

It is mindless rubbish at its best but still, the memories of watching it are far better than the movie itself.

Adventures in Babysitting... ah... Elizabeth Shue. I used to think she was so cool. There is something really "Saturday night" about this film - I think it was because when my parents were out (usually on a Saturday night), we'd always have this on to watch.

My favourite part in Ghostbusters is when Sigourney Weaver is possessed, dressed in red and starts talking about Zuul.

And of course the theme tune is just vintage 80s.

Thanks to the magic of YouTube I have found the clip of when Bill Murray visits Sigourney Weaver - you can watch it here.

Isn't it funny now that you're older you can watch it and see how they've spoofed The Exorcist. I remember at the time it was really freaky!

What would a list of iconic 80s movies be without Back to the Future?

When I was young all I wanted to be was Marty McFly and drive a silver DeLorean.

"Are you calling me chicken?!"

The best part in Uncle Buck is when John Candy goes to school to pick up his niece Tia in his beaten up old street-fighter which runs very rich.

It back-fires just outside the school and everyone leaps onto the floor.

You can click here to watch the trailer on YouTube.

Clue, (left) is a really obscure movie you may not have heard about but it has a special place.

My favourite character was Mrs White (Madeline Kahn always...).

So how could me favourite line not be: "flames... flames on the side of my head... breathing... breathless... heaving... heaving breaths...", which was all apparently ad-libbed.

I still have Clue on the same VHS tape I first recorded it on nearly 18 years ago.

I've left Cannonball Run II til last because it is one of my most memorable films of the 80s and probably one of the worst-ever.

It's so bad it makes Showgirls look superior. It's an amazing cast in a movie which stinks but I have seen it so many times I can't help but enjoy it.

Again, thanks to YouTube I have found the opening scene and credits to Cannonball Run II, which incidentally is much worse than the original Cannonball Run. Watch the clip of the opening here.

Tell me, how much does that take you back? Listen to that Lamborghini Countach...

A thousand thanks indeed!

Do you remember any of them?

Gym Day 137: Chest what I needed

2006-10-08T15:46:00.000+01:00

Weight: 86.5kgs
Another satisfying session so I thought I would post another picture of my progress.

I know I sometimes moan that this is a difficult and long slog, this "body thing", but if you really work hard and eat properly it is possible to look the way you'd like to.

Not that this (above) is where I'd like to be physically but I have noticed a distinct change in just the last four days.

I hope that when I post pictures again on October 12th, you'll be able to see just what I mean. Time marches quicker than you think.

I didn't have a song-of-the-session but I found the one below. HOW long has been since you've heard this one?

I figure that a pain shared is a pain eased so I want to share something with you.

One of the girls who I live with is super fit and has an incredible body. In fact I reckon if she was a bloke she would easily be the star of a few aussieBum adverts. She has a sixpack for godsake.

Gorgeous John

She's one of these people who eats whatever and still manages to look amazing. She's the kind of girl that goes out clubbing in a top, hot pants and stilettos (and no, she's not a slag...)

The upside to all of this is she brings home some extra fine specimens of man. The latest guy she's seeing's nickname is 'GJ'. His friends all call him GJ. It stands for Gorgeous John.

You get the picture.

The downside to her being superfit and able to eat what she likes is this:

I don't know how long I can last. I have this terrible urge to stick my finger into the jar.

It's not that that's worrying me, it's that if I do it once I will have to do it until the jar's empty.

Spatula

When you bite into a Ferroro Rocher you get that gooey smooth chocolate centre - Nutella is just basically a jar of that gooey chocolate centre. It's made by the same people.

I've thought about having it on toast but that just won't help. I'm one of these people who will spread it on with a spatula.

Why does it seem that all the best things in life are bad for you?

If you have a blog you'll know what it's like when you find someone who's linked to you because they liked you and you didn't know about it. It's a nice litle surprise.

Though I have to say it's an even nicer surprise when you stumble upon someone who's linked to you, only because they seem to loathe you.

Ladies and Gentleman, meet Geek to Hunk
His website is basically an oddly written polemic against gay boys who seek to be the stereotype - that is muscle boys in Calvin Klein underwear.

He makes a fair point badly but he has a point nonetheless.

I've said so many times, this mission is not to end up looking like the "stereotype". The goal is far more shallow than that. I wrote about it all here.

At the end of his post GeektoHunk writes:

"Bobby. You are fat.
Would Bobby remain embarrasst about himself, after becoming a hunk?"

To answer that simply; matey one of the reasons I'm doing this is so that I don't end up embarrassed by the way I look.

Thanks for checking out my site and see you in the gym. x x

Finally, while writing this I have been listening to that Michael Sembello track and have come up with ten songs which remind me so much of the 80s.
Which ones have I left out?

1. Michael Sembello - Maniac
2. Sade - Smooth Operator
3. Murray Head - One Night In Bangkok
4. FR David - Words
5. Sheena Easton - Strut
6. Freddie Mercury & Montserrat Caballé - Barcelona
7. Black Lace - Agadoo
8. Kate Bush - Wuthering Heights
9. Eurythmics - Sweet Dreams
10. Michael Jackson - Thriller

Gym Day 136: Armed alarm

2006-10-07T17:00:00.000+01:00

Weight: 86kgs
Had a brilliant yet hideous session at the gym this morning.

Firstly I snapped the picture (below) and thought, is this all actually making any difference?

Trying not to get depressed I traipsed to the gym.

It was one of those mornings when everything and I mean everything started to irritate me.

People weren't walking in a straight line. Guys in the changing room walking around in their swimming costumes getting the floor wet and everytime I walked over to a machine someone would push in first.

I thought fuck the notebook and soldiered on, despite being ready to strangle and felt so much better as a result.

Once the endorphins come out, it's all so much better.

Song that got me through today's session:
Bodyrox - Yeah Yeah (D Ramirez Remix)

All about the music on Bobby's Body Blog

Question: What would you do?

You're on the Tube (the Central Line to be precise) and there's a really hot guy sitting opposite you with a rather large and delicately-placed tear in his jeans?

Answer: Yes of course. You take a photo of it with your mobile phone and stick it on your site for all the world to see.

It would have been a little less subtle if he'd had a pink neon sign around his waist with the words "Stare Here" and an arrow.

I couldn't tell if he was doing a "Sharon Stone" but not for a want to trying to look.

Is this what they mean on London Underground when they say "mind the gap"?

Gym Day 135: Getting in arms way

2006-10-06T18:42:00.000+01:00

Weight: - 86kgs!
Cardio: Distance - 1,95km / Time - 12'00 / Calories - 191
Sit-ups: 120
Lat machine pull-down: 68kgs after 4 sets ending on 4 reps
Seated machine row: 60kgs after 5 sets ending on 4 reps
Standing bicep shoulder fly: 33kgs after 4 sets ending on 4 reps
Push-ups to end: 2 sets of 20 each

At 7pm I was at an office party facing a massive table covered with what looked like an acre of wine. I touched none of it.

Instead, when I got to the gym I felt so much better for being there. Dedicated? You bet...

Song that got me through today's session:
Fedde Le Grand: Put Your Hands Up For Detroit.

All about the music on Bobby's Body Blog

I was reading an old Holy Moly mailout and reminded of something fucken hot that I'd forgotten about.

Yes - one of the erstwhile members of Duran Duran was goddam fit and would happily get his willy out and show it off to all the gays.

Don't believe me?!

His name is Warren Cuccurullo and he has collaborated with Duran Duran and Frank Zappa.

Yeah, but the pooves don't give a fuck about that. You just wanna see his knob, dontcha?!

Well below's a tease...

...but you can find all of him looking pretty hot here.
Very work unfriendly.

He posed for a gay Brazilian magazine, got a latex mould made of his cock and sold it as a Rock Rod. Legend.

But hang on! It didn't end there.

He even made videos of himself, having a marvellous time jerking off, for instance.
The link is SO work unfriendly it'll make your eyes water.

What a bloke!

He's very definitely straight but has a gorgeous body and is more than happy to show it off and let the woofters perv all over him. This is a man I can do business with!

Warren mate, keep it up and keep on rocking.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T, as the gays like to say.

Gym Day 134: Arm-a-gedden' better

2006-10-05T19:49:00.000+01:00

Weight: - I forgot!
Cardio: Distance - 2,20km / Time - 14'00 / Calories - 220
Sit-ups: 120
Flat bench press dumbell: 55kgs after 4 sets ending on 4 reps
Chest fly machine: 27.5kgs after 5 sets ending on 4 reps
Both arms bicep curl: 35kgs after 4 sets ending on 6 reps
Arms matrix: Two sets using 10 kgs

Again, you'll see I didn't go mad.

When you haven't been to the gym for a while, my tip is don't go completely mad on the first day. Because when you walk through the day on the second day you'll think "I've done enough of this bloody nonsense..." and get bored.

I reckon you should always leave the gym thinking "I need to just do that one last exercise..." that way it keeps you motivated to keep coming back.

Song that got me through today's session:
Danii Minogue & Soulseekerz: Perfection (Seamus Haji & Emanuel Remix)

I nearly choked on... well, had I been eating something I would have probably choked on it when I saw a folded copy of tonight's London Lite on the tube.

The headline in huge bold letters: party was a gay orgy.

What did it say underneath the fold? Can you imagine the possibilities?!

"A-list actor admits..." or "Hot boyband member says he would love to take Bobby (me) to a party that was..."

Nope, nothing so exotic.

Do you remember this story about a man falling to his death in Chelsea, west London?

Well apparently an inquest has heard that the guy who fell, to quote from the BBC "was attending a gay sex party".

Hang on...gay sex party? There were only five guys involved. Five people hardly constitutes an orgy. 25 maybe.

Attending an orgy

While it is tragic that the result of the party was one man dead and untold heartache it did get me thinking nonetheless...

I reckon most guys probably fantasise about attending an orgy. I know I have thought about it.

Could I actually bring myself to get naked in a room with loads of other blokes and have sex with most of them? I'm not sure if I could.

What if you walk in and see the most hottest bloke in the world getting his ass pounded by someone smelly, elderly, overweight and with a hairy back?

Making the moves

I think I would feel quite depressed. Especially if the hot boy then gave me the brush off.

And what if you see someone who you find totally unattractive but who starts making the moves on you. Are you at liberty to say; "sorry mate, but no..."

I guess when it comes to an orgy you have to basically leave all your clothes and emotions at the door.

If I really had to, I don't know if I could do that. Could you?

Gym Day 133: Run Bobby, Run!

2006-10-04T23:29:00.000+01:00

Weight: 87kgs
Cardio: Distance - 3,02km / Time - 22'00 / Calories - 320
Right - now listen.

I stepped onto the treadmill at 7pm-ish. Exactly twelve hours earlier I was waking up in a hotel room in Bournemouth still in the clothes from the night before.

Yes, I had gotten drunk again. I really need to stop doing this.

And yes... okay - technically I know the symbol below says I've not had a thing to drink and it's technically correct. Since midnight I honestly haven't had anything to drink.

It just doesn't help that at midnight I was passed out on my bed, absolutely shit-faced.

Song that got me through today's session:
Jewel - Serve The Ego (Gabriel and Dresden Club Mix)

Gym Day 130: Running Up A Sweat

2006-10-02T19:53:00.000+01:00

Weight: 88kgs (since last Wednesday, after a weekend of solid eating and drinking, I am 2 kilos heavier!)
Cardio: Distance - 3,20km / Time - 22'10 / Calories - 302
According to Body For Life you should, just for one session, do intense cardio. That's what I did this morning lumbering up onto the treadmill filled with fried breakfasts and endless pints of beer. By the time I stepped off my t-shirt was drenched. Bloody marvellous. Weights and sit-ups can wait until tomorrow.

Song that got me through today's session:
The Egg - Walking Away

Is it just me or... isn't it so depressing that it's just after 19.30 and, looking out of the window, it's dark. Where did the bloody summer go? Where has this year gone? It's October for god's sake.

And, can I say that finding amusement at other peoples' expense is a very nasty thing to do.

Except if it's a man in a Ferrari who's been stopped by the police - as I spotted in West London.

Then of course you can laugh as much as you like.

Okay, I admit. I'm just jealous.

Would you think less of me if I told you that what's on the left (below) is just about as sexy as what's on the right?

I have something to admit.

Yes, I love fast cars.

But listen, before you condemn me - it's not a problem that can be "cured".

For as long as I can remember I've loved them and yes, I've told my parents and they fully support my choice.

My dad was surprisingly accepting. He said "son, love what you like, as long as it isn't a bloody Volvo."

I'm off again... and now I'm back

2006-09-28T10:23:00.000+01:00

No seriously...

I'm going to Falmouth in Cornwall for the night. I then have a function in deepest darkest Devon on Saturday lunchtime.

Then on Sunday I'm travelling to Bournemouth where the Conservatives are having their annual conference. I am not a Tory - it's simply work which is dragging me around the south west of England for the next few days.

So I will be back on Monday (if I get can the net working on the hotel room...) or on Wednesday.

(Do you really care?!)

Update
Right, Sunday 1st October 2006

Sitting on my bed, back in London and quite honestly, this is what I feel like (below).

The last few days have just been one long piss up. I reckon I have put on at least 3kgs. I have developed a muffin stomach.
The last four days have been something like this:
Thursday = pissed
Friday = large hangover, massive cooked English breakfast to start, on the beer again by lunchtime.
Saturday = hangover, massive English breakfast, on the beer again by lunchtime, Saturday night I got absolutely shid-faced.
Sunday = very sore head, massive stodgy English breakfast, more beer at lunch.
Finally got home and stopped...

So like all good gays, just as I got home, I go to check e-mail and find a very beautiful boy has left a message for me on Manhunt - which I've only just found but seems quite good.

Anyway - he sends his photo (which I hope he won't mind me sharing...) and I think "phwoar!, get that..."

Of course not 30 minutes later and he's lying underneath me.

He's the first guy in a very long time who I've met off the net and he had the MOST beautiful body. I kept kissing his stomach and I could run my tongue between the ridges of his sixpack.

It was marvellous and even though I felt like a fat pig (and probably looked like one too...) it was fabulous to get a leg-over with someone so hot.

I was again reminded. There was a moment where he was lying on the bottom and he had his legs around my waist and his back on the bed.

The sight, from where I was sat, down his legs and across his washboard stomach, over his pecs and onto his muscular arms just reminded me of what I know...

I can't get enough of boys with beautiful bodies. And since like attracts like I think it's time I put down the booze and headed for the gym.

That's why I'm on the mission for "a body beautiful".

I want to tell you a story

2006-09-27T23:59:00.000+01:00

I have debated with myself for a long time about whether I want to share what I'm about to tell you.
But I feel I would like to.

I am partly inspired to tell it after reading an article on the BBC News website which reports that Archbishop Desmond Tutu has warned that South Africa is in danger of losing its moral direction.

It says "referring to South Africa's high murder rate and the rape of children as young as nine months, Tutu says the African reverence for life had been lost."

This may be a pretty long post, so deep breath in - and here goes.

It was one of the final nights while I was on holiday in Cape Town in January 2002.

In the early hours of the morning at 55, a club which has since closed down, it was there that I met "Ben".

We spotted each other across the dancefloor in the usual gay-cliche-club-meet.

Although he was a lot shorter than I was, he was utterly gorgeous.

He had a mop of brown straight hair, beautiful Mediterranean looks and through his white v-neck T-shirt I could see the outline of an incredible body.

One big wetspot

We did what all good gays do in a club. Eye-hockey first, then danced around each other accidently touching and then about 17 seconds later (in gays terms that's nearly a second date) we ended up snogging. Faces locked and sucking the mouths off each other.

To avoid the taunts of "oi, why don't you two get a hotel room..." we decided to do just that.

Needless to say the sex was ballistic. And of course it was non-stop.

On the bed, on the table, in the bathroom. Just looking at him turned me on. Being able to touch him and take him was like a dream come true.

He had the tightest, fittest body I'd seen in a long time, all defined and in the right place.

His olive skin was tight and the hair on his chest clipped but still rough and sexy to run your hands over.

We continued until dawn, going at each other like rabbits. The hotel room just became one big sweat and wet spot.

Finally at about lunchtime - after everything had started to come down - he said he needed to be driven home.

We showered, got a final leg over in the shower (obviously) and I drove him back to where he said he lived in Sea Point, a suburb in Cape Town.

Desperate

When we got to what he said was his house he said he didn't want me to come in. He said it would have been awkward. I remember my heart sinking. "He's got a boyfriend.." or "he's straight..." I thought.

He said that I was being paranoid so we swapped numbers and said a final good-bye.

I had told him I was leaving for London and he said that he'd love to visit Britain. He said if he ever did, he would call me. He suggested I call him anyway, just to stay in touch.

I drove home on such a high, the car could have been skipping.

I didn't manage to call him before I left two days later but thought I would do so as soon as got to London on Friday, January 17th 2003.

I remember trying to phone from London after I'd got back but the number got disconnected.

Of course not wanting to seem to desperate - he was of course 10,000 miles away - I left it.

Little did I know that 48 hours later he would be dead.

I remember that a friend, who knew I'd been in Cape Town, sent me a link to a horrific story of a massacre in a gay massage parlour.

The report said more than six men had been bound, gagged, had their throats slit and had been shot in the head.

I recognised the house in the picture in the story immediately.

I remember going very cold and very numb.

I was sitting in the internet cafe on Finchley Road, opposite the bus stop and next to the Pizza Express, at the time. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Paths crossed

The house in the story where these men had been viciously murdered was the house where I had dropped "Ben" off only a week earlier.

Being so far away all I could do was stay glued to the internet. I sat for hours and hours awaiting any update. It was when the first pictures of the victims appeared that I had to stop what I was doing. I can't describe how sick I felt.

After a few weeks of grisly and horrific stories about the crime was I able to learn who "Ben" was.

Of course his real name wasn't Ben, it was Sergio. He was one of the six rent boys.

When we spoke that morning after he told me he worked in IT and, to earn extra money, waited tables at a local coffeeshop.

I never knew his real life. I never knew the pain and the sadness that was lurking behind a face that I took such pleasure in kissing.

I wish I could have met Sergio again. I wish we could have done it all again. I think about what may have happened if I'd phoned him or if he hadn't gone into work that evening.

I wonder if, perhaps, we may have met again.

Of course fate is such a cruel master.

Even though he was just a one night stand, there's not a day that goes by that don't I think about Sergio. Recently I have been thinking about him a lot.

I sit and often wander why it is that our paths crossed.

I sometimes ask; "if they did, perhaps he had a lesson for me..?" I think maybe the lesson was that I should appreciate life and what I have. Maybe what he tried to teach me was "even after the first orgasm, don't stop!"

I don't know and never will.

And as I sit here now, I don't know why I needed to tell you all of that. But somehow I needed to.

Behind each of these blogs there is a real person with feelings, stories and experiences - I guess I just wanted to share a little of me with you.

It goes without saying that behind the headlines there too is a life with feeling and experience. We shouldn't forget that.

I don't want to get down. I have spent too long thinking about this story for it to get me down anymore. So I guess the lesson I've learnt is just to love life. Every single little bit of it.

Because there are some, more beautiful, more caring and more appreciative than we are, who just don't have the luxury of living.

Rest In Peace Sergio.
The memories will never fade and what you didn't realise you taught me will never be forgotten.
Bob.

This is how the story was first reported on IOL, a South Africa news website. Sergio's non-de-plume at the agency was "Dean".

Here is an article about Sergio with some pictures. His hair was a lot longer when we met.

Lin Sampson is one of South Africa's most respected and incisive journalists. She went to meet Sergio's mum. The achingly sad account of their meeting can be read here.

There was one survivor in the massacre and his story is told here. The two men who committed the crimes are each serving life in prison. The court in Cape Town heard their motivation was simple; they went to rob the place.

The horrific crime has been profiled on Crime Library and the entry about it is here.

Gym Day 125

2006-09-27T10:50:00.000+01:00

Right, this is what I currently look like (27/09/2006).

I always have this massive debate with myself; "should I stick these on the web?" "What if they all think I'm just having a laugh?"

I'm not particularly bothered that I'm in a rather flimsy (and fairy-like) swimming costume, what does bother me is that you look and think to yourself; "all this fucken sound and fury about the gym and er, he's hardly bloody Vin Diesel..."

Ha ha... you wait little chicken... you wait! (Not that I want to look like Vin Diesel but it takes time.)

This (below) is what I look like when I started. I've just noticed the photos are taken exactly four months apart. (I'm now just arguing with myself so you'll excuse me...)
Hullo! Definite difference. Stomach more defined, chest bigger, arms bigger, everything just more "in the right place..." If you don't like it, fuck off to the gym. Fine, then I will...

Gym Day 124: Dulce Est Decorum Chest

2006-09-26T22:52:00.000+01:00

Weight: 86kgs
Cardio warm-up: Distance - 2,20km / Time - 16'09 / Calories - 223
Benchpress: 4 sets ending on 4 reps of 40kgs each side
Incline bench pec fly: 4 reps ending on 55kgs in each hand
Bicep curls: 4 sets ending on 6 reps or 25kgs
Bicep matrix: 2 sets of 4 reps each with 9 & 10 kgs

Bobby's Boys Pt 5

It's been some time since we've had some totty thanks to Bobby's Boys. Here's boy number 5 in this occasional series. Would you kick that out of bed for farting? Well, unless he does it in the gym.

Finally...

I know I haven't posted any pictures of my progress in the gym for some time. It's because I seriously just haven't had the chance to.

If you don't like it well - you can kiss my big fat gay ass.

Gym Day 123: Back on form

2006-09-25T21:13:00.000+01:00

Weight: 86kgs
Cardio warm-up: Distance - 2'19 km / Time - 16'16 / Calories - 219
Stable bar back pull matrix: 4 reps x 40kgs X 2
Seated machine row: 4 reps on 55kgs
Standing shoulder fly: 4 reps on 25kgs

Letting one off in the gym

There are a few things in the gym that you can grin and bear.

You don't mind that some people don't use a sweat towel and perspire over the equipment.

You can just about tolerate that sometimes people don't put the weights back and leave them lying around the gym.

Infact, you understand that, if there are ten types of urine from dirty hands on peanuts in a bar, on a dumbell there are probably 20 types of urine, 30 types of skin particles and probably even a few samples of sticky white man-juice too.

But there is no thing I cannot tolerate in the gym and that's people who fart.

And it's at this point that I have to put up my hand and say "mea culpa".

I've started on the protein again (oh yes, you can see where this is going...) and for those of you who don't know...it can rather excite your stomach.

So I'm running on the treadmill and I can feel something at the back door.

Hot and burnt

You know the feeling - when you're not sure whether it's going to run down your leg or make a noise like a foghorn. Or both.

And in the middle of mid-treadmill, the last thing you want to do is have to stop and use a loo. So you hedge your bets and give yourself a bit of a nudge.

Above the din of the treadmill I hear a squeak. I figure; "right, there's nothing really to be worried about, let's just quietly let one off and who will be the wiser...?"

Now don't be all coy - you've all done it. On the Tube or in the office or in the cinema, you know the score. You open your cheeks a little and let some air go.

I do it. Nothing. No noise, fine.

So you let a little more go and then can't stop yourself. Out rushes baking hot air, silently.

You can feel the inside of your arse-cheeks all hot and burnt. Oh fuck, this means only one thing...

I was running when it happened so I pretended to do some arm stretches to try wave my arms about and disperse the air.

I looked like a gymnast on jelly.

Stench wafts

Then the man, rather cute actually, who was running next to me coughs and waves his hand in front of his face.

And the woman on the other side mutters; "oh, for God's sake..."

If I tell you it stank I would be the understatement of the session. The air around where I was running turned purple.

It made my own eyes water.

I carried on running, pretending that I hadn't noticed anything, though it was quite obvious who had made the smell. I was bright red.

I had to keep thinking; "kittens hacked to death, kittens hacked to death" to try and stop myself giggling from embarrasment.

Because as the stench spread so more people coughed and spluttered.

I know I said that I can tolerate a lot in the gym except people farting but in this case I couldn't help myself.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Woe betide anyone who comes and runs alongside me and drops their guts. I'll name and shame them on this, er...

Gym Day 122: Chest what I needed

2006-09-24T08:40:00.000+01:00

Weight: 86kgs
Cardio warm-up: Distance - 2,20km / Time - 16'11 / Calories - 223
Chest fly machine: 4 sets ending in 4 reps with 25kgs x 2
Chest incline bench: 4 sets ending in 4 reps x 55kgs dumbells each
Tricep on parallel bar: 6 sets of 4 reps each
Tricep pulldowns: 3 sets ending in 4 reps with 22.5kgs

Gym Day 121: Arm doing my best

2006-09-23T22:17:00.000+01:00

Weight: 87kgs
Cardio warm-up: Distance - 2'20 km / Time - 15'54 / Calories - n/a
Individual dumbell bicep curls: 4 sets ending on 6 reps x 30 kgs each
Arms matrix: 4 sets; 2 of 9kgs each, 2 of 10kgs each
Tricep on parallel bar: 6 sets of 4 reps each

Gym Day 121: Start of Bobby's Body 2.0

2006-09-23T21:43:00.000+01:00

It's an inauspicious date but on day 121, 121 days since I started this blog I have decided to move into second gear.

I was really really down on Gym Day 119, when I posted the message about going away for a while.

I go through a depression which I reckon is largely to blame on the seasons.

When I start packing away the summer clothes and the days start getting shorter it affects me a lot.

Wrapped in bubbles

I start to think; shit, another year has passed and what have I accomplished?

I look around at my life and my friends, my job, my money - my general situation.

I look at people I know, who I hardly ever hear from, and wonder if they're really friends or just only phone when they want something.

Autumn is a time when I delete a few numbers from my mobile phone and send a few people off wrapped in little bubbles, into the Universe.

I also had a look at this blog.

I started this as a record of what I was doing, in preparation for my recent holiday.

I was determined to look good and think I managed to do so.

I achieved the goal and of course when you've done that, you start to wonder if it's worth continuing. It's why I threw down a few challenges to other people, partly to motivate myself.

I haven't bothered updating this site and haven't checked any others and I realised that I miss it.

Bigger, better, pumped

So I figure that if I do this, I'm going to do it well.

Since everyone's talking about Web 2.0 - even the BBC have got in on the act - I thought this stage of Bobby's Body Blog would be Bobby's Body 2.0.

I need to set a goal - a major one to keep me motivated. Any suggestions would be very welcome. It ideally needs to be a date oriented goal with a reward, so I can judge how well I've done.

I've been away, had a long think about this whole "body thing" and realised, again, that it is what I want to do. It's what I need to do for myself.

So Bobby's Body's back.

And hopefully better, bigger and more pumped than before.

(And tell me what you think of the logo... It needs a bit of a tweek with the colours etc. but I suddenly realised I could amalgamate two of the things which I enjoy most in life; gym and ABBA. It doesn't get much gayer than that!)

Music on Bobby's Body Blog

2006-09-21T23:17:00.000+01:00

If there's one thing that unites the gays, it's a love of good music.

Well, music and good pectoral definition. So it's only appropriate that marrying the two would be a match made in heaven.

Entries of my exploits in the gym are usually accompanied with a log about a song that got me through the session.

It's exactly that. A tune I listened to and loved, pushing me just that little bit further.

Here's a list of just some of my favourites. That is, music in the gym that just gets me pumped.

Gym Day 136 Song: Bodyrox - Yeah Yeah (D Ramirez Remix)

I think I'm going to start calling that place That Bloody Little Spanish Island. Yes, this is another song from Ibiz... that island. It reminds me of Pacha and those achingly hot, oiled and tanned Spanish boys. Before I went I never thought I could love Electro House, since I got back I can't get enough of it.
This song rocks ass...

Gym Day 135 Song: Fedde Le Grand - Put Your Hands Up For Detroit

This ditty reminds me of all the good times I spent in Ibiza this year. This song was played everywhere, including on the beach where the very hot totty was.
It is THE Ibiza 2006 song. Good times indeed.

Gym Day 130 Song: The Egg - Walking Away

You'll recognise this tune from from a very funky TV advert for a French car. I love it because it reminds me of dancing in Ibiza. Great inspiration to work out to.

Gym Day 51 Song: Tiesto - Traffic.

It's Tiesto. Enough said.

Gym Day 13 Song: Mish Mash feat Lois - Speechless

When I first heard this song I knew it would be huge and I wasn't wrong. It was played to death at Soho Pride, on Ibiza and on my bloody iPod. It's fabulosa!

Gym Day 7 Song: Prince - Sexy MF

The first album I ever bought was the Batman soundtrack by Prince. I remember I used to find him sexy - in a very bizarre way. I remember when I was young getting that hot hormone such when I first saw the cover for Lovesexy. Since then I've always had a soft spot for him.

When Justin Timberlake's new single Sexyback was released I blogged about a bit about my taste in music which you'll find here. It's not all dance music, mind.

All the tracks on my site are from Radio Blog Club, a brilliant website which you'll find here.

Gym Day 117

2006-09-18T21:38:00.000+01:00

Have been really good and have ran for the last three days, including an hour around Hampstead Heath on Sunday morning.
Have been really bad and have got drunk each day for the last days.

Alcohol - good body. Never the twain shall meet. Ever.

Today had a long day at work and only managed about 40 minutes in the gym this evening, which was packed to the rafters. It usually is on a Monday.

Though we soldier on regardless.

Can I share with you something that's made me ... well, depressed isn't the right word. I guess the word would be something like "pessimistic about the gay community..."

It's this...
You're surfing the net, flicking through people's flickr profiles and you see a picture of what you think to be a sexy guy with a marvellous arse. You think to yourself; "gawd... imagine getting a load of that."

You then realise that thanks to Gaydar, for £150 an hour, you can.

His name is apparently "Alex", he "love fuck, like being sucked..." and does not "provide the following: SCAT, BAREBACK (NEVER!!), BLOOD or BROWN (SHIT)".

See all of him on Gaydar here.

Am I just being old-fashioned? Don't you think the best part of a good shag is the build-up to it, not just whipping out 100 bucks? Is it just me or do guys seem sexier when you suspect you may not be able to get them on their backs?

I think I maybe spending too much tie at the gym amongst the straight boys.

The picture in this post came from someone called guystock's flickr profile, which you can see here.

Gym Day 115: Time for a challenge

2006-09-16T19:55:00.000+01:00

Had a 20-minute run this morning to burn off the calories I packed on last night after I got very drunk after work.

Firstly, I want to apologise for the lack of pictures. While I was in Ibiza my phone stopped working. I have taken it to Carphone Warehouse to get it fixed. So I'm not expecting it back for some time. Hint: they're shit.

Anyway...

Right now I want to make a proposal...

Jake (Not Tell a Lie), Accidental Activist and Freestyleguy have all started to tread the path I'm on. That is, the path to the goal of looking great naked.

Tonight I'm having the night off, drinking red wine and eating garlic bread (probably the most fattening food on earth...) but I'm going to throw down a challenge to all three of you. And anyone else who's up to it.

Who's up for posting a picture of themselves on the net? Yeah?
I suggest the following...

We set two deadlines, October 16th and then November 16th.

On October 16 we post a picture of what we look like. We then get one month and on November 16 we have to post another picture of ourselves.

The person who's made the best progress at the gym gets a prize - though I'm not sure what, yet. We'll put it down to a public vote.

I reckon we should have a month to whip ourselves onto the starting line and then for another month it's game on.

I'm going to do it regardless of whether you guys say yes or no... so are you willing to take me on?

Bobby needs competition. Are you up for it?

Memories are made of this...

2006-09-14T20:19:00.000+01:00

When I get depressed I start to think about when I was young.

Correction. When I start to think of when I was young I get depressed. I have those "where has my life gone" moments and I start to think; "is this all my life has come to...?"

When I was young I wanted to do so much. I was so innocent and life was so easy.

I remember when I was young my favourite cartoon on TV was the Thundercats. You were either a Thundercats or He-Man fan, never both.

I remember watching it, while only nine or ten years old and finding the Lion-O character attractive. I had all the Thundercat figurines.

Dalton's hairy chest

Airwolf, Dallas on a Tuesday evening and MacGyver on a Friday night at 7pm.

I remember the two scariest episodes of MacGyver I watched was one where he and "Penny Parker" (Teri Hatcher) investigate a "haunted house" and MacGyver moulds a face from plastecine and the other where Murdoc hunts MacGyver in a theatre.

The walls of my bedroom were posted with pictures of Timothy Dalton, then James Bond.

He had a hairy chest which I remember used to make me excited.

Every afternoon my mum would allow us to watch Loving.

It was a preposterous load of rubbish but it was what everyone at school watched. Well, everyone as in the girls, me and a mate.

In Loving Jonathan was the evil guy who drove a black car and morphed into a snake, Gwyneth had a booze problem and Tricia and Steve eloped to Canada.

Boys in trunks

One of the characters in Loving was Lorna played by Susan Walters who I had a major gay schoolboy crush on.

I mother enjoyed LA Law and my dad never watched anything because he always fell asleep.

Watching the LA Law theme on YouTube again takes me back. Where DID my life go?

No, I didn't spend it all in front of the TV. I haven't even started on the time at Cubs or after-school swimming and...

Actually - just while I mention it - I remember the first time I ever knew that I was sexually attracted to other guys was at swimming practice in junior school. I must have been about eight years old at the time and I remember always being enthralled by the other boys.
Especially in their Speedos.

So, no change there then!

Bobby's Gym FAQ

2006-09-13T19:17:00.000+01:00

All of the questions you were itching to ask but won't find answered in Men's Health...

There's a fucken hot guy in my gym. Is he gay?
Probably. Gays flock to gyms like bees to a honeypot.

If you catch a lingering glance and he's in designer labels, his hair is immaculate and you can hear Madonna blaring from his iPod, chances are he's probably gay.
If Kylie is playing and he's mouthing the words while pumping weights, chances are he's probably gay.

My rule of thumb when it comes to spotting gays in the gym is simple: if they're a guy and they're in the gym, they're gay. Until you learn otherwise.

Should I take steroids?
No. Absolutely not.
Well, do if you want to look like someone who's been inflated by having a bicycle pump shoved up their arse.

Steroids send your libido into maximum overdrive which sounds good but could lead you to doing something you may regret. They make you increasingly aggressive. If you take them orally they can seriously damage your liver and kidney. If you don't take them orally you have to inject yourself which is danergous.
Some steroids can cause premature balding, acne, high blood pressure and sterility.

Gym naturally and be patient. If you're just starting you won't notice a difference overnight but stick with it. Simply, guys who take steroids are not attractive.

Is it okay to whack one off in the showers?
Well not really but let's be honest, it happens in thousands of gyms across the world.

Remember, stroking your stiffy in a communal shower is considered indecent exposure and is, according to the law, anti-social. If you get caught or people complain you could get thrown out of the gym, banned or slapped with an ASBO, if you live in Britain. But try telling that to the thousands of guys who do it in gyms around the world every day.
I know I'm being slightly flippant about this but there is a serious point. Be considerate. People who don't want to see it shouldn't have to.

That said, if you're standing in a shower cubicle and you wink at the hot muscle boy opposite who smiles back and drops his towel to reveal a raging boner - by all means have as much fun as you like. But do it privately.

Are you available to help me train?
I can certainly give you a thorough workout though not in the gym. I am not a certified personal trainer, sorry.

If you have any other questions please ask, I'd love to help where I can.
Either leave a comment or send an e-mail to bobbysbody@gmail.com

Gym Day 110

2006-09-12T22:37:00.000+01:00

Bloody marvellous day at the gym. So good in fact that I went twice.

I did some cardio, back and chest this morning and then this evening, on the way home, went back and had a 20-minute swim.

Swimming after doing a brilliant session of pecs and lats is marvellous because swimming is a great way to build lean muscle mass - especially in your upper body. Which is where your pecs (chest) are.

Weight: 86kgs
Cardio: 10 minutes warm-up, distance: 1,71

I need to get another notebook to start profiling my progress. It's one of the most important of my tips for the gym,which you can read about here.

Quick point...
About going to the gym twice:
I have to say (and I don't follow my own advice...) but going to the gym twice a day doesn't make much difference. It just makes you more exhausted.
I can't stress it enough - the best time for you body to grow, build and develop is when you're not in the gym.

I reckon going twice and doing two sessions of weights could actually do more harm than good. If you, like me are sometimes a little obsessed, split the day.

In the morning do weights (and a protein shake) and in the evening do rigorous cardio (I recommend swimming) and follow it with a meal replacement shake.

And just while we're on the topic of the gym...

A few weeks ago I posted a story about a bloody marvellous incident in the shower with a particularly gorgeous muscular black boy in the shower.
Read about it here.

Funnily enough I'm not alone in my experience. Funny that. Anyway, it seems they're even doing it in tranquil New Zealand!

Josh, this (left) is apparently his profile picture - phwoar!, writes the blog sex&gym and he recently described the experience of his losing his gym "cherry". You can read the steamy account (it happened in the shower, that's a pun), here.

Beware though - the pictures on Josh's blog are a little more er, accommodating than the ones on mine so don't look at it if you're in the office. Or the public library.

Bobby's Boys in Ibiza

2006-09-11T10:11:00.000+01:00

This is a taste of what I spent 8 days ogling over in Ibiza.
They were taken on Las Salinas beach, a few miles from Ibiza Town in the south of the island.
This from the Ibiza Spotlight.com website:
"During the summer months, Las Salinas is the 'in' beach not only for the wealthy and the beautiful people, but also for the party scene. The bikini fashions tend to reveal more than they cover-up, and the sun-worshippers here are more than a match for the Baywatch beauties!"

Three very cute gay boys chat together (above). I know they were gay because the ones in the blue swimming costumes arrived together and kept kissing each other. Check at that perky arse on the left. Phwoar!

This boy (above) was very English, very straight and knew he had a body to die for. Hence the positioning of the trunks which he kept adjusting. I would have so dragged him into the bushes and adjusted his trunks right off.

Another glorious straight boy (above). I kept trying to take him face-on because he had beautiful broad shoulders - the kind you'd want to hang off but he kept staring at the topless woman lying next to me. And hence kept seeing me pointing the camera at him.

Just look at the babyface on this boy (below). There were about twenty of them, all on the beach to promote Gladiatori night at Amnesia. I know he was thinking "if only that guy who's taking my picture would sit on my face NOW!"

Gladiatori night is produced by Made in Italy and if you like sultry-looking dark-haired Mediterranean boys, get this beautiful boy (below). He honestly had the body of a er, gladiator God.

Doesn't this just launch the idea for a thousand porn films about Gladiators, slaves and togas? This photo (below) makes me smile because he looks so beautiful standing there enigmatically on the beach. Well, not really. Look in the picture at the bottom to see the whole scene. Talk about beauty and the beast!

I know we've done this experiment before so let's try it again... the one on the left or the one the right - who would you choose (below)? Which thus proves my point: personality, schmersonality.

Bobby on the Blower

2006-09-10T13:37:00.000+01:00

(Blower is an English slang word for telephone.)

My mobile phone has stopped working. It suddenly decided that it couldn't work unless I inserted a SIM card. Even though there was already one in the phone. Bastard thing.

So I took it into Carphone Warehouse to get it fixed and was hence without a phone.

"I have an old one - which you're welcome to use", said a friend of mine yesterday, which she proceeded to get and give to me.

Advice:

If you ever lend anyone your old mobile phone always make you delete whatever's stored on it.

It would be dereliction of duty were I not to share...

Text message: 04/06/06 at 18.15
Just turned my phoned on
after getting fucked on coke
last night. You okay?

Tee hee... Remember these are what the straights go on about...

Text message: 13.05.06 at 15.43
hey babe. Hope ur well...
I feel rough as fuck!!
Just want to lay in bed with u.xxx

Aww sweet....straight boys can be really sweet...

Text message: 13.05.06 at 15.56
Getting hard at the thought
of it...would love to shoot
another hot sticky
load inside you now!!xxx

What!?

Text message: 16.02.06 at 21:30
Hey baby...Looking forward to
sliding my hard cock insiide
u while ur sexy body is
draped over that
soft leather sofa.xxx

Oh Lord!

Text message: 07.02.06 at 14:57
I want to slide down between
your legs, pull your knickers
2 one side and lick
your pussy!!x

Text message 07.02.06 at 19.02
Hey! We've run out of milk
please pick sum up on way home.

Doesn't that feel like a bucket of cold water being poured all over you!?

More of Bobby's Body Tips

2006-09-10T12:14:00.000+01:00

A while ago I shared some of my ideas about the best time to go to the gym, what you should eat before going and what to listen to while working out.
Read about them here.

Along the way, as I learn a bit more, so I'll share. As always, if you have any better advice please let me know.

Taking a break
As you may know, I've just spent nearly two weeks away and had not seen the inside of a gym for about that time. When I started again it was like breaking through the glass ceiling, onto the next level.
So don't be afraid to take time out - one day off or even a week off. When you start again you really feel amazing, rejuvenated and strong. It really is worth it.

Activity in the gym
Going to the gym can be a lot like sex. (Isn't that the most overused analogy in the world?)
If you're copping off with the same person all the time and all they ever wanted to do was blow you, it would get very very dull.
Er..
What I mean to say is - don't do the same thing all the time. Do arms one day, another day legs. One day, if you can, swim. Another day just do 30 minutes of cardio. But whatever you do, set yourself a goal and make sure that you push yourself to the limit of whatever that activity is.

Drinking water
There are a few simple rules. If you weigh more at the end of the workout then at the beginning, you've drunk too much water.
Don't bother with energy drinks (they don't work and are fattening) or water bottles (they're a nuisance).
I reckon occasional walk to the water fountain really helps. Especially when you've got one last set to do and you need to take a quick break.
Also - if you have a bottle with you it really ties you to where you're exercising. Walking to the cooler provides a marvellous opportunity to check out any potential man-talent.

Cruising in the gym
While you're walking to the water fountain and you spot hot man-talent don't do as I do when he introduces himself. That is: stumble over your words, look around and generally skulk away nervously. Instead shake hands, smile and look into his eyes. Gently come closer into him and smell his hot sweaty man-smell. As you tenderly touch his neck and pull him into you let him gently lift your shirt and move his hands onto your firm pecs as he lovingly...
[I think that's quite enough "tips for the gym". Ed.]

Bobby's Body Blog: A Disclaimer

2006-09-10T11:07:00.000+01:00

I really didn't want to make this entry but I think I should...

I write about my exploits at the gym on my mission to the body beautiful mostly because I want to keep my own journal. I am a terrible sentimentalist so I enjoy looking back at what I did and how far I've come.

Since it's on the net other people can have a look and they do.

Perhaps along the way I may inspire others to hit the gym and take up their own mission. I really think that's bloody marvellous and wish you all the best of luck.

But as with anything there's always one or two chancers. So I feel I really should say the following...

In a gym, as you know with any exercise, you can hurt yourself. There are heavy weights and there are strains placed on your body which can be dangerous.
Always make sure you know what you're doing. If you are ill or feel uncomfortable while you're gymming - stop.

Before you start an exercise programme always make sure you consult a doctor. Do not starve yourself. Do not take pills or substances which you don't know anything about. Read as much as possible.

I am not a doctor or medical advisor. What I say is my opinion and should never be considered to be professional advice.

Everything I write is for your information, edification and delight. It should never be treated as a substitute for the medical advice of your own doctor or any other health care professional.

Bobby's Boys Pt 4

2006-09-09T13:44:00.000+01:00

It's the look on his face. It just says "come and get a load of what's under this vest!"
If you were to start snogging him would you lift his vest off first or put your hands down the Calvins and grab his ass?
Decisions, decisions...

Gym Day 107: Back In The Saddle

2006-09-08T21:27:00.000+01:00

Returned to the gym for the first time in two weeks and it was good to be back.

Do you remember when they launched the new Mini the tagline in the adverts was "Have a Mini Adventure". Yes?

Well that's what gym seems to have suddenly turned into. I'll tell you why in a moment but first...

Friday, September 8 2006
Weight: 86kgs (maybe all dancing in Ibiza cancelled out all the junk food I ate)
Cardio: 17 minutes, 2,30 distance
Concentrated on my back and arms.
I reckon my back is one of my strong points so here, just to prove it, is another shameless show of tanline and ass-crack.

Anyway - back to the gym.

So I was doing arms - sitting down on the bench concentrating on biceps. And this ka-ewt guy turns to me and says; "have you ever tried doing Matrix Arms?"

I was like: "oh yeah... might do them now, since you suggested it."

Matrix Arms is a fabulous exercise to build up your arms and with Bobby's Handy Guide I'll show you how...

Start by holding two dumbells (I do it with 12kgs) in either hand at right angles, like so:

Do 7 reps pulling both dumbells up like thus:

Then, without stopping, do 7 reps starting from here:

And pulling the dumbells to here:

Finally, again without stopping, do 7 reps starting from here:

And pulling the dumbells to here. Repeat that all four times and feel the burn!

Quick disclaimer: Those pink dumbells do not belong to me, they are my housemates who I don't think has picked them up in at least a year...

Anyway - back to the cute guy.

His accent was distinctive so I asked him where he was from and he said South Africa. And I said I lived in Cape Town and ohmygod... he introduced himself and I thought "get this! is he coming onto me or what...?!"

So I, of course, did what every nervous gayer does in the gym when a guy introduces themselves. I stumbled my words, tried to avoid eye contact and slinked away. Only to then kick myself for not having said anything more..."
Fuck. This is becoming a habit.

But the adventure continues.

I finish off and head for the showers and who the hell do you think I see lathering up?

Oh yes...oh God - it's Mr Muscle Wank-off himself. The man with the cock like a rock. Find out about him here.

I think we'll call him Winifred. For a "Who's Who" click here.

Anyway, I quickly realised that we were never going to have a repeat performance because there were maintenance men fixing the showers.

(Have you ever had to stand naked in the shower while middle-aged overweight guys in blue overalls stand around with their toolboxes and cups of tea?!)

Needless to say I wasn't there for long.

Back in the change-room and who do you think emerges from the shower with his right locker next to mine?
Oh god...is this going to uncomfortable or what.

I scarcely glance at Winifred who it seems is also thinking what I'm thinking. That is: "oh god this feels really odd..."

Next thing, a guy wanders in and plonks his bag down. He knows Winifred because they swap pleasantries about work and the weather. Then there's a pause.

And Man Who Plonked Bag Down drops the bombshell...

"How's the missus?", he says.

I nearly choked. My eyes just about shot out of their sockets. Oh-my-good-God. He's got a girlfriend or he's married! Oh. fuck.

I reckon there are two possible explanations.

1/ Either he's in the closet.

Or

2/ I managed. To get. A six-foot. Hulking great. Six-packed. Built-like-a-brick-shit-house black man turned on and tossed off.
Again: I got a hot straight boy to spring a boner and whack one off for me!

I guess he can't be that straight, but how fucking hot is that?
(Yes, fucking nuclear, actually...)

If anyone happens to find a blog called "The Adventures Of A Beautiful Black Muscle Man Who Tosses Off In The Gym Showers For A Turn On" please let me know asap.

Oh and just so that you know, the missus was "fine, thanks..".

Mister Sandman...

2006-09-07T23:15:00.000+01:00

In Ibiza you don't sleep. And you don't eat properly. And you don't really do things like brush your teeth.

Well you do brush your teeth but not twice a day. And you eat crisps a lot. And other ghastly junk food (like processed cheese).

In the 8 days I was there I had no fruit, one salad and about a vat of vodka with orange juice.

At night you get ready. By 1am you're in the club. You leave at 7am-ish. You get home and lie by the pool. You pass out.

Three hours later it's midday, you get up and go to the beach. You get home from the beach, smoke, drink, get ready and repeat.
For eight days.

Tonight I have had the biggest, fattest healthiest fuck-off salad in the world. I have brushed my teeth twice.
And I'm now going to flop down to sleep.

Imagine having Freddie Ljunberg dress you in his Calvins.

It doesn't even come close to turning me on as much as this does...

PS. Freddie Ljunberg if you're reading this I'm lying. Of course. Obviously. You can wear my Calvins anyday.

Bobby's Back from Ibiza!

2006-09-07T21:55:00.000+01:00

If I see one more olive-skinned, sultry-eyed, dark-haired Spanish boy with the body of a Greek god, I think I'm going to scream. I have spent the last 8 days on bloody libido overdrive.

On an hourly basis I was going off quietly just to whack one off, so to defuse the loaded weapon I kept finding in my Speedo!

The worst was on the day we went to Las Salinas - the beach where the beautiful people hang out.

Put it this way.
How the hell can you expect to lie quietly on a beach when a pack of these wander through...

They're the Matinee Boys from Space - a club where the doormen are grown. Dark-haired hulking muscle boys.

Have you ever been to Ibiza? It was my first time. It was as awful as it was wonderful. While the clubs were brilliant (except Pacha), I just thought everything else was just a little too trashy. San Antonio was what I imagine hell would be like.

Drunk, overweight and sunburnt British women in too much make-up and not enough lycra standing on the beach watching the sun go down with a can of beer and flicking their cigarettes in the ocean.

Though now I've been, seen it and done it. Maybe it's Mykonos next time. Anyone with any advice?

However - I did love it because it's given me a new impetus to get back into the gym.

There was an extraordinary amount of body on display and a lot of it absolutely stunning.
And I want one too.

Friends who I went with stayed on and still have the camera out there so when they get back I hope to share some pictures of some of the totty we spotted. I can't wait to show you.

Come to think of it - there has been one amazing thing that's come out of these 8 days away.

Look at those fucking tan lines, mate!

Anyway.

Tomorrow it's back to the gym. We're going bigger, harder and faster. I can't wait.

In San Antonio. Don´t ask.

2006-09-06T19:52:00.000+01:00

Hola from Eivissa!

I have seen some of the hottest men in the world. Ohmygod.

Gotta run...

Gym Day 97: Now Is The Hour

2006-08-30T00:13:00.000+01:00

In a little over two hours a cab is coming which will pick me and my two housemates up and whisk us to Stansted airport.

By the time you read this I will either be in the air or on the tarmac at Ibiza.

I can't wait to tell you about it when I get back.

Take the time to look around my blog - because when I get back we move it into the second gear and I hope you'll join me for the ride.

Onwards and upwards, always.

I have worked hard to get where I am physically right now. I've been in the gym, the tanner, had it all waxed off (fuck me, my chest hurts) and buffed myself within an inch of what I was able to.

This is what I was looking forward to so hopefully a few demons will be slain.

See you when I get back, Thursday Sept 7th.

x x x Bob.

Bobby's Consumer Advice

2006-08-29T10:27:00.000+01:00

Part 1 in a very rare series of consumer advice brought to you by me.

Advice: Do not fly easyJet. They're shit.

As you may have read, I am flying to Ibiza for a week at 4am tomorrow morning. Against my better judgement I am flying out with friends on queasyJet.

It is the first time I have ever used the airline - the first time I have even used a budget airline. It's been British Airways all the way (even though they're so difficult to love sometimes).

However, I want to change the time of my return flight. When you log onto the easyjet site it says you need to phone the 0900 booking number.

When you phone the 0900 booking number (at more than £1 a minute), it says; "following the trans-atlantic plot etc. we're experiencing high call volumes, it's best to check on the net...".

You sit for 5 minutes on hold waiting for someone to answer while some silly woman tells you about easyCinema and easyPizza. That means I've spent £5 to be advertised to.

I haven't even got onto one of their aircraft and they've already pissed me off. Apparently the real hell of easyJet starts when you get to the airport. I'm not even in a cab on the way there and already I swear I'll never use them again.

British Airways I'm sorry and really regret forsaking you.
I know you piss me off sometimes but it's the virtual tickets, service and Club World that I love. It's the ease with which you can book flights on ba.com. It's that you can assign your seat and check in while you're in the bath.
I'll never leave you again!

That's my girl!

Picture taken from airliners.net. The best website if you're looking for fantastic pictures of beautiful aircraft.

More progress in pictures

2006-08-26T22:28:00.000+01:00

There are two things I should point out.
The first is that I haven't been to gym today, the second is that the lighting is too bright and it's flushed out any shadows (definition).

But this is what I look like - three days before I jet off to Ibiza.

It's been nearly three months since I started this blog which was and is, basically just what it says on the tin - "my mission to go from a body embarrasment to the Body Beautiful."

I have been at it for only three months. But where I am right now, I am happy and proud.

I don't look like the men in the pictures on my blog - but I look more like them now than I did three months ago.

On Tuesday I'm going to get everything waxed off which I hope will sharpen my physique.
I hope to take some pictures then - but for the moment I want to share with you what I look like right now. Physically it's the best I've ever looked.

If you're on the same mission as I am I hope it provides some inspiration.

I ain't yet an Adonis but I'm working hard towards getting there. I hope you can spot the difference.

When I get back from Ibiza it'll be harder, faster, more. So I hope you'll be with me at every stage.

Compared to what I looked like in the beginning...

Finally... there's only one thing left to do... and that's propose a toast.

Thanks for being there, for the encourgement and the kind words.
Here's to the next three months and the next three months after that.

See you at the gym. Cheers!

Bobby's Boys Pt 3

2006-08-26T20:28:00.000+01:00

What else is there to say about this picture.
Other than; imagine your hand, rising up from the bottom and giving that ample package a gentle tickle. Only to watch it grow...

Down on my knees...

2006-08-25T20:18:00.000+01:00

Please forgive me. For I have SO sinned.

I swore that I would never ever wank in the showers at the gym. I honestly said to myself I would never do it.
It's a public gym for god's sake - so never.

Er, never say never.

So I'm showering and I notice a very large, muscular black man standing in the stall opposite. I would say he was middle twenties but build like a brick shithouse.
Big. Huge shoulders, big chest - fuck me. Hot.

He keeps getting the soap and washing his nether region and I think; "hmm... he's washed there about five times..."

So I carry on and the next minute I see him glancing at me.
He turns and his cock has gone from flaccid to semi hard.

I can only describe it as being like a bolt of lightning that surged through my body. In a slightly chilly shower stall I went from being warm under the water to scorching. My cock immediately expands about 5 inches in as many seconds.

I look again and he's toweling himself off. And oh my gosh. Oh. My God.
Oh. Fuck. Me. You. Sonovabitch.

I look again and he's rubbing the towel over his crotch. By now I am having difficultly taking my eyes off him. Imagine a rack of 6-ft black muscle dripping wet and rubbing down with a white towel.

Suddenly he lets it falls away and there he's stood - his cock pointing like a banana - right up into the air. I gulped. And ohmyfuck. I was short of breath. This great hulk of hot black muscle (with a very cute face) was standing in front of me, smiling with a glint in his eye and his cock like as hard as the branch of an oak tree.

I turned around with my back towards him and literally touched my myself and instantly exploded all over the cubicle. I haven't done that for a very long time. In fact it's been ages since I've been so hot and charged that it takes a few strokes and I've completely shot one off.

My left leg bent, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I squinted as I finally whacked it out. I reckon it nearly hit the ceiling.

Then I turned back around he's still stood there - toweling off his raging rock. I couldn't take anymore. I could feel my heart thumping. I just didn't know what to do.
So I smiled fumbled, toweled too and left promptly.

Leaving the changing room after getting dressed I caught his eye on the way out and smiled. He winked back.

It's given me wank ammunition for the next twenty years. It's one small reason why I am now just going die just that little bit happier.

I wish I could have snapped a photo but I wasn't brave enough. Though it looked something like this...

Bobby's Boys Pt 2

2006-08-21T23:31:00.000+01:00

Here's another shameless display of hot man-flesh purely designed to stimulate and tease you.

His name is allegedly Josh Ohl. Though I cannot confirm the rumour that Ohl is short for "Ohlord that's goddam sexy".

So come on lads - it's not only white-van-men who read the Sun who're allowed to do this. So all together now. Phwoooooaaar!

And just to clarify - I certainly didn't crop the picture.
Find more pics of Josh at the website AllAmericanGuys.com.

Boys on the make

2006-08-21T22:19:00.001+01:00

J in London who writes The TouchLine blog has started on his mission at the gym.

Francois, who's in Canada, has also written to say that he's also on the mission for a body-beautiful.

They deserve a big up. Good luck guys. I say many times; we're in this together so let's keep in touch.

I've tried to explain at length why I want to look great naked - and I can't speak for anyone else - but I make my case thus...

You're at the beach, or in a club or at gay pride or in the gym and you see two boys. Who would you love to be able to talk to first?

This guy:

Or this guy:

What we've known all along and has been confirmed by "speed dating" is that within 30 seconds of meeting someone you're either tuned in or turned off.

So I rest my case.

And besides, when I'm 60 and settled down with a partner, a Volvo and the dogs, I don't want to be at the beach, or in a club or at gay pride or the gym and think; "I wish I'd made the effort when I was younger...".

The two photos on this page were used from Chris Jepson's website. He's a photographer in London who's brilliant pictures provide a tantalising glimpse into the city's gay nightlife.

Gym Day 89: Abs up!

2006-08-21T18:11:00.000+01:00

With a just a week to go before I get on a jet and fly to Ibiza - I am in the final stretch of my first goal of this blog.

That is: to dance at La Troya at Space without a vest on, looking and feeling fucken-A.

I'm focusing on arms and now getting ripped. Gym is now cardio and high reps with medium weights. I need to get my stomach taut and lean.

Here are my tips for how to exercise your stomach throughout the gym session:

1/ Keep your stomach flexed, and tight at all times. That doesn't mean suck it in but keep it tensed. Warming up by running while tensing your abs is especially effective. It feels great.

2/ After warming up I do my main ab exercises, while I still have the energy and while my heart rate is up. I've found leaving abs to the end of the session means they never get done because you're always too tired and you think "oh, screw it - I'll do them tomorrow..."

3/ Between exercises go over to the mat area, do 50 sit-ups (20, 20 and then 10), stretch and then carry on with what else you were doing.

Finally and most importantly - exercise your abs and NOT your lower back. Always make sure your stomach is taking the strain and not your lower back.
Keep your back flat and don't arch it.

But don't just let me tell you about abs!

The lovely Josh has some advice on sixpacknow.com. Click here to perv over his tummy er, read his advice.

Bobby's Boys Pt 1

2006-08-20T23:07:00.000+01:00

What would a blog about the gym be without shameless examples of prime flesh on display?

Don't answer because I've got the solution - Bobby's Boys!

These are the boys who make my throat go dry. They are the boys that inspire me to go to gym. They are the boys who can come and tread my mill any time of the day or night.

Look at those arms. And that stomach! Imagine being locked in a log cabin high in the Rockys with that to keep you company.
I'm need to go and calm myself down.
Keep checking back to see more of Bobby's Boys!

Above photo from AllAmericanGuys.com

Three things...

2006-08-20T20:13:00.000+01:00

Iain Dale is a political commentator, blogger and a gay. So we have time for him.

He's recently completed a "Meme of 3" which, according to him is "buzzing around the blogosphere at the moment."

Even though I've just completed one I couldn't resist another go.

BOBBY'S MEME OF THREE

1... Things that scare me
Somehow ending up on the front page of the News of the World
Reptiles
Fanaticism

2.…People who make me laugh
Kath & Kim (they count as one...)
Catherine Tate
Joan Rivers

3...Things I hate the most
When people lie to me because they think I'm stupid
When you're given food that's too hot to eat
People who stand in doorways and chat

4...Things I don't understand
Why people hate
Why anyone would want to hurt animals
Advanced calculus

5...Things I'm doing right now
Listening to Oh My Gosh by Basement Jaxx
Trying to work out why I never have enough money
Adjusting the chair because my back's sore

6...Things I want to do before I die
Do a handbrake turn in a Lamborghini
Write a book
Look good naked

7... Things I can do
Play the piano
Swear profusely
A handbrake turn

8... Ways to describe my personality
Loud
Outspoken
Tend to always find the funny side - sometimes to the detriment of other people's feelings

9... Things I can't do
A back flip
Work out the pricing structure of the British rail system
Walk down Oxford Street without muttering "oh for fuck's sake..." at least once to someone who stops in the middle of the pavement or can't walk in a straight line

10...Things I think you should listen to
Ken Livingstone's statement to the press after the bombings in London on July 7
Anything read by Joanna Lumley
Beethoven's 9th

11...Things you should never listen to
People who say "I'm not a racist but..."
Anyone trying to sell you something who says they have your interests at heart
Good music that's not loud enough

12...Things I'd like to learn
Where to find the hottest most beautiful man in the world who will ravage me like a tossed salad
How to appreciate good architecture
HTML

13...Favorite foods
Sushi
Seafood
Mum's spaghetti bolognaise

14...Beverages I drink regularly
Water (3 litres a day)
Water with Berocca
Innocent smoothies - which perhaps this explains why I never have enough money

15...Shows I watched as a kid
Thundercats
Gummi Bears (bouncing here and there and everywhere..)
Care Bears

16...People I'm tagging (to do this meme)
Gay Boy In London
Jake/"Not Tell A Lie"
czechOUT

Bobby's Tips Towards a Better Body

2006-08-20T17:55:00.000+01:00

As you will see from my pictures - my exploits in the gym are proving mildly beneficial.

While I am certainly no expert there are a few things I have learnt along the way and I thought I would share them with you. Take the ones you think will help and if you have any better advice I'd love to hear from you.

We're in this together!

The best time
I reckon the best time to go to the gym is in the morning. I cannot stress how good it feels to get to work, knowing that you've already achieved the goals you set yourself. During the long, cold and dark winter it can be so difficult to drag yourself out of bed but it is worth it. The gym isn't crowded, you're not exhausted (like you tend to be after work) and in the evenings, when you get home, you can relax and put your feet up.

Eating prior to gymming
If you decide to go in the morning always make sure you eat something.
The Body For Life programme says you should have a few glasses of water and that's it. I reckon that can't be good for you. Your blood sugar levels drop and you end up feeling tired, lethargic and depressed. In the mornings, 40 minutes before I'm due to hit the treadmill, I have a slice of brown bread toasted with some butter. It works for me.

Keeping a notebook
Ever since I started to take a notebook to gym I have noticed I do twice as much.
When I am really keen I plan what exercises I'm going to do. It stops you wandering about aimlessly. Keeping a log of what you do means you're constantly trying to better the previous session. If you did pec-flys on Monday and the heaviest you did was 60kgs per hand on 4 reps, when you come to do them again on Thursday you know that this time you must hit 65kgs on 4 reps.
Get a notebook and a pen and write down everything you do. Turn back to previous sessions and do them again - bigger, better and stronger. It works.

Music in the gym
I am lost without my iPod when working out but they can be a distraction. I am a washed-up old house fan so it's great to pump and boogie. But music can be a distraction. I've found that music with obvious lyrics puts me off. I know that sounds ridiculous but you do end up singing to the music and forgetting what your actually supposed to be doing.
If you're into trace or progressive house music, like me, I reckon it's perfect music to pump to.
When I'm having a fabulous session and want to go mental I put this song on and blast it as loud as the headphones will go.

If you have any please let me know.

Tips Archive
Click here to read more of my tips towards a better body, posted on Sept 10 2006.

Random question meme

2006-08-19T22:31:00.000+01:00

Surfing blogs is so much fun, especially when you can steal stuff from, sorry - be inspired by other blogs.
Here is a meme* from Grammar Puss.

Have you had sex in the past 24 hours? Funnily enough I have!
Are you gay? Pretty much.
Do you have hairy legs? Yes.
Do you smoke anything? I guess I'm a "social smoker" which means all I ever hear people saying to me is; "why don't you buy your own fucking cigarettes you cheapskate."
Do you like monkeys? I get nervous around them.
How many fillings do you have? One. I think.
Would you rather swim in the ocean or a lake? Neither. I prefer a swimming pool.
Have you ever licked one of those square batteries? Yes.
Have you ever read the Bible? When I was a child I was forced to, every Sunday morning. If you're easily offended look away now... but the best thing I ever saw someone do with a Bible was snort a line of cocaine off it. Deliciously debaucherous.
Did you ever go to Sunday School? See above.
Do you wear a lot of black? Yes. It hides a lot.
Did you ever bring a weapon to school? Nope.
Have you ever hugged a tree? No.
Do you know what a sphincter actually is? It's a little thing that you get stuck in your finger when you play with wood?
Describe your hair? Light brown and receding. Great for the self esteem
Are you a wildbeast? Only when I need to be ;-)
Do you like to have fun? Who doesn't?
Do you like drama? I walk away from it
Have you ever taken a bong hit? Yes, but dope makes me shiver and want to throw up.
Do you like mayonnaise? No.
Are you afraid to die? No.
Do you like playing in leaves? Er... what do you call a guy in a pile of leaves with no arms and no legs? Russell.
Have you ever peed your pants as an adult? Not into watersports.
Have you ever thrown up on somebody as an adult? No, but I did once sneeze over someone on the Tube which was extremely embarrassing.
Are you an adult? Sometimes I don't behave like one.
Ever won a spelling bee? Yeah - I admit that there's one thing that pisses me off and that's people who can't spell properly.
Do you ever eat because your depressed? Have you actually read my blog?!
Are you a television addict? I can't bare it.
Do you think OJ was guilty? Yeah.
Do you enjoy spending time with your mother? Yeah we get on well and have a lot in common. I love my mum to bits which is funny because a lot of the problems I've suffered in my 28 short years has been as a direct result of my mother.
Have you ever had sex in a hot tub? God, that's a fucking gear change - from mums to sex in a hot tub! Yes, I have had sex in a hot tub. I have watched over people have sex in a hot tub and I've had sex in a hot tub while other people have watched me. Not all at the same time, mind. (Two words: 'gay' and 'bathhouse'.)
On a swing? Not yet
Do you like Elvis? When he was young he was very very sexy.
Do you enjoy watching animals “do it” on the Discovery channel? Not at all.
Ever been hit on at a zoo? The last time I went to the zoo was as a child so thankfully the answer is no.
Have you ever had sex with a total stranger? My previous answer about having sex in a hot tub should give you a clue as to what the answer to this question is likely to be.
Do you enjoy the calming effects of turkeys? The what?
Does your mom think someone is hot? I don't want to know if she does. And why are you going on about mothers? Weirdo.
Are you a sugar freak? No.
Ever been arrested? No.
Ever commit a crime and get away with it? No and I have the speeding fines to prove it. One of the girls I live with steals toilet paper because she refuses to buy it. She's been doing it for years and has never been caught. It's a long story.
Do you like orange juice? It's nice first thing in the morning. Though I prefer Innocent smoothies.
What sign are you? Gemini
Ever do the party boy dance in front of the elderly? I don't have a clue what you mean so it'll have to be no.
Where do you wish you were right now? Having sex with a very hot gentleman.
Did you enjoy this? I got to the end of it which means it didn't suck.

* = a meme is an idea that is shared and passed from blog to blog, like a question posted in one blog and answered in many other blogs

Gym Day 87: Onwards and upwards

2006-08-19T20:58:00.000+01:00

First proper session of gym for four days and after being ill.

Ran for 15 minutes to try and burn off the calories gained during a heavy session of drinking the night before.

We're in the final run-up to the first event which inspired this blog. In February a friend decided she wanted to go to Ibiza. I decided then that I was not going to go unless I looked and felt confident to dance in a club with my top off.

Sometimes this blog may go slightly off topic but prinicpally it's a log for me to describe how I'll get from becoming the fat one in the corner of the club to the one dancing in the spotlight.

There are a number of goals along the way, so that I have objectives to conquer before reaching the final goal.

I have finally found a picture of what I want to look like. I've cropped it and it's going to become my profile picture.

It's what I'm working towards and what I aspire to. As you can see by my picture progress there's still a long way to go.

Most importantly I hope you'll stick with me along the way - and if anything - if you're looking to do the same thing, I hope I can at least provide some inspiration.

See you at the gym!

Friday night soaked

2006-08-19T19:12:00.000+01:00

After the incident of watching a very cute boy take a load from an unattractive man I realised there was nothing better to do than meet friends for a session of aggressive drinking.

So it was to the Green in Islington which is fast becoming a bit of a regular drinking haunt.

It was quite full though not with any devastating talent which doesn't matter too much.

After necking double G&Ts anything can become attractive.

Lovely Lucinda was behind the bar which made it even more interesting. When I went to order another consignment of G&Ts he served me and at first didn't recognise me. When he clicked a definite cooling descended so I just smiled, paid and moved off. I don't remember ever promising that I would phone him?!

He's still very cute and very very gorgeous.

Here he is (below) doing the second-best thing he does: pouring a drink. Of course I could hardly disclose what he does best, so I will.

He's one of the best kissers I've met.

Lucinda at work.

Hornometer

2006-08-19T18:31:00.000+01:00

I mentioned it in the previous post and thought I should explain.

I have decided to introduce a hornometer to my site.
It's a little device I have invented which shows my current lust-level.

Like all gay men and most men I generally run pretty heavily which means at any one time, I am probably in the mood for a little slap and tickle.

Come on! Don't deny it - if the situation presented itself right this moment - with the right person - you SO would.

The gradings on the hornometer are similar to the classifications designed by the intelligence services to illustrate the level of terrorist threat facing the United Kingdom.

No Risk means I'm probably dead. Or at least very sick.

Moderate risk is where I usually run at. It means I'm not desperate to get one over but if things hot up too much I may have to go off somewhere quietly and toss one off to calm down.

Severe risk means danger. I start contemplating logging onto Gaydar or a night out on the tiles with the express aim of a shag. This level of risk is usually confirmed after you've bashed one out and you're still in the mood for more.

Critical risk is the highest state of alert. At this stage I am cruising trees and stationary objects. My hands are usually shaking, my palms sweaty and my leg starts shaking involuntarily.
Having sex on the kitchen floor with the Tesco bags unpacked on the counter and the front door and car boot still open usually happens in this state.
Adults in this state are usually best avoided unless you're happy to be taken like a harbour wall during a violent storm.

There's no accounting for taste

2006-08-19T18:20:00.000+01:00

Was well enough to go to the gym so figured I was well enough to look around for a shag.

I have an issue.
Like women, my hormones seem to be on some sort of cycle. There are times in the month when I can go for days and not even think about sex.

There are other times when quite literally I am ready to cruise a tree. I get like a dog in need of a table leg.

It all started on Tuesday while I was sick. So what am I supposed to do? What could I do?

Come Friday I felt better - but my horno-meter was revving at critical.

When it's critical there's nothing that can be done, other than to sort things out.

I haven't ever been to the Portsea place sauna in Marble Arch so decided to check it out. It's on Portsea Road near Connaught Square where Tony Blair's bought a house!

The venue is the size of a shoebox with four cabins, a TV "lounge" with porn films on, a sauna, a steam room and a shower area behind glass (which is a little sexy).

For £13 I was disappointed because the talent seemed pretty rubbish and the place stank of bodily fluids.

I managed to find most of the okay talent all together in a cabin. They were pretty happy to welcome me to the group which was kind of them.

I have to admit in situations like that I do get a little neurotic. I keep the towel over my shoulder, I don't kiss and let others take the lead. Anything more than getting sucked-off and I make my excuses and leave. I wouldn't be surprised if they thought I was just another straight boy looking for a blow job.

I find the main enjoyment in those situations is visual. Watching five other guys getting it on is pretty hot - even if they're not so attractive you can't help but be turned on by watching a group shag.

Of course things began to turn a little heavy (the condoms came out) and so I decided to leave.

Hu-llo!

On the way back to the shower a very cute boy appeared. Very cute indeed. He couldn't have been more than 25 years old, had floppy hair and a smooth tanned body with a very cute arse. Phwoar!
I was tempted to ask; "what's a boy like you doing in a place like this?!"

He didn't spot me so I went and had a shower and re-toweled and headed back towards the sauna. Sat around for a bit and couldn't see him. Went back to the showers. Nope not there. This place is tiny so the chance of loosing someone is pretty slim. Then I spot him!

He's coming out of the steam room, following a very very tall middle-aged gentleman with a hairy back and who I could have sworn was wearing make-up. I don't think he was attractive in the slightest!

Then comes that feeling that a million gays around the world must feel every hour of every day - they paired off into a cabin. Your heart sinks.

"What!?", I though - "he's going to get it off with him!!" I was genuinely shocked.

I waited a few minutes and then went and peaked through the glass window on the door - which had been covered with a piece of paper. One of the corners had been torn off so you could see what they were doing.

El Hot Boy was on his knees and lanky tall unattractive man was lying back on the bench while El Hot Boy was sucking him off. Lanky man had El Hoy Boy's head in his hands and was thrusting his face back and forth! It is an image that will stick with me for a long time.

It was disappointing, disheartening but very very sexy - all at the same time.

There seemed only one positive feature about Lanky Ugly Man and that was that he had an enormous penis.

I had had my fun so I wasn't too irritated - and watching El Hot Boy with his mouth fully stuffed was pleasure personified and the image will stick with me for a long time.

What on earth could he have found attractive with that guy? It made me realise that there's certainly no accounting for taste.

(As I type this it's just dawned on me... perhaps El Hot Boy was rent..? Could that explain his seemingly unusual taste for minging-men?)

Hell...

2006-08-19T16:19:00.000+01:00

... adequately describes what it's been like since Monday.

On Sunday I told you I was exhausted from working too much. So of course being tired and still with a mountain of work to still do I got sick.

Tuesday - felt like shit - no gym.
Wednesday - felt like complete and utter shit - no gym.
Thursday - felt a bit better - still no gym.
Friday - fine enough to go to gym for the first time.

I have to admit that being ill has been a blessing in disguise. It's meant I've lost some weight and it's stopped me from going to gym.

The rest has actually been very beneficial, I would recommend it.

Just try and do it voluntarily and not because you've made yourself ill.

RIP iPod

2006-08-14T20:49:00.000+01:00

After nearly two years of sterling service my iPod has finally packed up.

I am a little irritated because I went into the Apple shop on Regent Street and the shop-man was like "yeah, it's basically a hard drive and they don't last forever" etc.

They have no guarantee, you can't really fix them and when they go kaput - that's it.
"Yeah, but it means I have to load all the bloody songs onto a new one..."
"But we always recommend you back-up your iPod.."
"Oh piss off with your silly rules..."

Well I didn't tell him to piss off but I wanted to.

I dropped the iPod countless times. It has been totally erased twice. It has been to Cannes, Antibes, Monaco, Cape Town, Exeter, Brighton and on the Jubilee Line about as much as I have.

It's been the soundtrack for countless sessions and got me through long hard slogs.

I'll miss the tunes at the gym for the time being but it'll be replaced. Thanks iPod Number 1.

I wish I could tell you what the most played songs on it were but when you try and turn it on it shows a file graphic and when you plug it into the computer it freezes iTunes.
It will now be silent forever.

All I have to do now is put all these bloody CDs onto a new iPod.

Gym Day 82: Getting bigger...

2006-08-14T18:51:00.000+01:00

I think you'll agree that I have become big enough - now have to start doing more to tone up and get more ripped and defined.

Getting ripped comes from more cardio (please no...) and laying off the carbs after 6pm. The only building I need to do is my arms which I still think need a lot of work.

I am off to Ibiza in two weeks' time and am quite satisfied with how I am looking. They only thing I do wish was a little more clear was the photos.

But again, when you compare what I looked like to where I am now - in two and a half months - I think I've done okay.

To tired to think...

2006-08-13T22:54:00.000+01:00

Work has been unbeliveably busy over the last few days and I haven't stopped.

The gym has been neglected, I have neglected myself and hence I am feeling like shit.

I am going to chuck a sickie tomorrow and plan to spend the whole day in bed to try and fight off the cold I can feel coming on.

The only time I get sick is when I exhaust myself by doing too much.

A normal service will resume once I have had a good night's sleep. By a good night's sleep, I mean more than 4 hours - which has been the case since Wednesday.

Yours in total fatigue.

Who's who on Bobby's Blog

2006-08-12T08:54:00.000+01:00

Reading blogs can be a confusing thing - especially when bloggers start using initials to explain who those around them are. It can become very confusing.

So, to avoid any displeasure I have decided to replace all boys' names with old-fashioned Victorian English women's names. For example Jim will become Annabel.

Judging by what name a boy gets, so I reckon you'll be able to guess what I think about them.

All the girls will for the moment stay the same.

Here is the list of "characters" in the farce that is my life.

Annabel
Annabel is someone I know from work. His story is incredibly depressing but has recently found happiness (as of August 8th) with some important fucker in the TV industry. He's 30 years old and the gays flock to him though I don't find him attractive at all.

Nancy
Nancy is the cutest boy at the gym who I want to spend the rest of my life with and have his children. He's called Nancy because I don't know if he's wonderful or wicked.
He reminds me of Gertrude - a guy at work who I had a major crush.

Gertrude
Gertrude is a bastard.
I had a huge crush on him but because Gertrude has a such a monumental ego he just took it as endorsement that he IS the greatest thing in the world. Period. He's on the TV so I am sometimes tempted to tell you just what a cunt he is, so that when you see him on the box you can point and laugh.

GB
GB is a beautiful boy who cruised me at the gym but who I got over very quickly. He sounded American and lives up the road from me.

Lucinda
Lucinda is the cutest barman in London. He's 20 years old, from Poland and works in a bar in North London. He is sweet and lovable and after we had a snog in a park in Islington I walked him back to his place holding hands. He melted my heart.

Mildred
Mildread is what she should be called. He is in fact a TV producer from the North East who thinks they're on the wrong side of the camera. Like Gertrude, Mildread has a monumental ego. Except he's stupid. Ambition and stupidity - it's a heady mix. I don't know why I still see Mildread. I think the last time he came to London will be the last time I see him.

Winifred
Winifred is a strapped six-foot muscular black man who, while in the showers at the gym, sprang a boner and tossed one off in front of me. It's kept me in jack-off fantasies for weeks. The last I overheard he had a "missus...". He is gorgeous and sexy and if I ever had the chance, I would ravage him like a chef tosses wet lettuce. That is: with vigour and determination. I hope I get the chance to.

Gym Day 77: Latest Pictures

2006-08-09T12:01:00.000+01:00

Sank a bottle of bottle of wine in the course of yesterday evening after getting depressed about Mr GB.

Woke up this morning and realised I don't like him now. Move on!

Mr GB is gorgeous but not as hot as the guy who I really like - the guy who I really like is ...hmmm - we'll call him Nancy*. We also do the eye-hockey. And he is super cute.
He looks a lot like a guy who I once had a terrible crush on at work.

Anyway pictures...here's how I am getting on.
Today I may be able to do a before and after picture. Keep checking back. For now though I'm off to the gym.

* = I have started a new directive on my website.

Many who blog like to keep the names of those nearest and dearest to them anonymous. Instead they use initials.

Except that after a while it can become a little convoluted.

"Went for dinner with J, he mentioned M who said S had said to M that J and R weren't getting along". Clear as muck.

So instead of using initials I have decided that the boys around me shall be renamed using old-fashioned English names. I am going to paste an entry so that you can see who's who (and so that I can remember who the fuck each one is...).

Nice work if you can get it.

2006-08-09T07:55:00.000+01:00

The Daily Mail reports that apparently Paul McCartney and Heather Mills have hired the lawyers that Prince Charles and Princess Diana used when they separated.

Anthony Julius and Fiona Shackleton are the best in the business but it still makes you wonder if you chose the wrong job when you see that they charge £500 an hour for a consultation.

If you work for 8 hours a day, for 20 days a month (which is probably what they do minimum...), that's more than £80,000. A month.
Or about a million pounds a year. Without a bonus. Or incentives.

Bobby searches to see if there are any places left on the Jurisprudence Undergraduate course at Oxford.

Oh shit, applications have shut. Maybe next year..

At home and kicking myself

2006-08-08T20:15:00.001+01:00

Shit fuck bollocks fuck shit shit

Picture this:

Bobby's in the gym and spots a gorgeous boy. Gorgeous Boy (GB) spots Bobby. Cue massive eye-balling.
Bobbys catches GB's eye. GB catches Bobby's eye.

Bobby goes to shower. GB follows. Shower.
Bobby eyes up GB (who has a fabulous body - beautiful pecs, sixpack etc.), GB eyes up Bobby.

They leave the shower together. Changing room and the pair continue to eye each other up.

GB leaves the gym, turning around to Bobby as he turns the corner of the changing room. Bobby decides "fuck it... let's follow and see what happens..."

Bobby leaves gym expecting GB to be around the corner at any moment. Bobby can't see GB anywhere. He stands around - no GB.

He stands around in the gym foyer until he looks stupid.

He wanders over to the supermarket hoping to spot GB. No GB.

Shit fuck bollocks.

Bobby thinks "fuck this for a laugh" and starts walking home. He is disappointed and a little dispondent. Maybe GB was just playing around. Or maybe he was reading GB wrong.

Nearly home and Bobby notices someone behind him. He turns around. It's GB carrying a bag of shopping.

Bobby's heart flutters. GB smiles. There is a nervous pause.

Bobby jokes; "oh, hullo! (laughing) I hope you were following me..."
GB laughs back; "I could have been...."

There is a lingering glance and a smile. Bobby smiles. And silence.

GB looks at Bobby and Bobby says "so..."
GB cuts in; "yes... so... er... "
Bobby: "Right.. er..."

GB: "Do you live around here?"
Bobby: "Yeah, down the road. Um.."

GB: "Right, well", and takes a step back...

Bobby steps back too. There is a moment of very uncomfortable silence and a serious lingering glance.

Bobby goes "I actually don't live on this road but I - it's one down on the way..."

GB is walking backwards and so is Bobby.

Bobby just can't bring himself to say something. A voice inside his head screams; "he wants you to say something you fucking idiot! Say something!"

Bobby doesn't know what to do. He walks back slowly. He wants to run up to GB and grab him and snog the face off him.

He can't stop but walk away. Like GB is doing.

They are now walking away from each other. Bobby turns around and sees GB has also turned around to glance.

They both smile. GB, smiling, shakes his head and is looking down at the pavement.

They're now about 100 yards and walking in the opposite direction.
Bobby turns around and glances again and GB has turned around to glance back.

Bobbys stops but GB is out of sight, down the road.

Bobby suddenly realises a massive missed opportunity.
He kicks himself. "Shit fuck bollocks fuck shit shit"

He really really hopes he sees GB again tomorrow at the gym. This time we will pluck up the courage and say something a little more than just "er... yeah um..."

Shit fuck bollocks cunty cunty fuck shit shit.

Gym Day 76: Where is the body beautiful?

2006-08-06T22:13:00.000+01:00

CzechOUT has got me thinking.

He made the point in a comment about people who work hard at their physique - at trying to look beautiful.

The perception (perhaps correct) is that they're incredibly vain or self-obsessed.

It's part of the reason why I started this blog.

I wanted to explain how I felt along my journey - from being the fat gay in the corner chomping pizza to the svelte gay in the middle of the dance floor with the ripped abs.

Perhaps I am a little self-obsessed. If I wasn't I wouldn't care what I looked like.
I have spent so many nights in clubs and bars looking at the fit guy in the vest and getting so depressed that he wouldn't even spit in my direction because I looked like Nellie the elephant.

For once I want to know what it's like to walk into a bar and have the hot boy look at me.

I want to know what it feels like to dance in a club without your shirt on and have some of the fittest guys there try and make a move.

You may think it's very shallow - but it's no different to aspiring to own a Rolls-Royce. Or to want to be able to call the Ivy and get the best table in the house.

When I was young getting into the gay scene - around 18, 19 years old, I was also getting into the joy of eating.

When I should have been at my physical peak I was instead munching my way through ice cream and fries with mayonnaise. At my heaviest I weighed 112kgs. I now weigh 85kgs.

I was unhappy and fat during what should have been some of the best years of my life. I want to try and regain some of what I missed.

That's why I want to look good.

I don't know much but I know this - Gay World is painfully shallow - you need look no further than what could be the gay motto. "No pecs no sex".
Unfortunately it's the reality.

And the reality is that for far too long all I've heard is; "you're cute and really funny... but you're not my type."

Perhaps I'll hang this blog up when I can say to the hottest boy on the dancefloor; "sorry I know you're interested - and you have a fabulous body - but you're not my type.
I'm actually only interested in boys with a fabulous personality."

That's when I'll feel satisfied.

Welcome to the Club

2006-08-06T13:21:00.000+01:00

The nightclub galleries on the Chris Geary website used to be a fabulous peak into the nightlife in London.

Sadly now the website only seems to be updated with soft-porn of gay rent boys wrestling in Speedos. Not that that's a bad thing.

So step forward Chris Jepson.

He's a photographer who it seems goes from party to party to party and his website is a treasure-trove of fabulous chronicle of nights (and some days) in 'Gay Club, London'.

Find and surf his photo galleries, with pictures like the one below, from here.

Go daddy! Imagine being sandwiched amongst those four! Picture taken from the AM @ Fire Gallery, 14 July 2006.

It's reasonably safe for work - if you work in a pretty relaxed environment - but avoid any galleries named Hard-On or Fist if you're colleagues are of a sensitive disposition.

Gym Day 75: Sunday morning - at work

2006-08-06T10:35:00.000+01:00

Have had to come into work to cover for someone who's sick.

I got a cab in at 6.30 this morning - the cab driver was bonkers. He kept clicking his fingers in time with the indicator when he used it. Odd.

There is literally nothing to do at work and I am sitting at my desk surfing the web.

Usually the talent in our office is pretty dire but this morning I noticed this cutie who I think must be new. I haven't seen him before but I'm liking him.

Over his shoulder I can see what he's looking at on the web and so far he's not yet logged into Gaydar. Assuming he's a poove.

At the moment all he's looking at is the BBC News website. Boring!

If he looks at Gaydar I will cough. Loudly.

It's always amusing to stumble on colleagues' profiles on Gaydar. Especially when they admit that they're into things like watersports or they say they're "muscular" when they mean overweight.

Chris Bryant, the Labour MP who posted a picture of himself taking a photo in the mirror in his underwear (he's quite fit for someone who's 44), used the gaydar profile: www.gaydar.co.uk/alfa101
The Sun still has the photo on their website which you can see here.

Josh Rafter from Big Brother has a Gaydar page: www.gaydar.co.uk/sexyfitjock

Do you know any interesting Gaydar profiles?

Gym Day 75

2006-08-05T22:29:00.000+01:00

It's my day off

They always say that the most important time in the gym is the time that you're not there.
And I'm not.
I've just got in. And I've had a boozer. A few actually.

But I'm going to bed.

I had some pasta (good carbs) and wine, wine, wine.

A lot of wine actually. Bloggers shouldn't do it pissed. I'm not pissed but a little tiddly-poo. So I'm going to go to bed.

Loving you, loving me and you loving you for loving me.

Mwah!

(Drunken sod. Ed.)

Gym Day 74: Cheer up!

2006-08-04T20:55:00.000+01:00

Heads up, boys!

Thought that I couldn't sign off this thing without something to cheer me up.

Instead of posting the usual picture of some hot lad with ripped abs and come-to-bed eyes I'd do something different.

So here is a regular looking guy, in his trunks with some sensational legs at Europride. God they're lovely (not to mention what's packed in the yellow Speedo too...).

Now we can have a wonderful weekend!

See the full set of photos from Europride, taken by Neep, here

Gym Day 74: Generally pissed off

2006-08-04T19:07:00.000+01:00

My day has gone from grim to ghastly

I didn't get enough sleep last night because I went to bed late.

I went out for dinner with a mate in Soho - one of the reasons why I'm pissed off at the moment. I'll explain in a second.

Being tired it meant I had a terrible session at the gym because I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. And so I left early.

On the Tube on the way to work I board an empty carriage. But some cunt gets on and sits right down next to me. That really pisses me off.

I have spent the whole day at work fighting fires of other people's making.

I'm pissed off because I look like this:

And not like this:

I'm also pissed off with the bank (which pisses me off more than idiots who sit down next to me on the Tube) because they won't clear a cheque which means this weekend I'll have £4,80. Until Monday.

I could go on and on. So I will.

I'm pissed off that .. oh screw it! I'm irritating myself more by going on about them.

But listen - I do want to tell you about why I'm irate thanks to dinner last night with a friend in Soho. I use the word friend in the loosest possible sense.

The premise is this:

Mildred (or Mildread as I call him) works as a Television Producer in the North East but he think he's on the wrong side of the camera.

He's desperately vain and wants to be a news reader.

He sits at dinner and goes on about himself with one arm on the table and his left brow raised. He talks to you like you're the fucking Autocue machine.

We settled on Balans Restaurant after trawling up and down Old Compton Street. Boheme was "too smokey" and that yellow pizza restaurant "dodgy looking".

Thank God for Balans and the cute waiters because they managed to calm me down and stop me from poking my fork up his nose.

He orders an apple juice (he doesn't drink, "bad for the complexion"); £2.95 and a cheese burger - but with no cheese £9.90.

I have pasta, a glass of wine, order some bread and get a bottle of water.

Dinner is his rambling monolgue with every second work 'I'.

At one point the mobile phone comes out and he proudly shows me a picture of him and a Tory MP he recently met.

The orifices on my face were nearly bleeding it was so painful to have to sit through.

But the final straw gets pulled at the end of the meal.

When the bill arrives it's £38. So I imagine we'll split it £20 each and I'll put in a little extra because I've had a glass of wine.

Like fuck. He puts down a tenner and two £2 coins.

I was ready to pick up the wine bucket off the next table and hurl it across the restaurant.

Who the fuck these days - when the bill is split - pays exactly for what they ate? I thought he was going to ask for 50p back because he didn't have a slice of cheese on his burger.

It's fair enough if he'd had a bowl of fries and I'd had a bottle of Dom Perignon all to myself.

But that I had to pay most of the bill and sit through an evening of him dismissing everything from the crowds on Piccadilly Circus to the BBC - has made me really really pissed off.

After paying the reminder of the bill and the tip I made my excuses and ran.

A while ago I decided I would only socialise with people I wanted to.

I think my resolution needs a serious review.

Gym Day 74

2006-08-04T09:03:00.000+01:00

Bobby drags his soapbox out from under the sofa

Jay is a blogger from California. He is gay but in the closet.

On Sunday, while we in London were celebrating Soho Pride, Jay was at a gay festival in San Diego.

While we in London partied without a care or prejudice in the world, the story on the other side of the Atlantic was very different.

At San Diego Pride there were protesters with their repellent "God Hates Fags" posters and other such hell-and-damnation rubbish.

America prides itself on being the "land of the free". Perhaps that should be "land of the free to hate".

There is no place for hate in any society. Look at what hate is currently doing in the Middle East.

In London and in Britain we don't tolerate "God Hates Fags". And well we shouldn't.

Saying that people who are gay are going to go to hell is just as offensive as saying that people who are black are going to go to hell.

Our American cousins may have the biggest military and the richest people, but when it comes to human values and understanding they have a long way to go.

To quote Ken Livingstone, the mayor of London who regularly attends and supports gay events and causes, shortly after the bombings on July 7th:

"[People] choose to come to London, as so many have come before because they come to be free, they come to live the life they choose, they come to be able to be themselves.

They flee [extremists] because you tell them how they should live. They don't want that and nothing you do ... will stop that flight to our city where freedom is strong and where people can live in harmony with one another.

Whatever you do, however many you kill, you will fail."

Blowing up Tube trains and "God Hates Fags" is not about freedom. Ever.

Freedom is about living in harmony. Freedom is about tolerance and understanding. Freedom is about being able to be gay and free from antiquated prejudice.

In London you will find that freedom. That's why I'm so proud to call it my home.

Read Ken Livingstone's full statement on the London bombings here.

Gym Day 73

2006-08-03T19:26:00.000+01:00

Shleb spot: Juliette Lewis

Went for dinner with a friend in Soho and who should be spot on Rupert Street?

She's one of the coolest actresses in Hollywood. In one of my favourite films of all time, Strange Days and she has also woken up naked next to Brad Pitt.

They went out for years, didn't they?
I bet at some point they must have spent the night together in the nick. And don't forget Natural Born Killers and The Basketball Diairies. Jeez - this woman rocks!

Oymygod folks, it's Juliette Lewis.

Other shleb spots:
David Hasselhoff

First review of the "Jake Jameson" debut

2006-08-02T18:26:00.000+01:00

The headline that just keeps on giving.
(Switch some of those words around and it would make a very rude headline!)

So I told you about "Jake Jameson", I told you about the movie he's in but I haven't been able to tell you what it's like.

So cue Butch from ManNet.com to the rescue.

Apparently, in Top to Bottom the once innocent "Jake", that young, dapper lad who I remember in a school uniform (yeah when we were at school in Cape Town we had to wear proper uniforms...), gets his ass eaten, fingered and "fucked mercilessly."

I feel embarrassed just telling you about it. Not that that's ever stopped me!

"...But the scene shifts into high gear when Jake and Tyler swap positions, with Tyler on the receiving end of "Jake's" fat prong. Tyler blows a load while "Jake" is pounding him missionary."

Read the full review of the movie on ManNet here. It's (obviously) not work safe...

According to Chris Steele's website which you'll find here (he's the guy who directed the film);

"This is ["Jake's"] first movie and his first scene. He did an amazing job and is supposed to come back in October to do another movie for me. I plan to sign him as a Falcon Exclusive if he ends up here for a couple of years, like he plans."

So it sounds like we're going to see more of "Jake" in the future.

Well, more of what he's doing. There's no much of him we haven't yet seen!

Perhaps we're on the verge of seeing Cape Town's first gay porn superstar?
Folks, you read it here first!

Yeah, interesting Bob but who the hell is this "Jake" character? Read about him here.

And how do you know him? Read about that here.

And what is this movie Top to Bottom? Find out about it here.

Gym Day 69: Armed assault

2006-08-01T20:38:00.000+01:00

Weight: 88kgs
Cardio warm-up: 14 minutes, 2'00 distance
Exercises
Currently using aspects of the Body for Life so I did the reps: 12, 10, 8, 6 - the weights are the final weight I did on 6/4 reps.
Hammer strength MTS Row (that's the silly name of the machine!): 50kgs
Incline bench: 50kgs x 2 - incline bench press of 100kgs
Shoulder raises: 30kgs - I could just manage this
Lat flys: 30kgs - again I struggled
Seated bicep curl: 30kgs - next time could go heavier
Standing bicep curl (straight bar): 25x2kgs
Seated bicep crunches: 30kgs either arm
Tricep push-ups (free): 4 reps, 6, 8 and then fell off...
(Some) stomach
I was so fucking tired I think I can be forgiven for not going abs-mad!

Another brilliant session. Again went in my own time and took as long as I needed.

There's nothing more enjoyable than going to the gym and taking it at your own pace. It's the joy of having a random day off work.

Another gym hint: try and set aside as much time as you think you need.
As soon as you start clock-watching while you're at the gym you get frustrated, bored and give up.

Feeling fabulous and with my protein shake here's how I looked shortly afterwards.

Ohmygod how gay bathhouse is that white towel?!

And then these two shots which I took today... can you tell which was taken after gym and which one just after I woke up?

Yeah, the one on the left is in the morning (the underpants were a bit of a giveaway) and the one on the left was after gym.

See any difference? Neither do I.

Though when you have a look back at what I looked like when I started my blog - and this mission - I reckon that in a little over two months, there is a difference. Here's a reminder (below).

May 26, 2006

Gym Day 68: Back On Form

2006-07-31T17:31:00.000+01:00

Weight: 88kgs
Cardio warm-up: 15 minutes, 2'20 distance, 224 calories
Exercises
Currently using aspects of the Body for Life so I did the reps: 12, 10, 8, 6 - the weights are the final weight I did on 6/4 reps.
Separate pull down: 85kgs
Dumbell incline chest presses: 65kgs
Flatbench press: 55x2kgs
Shoulder shrugs: 45kgs
Front raises: 25kgs
Lateral raises: 25kgs
Stomach
Every session from now on has to include some stomach exercises.

Fabulous session.
It's less than a month before I go to Ibiza. I set this blog up because I wanted to go to Ibiza looking incredible. I was thinking of calling it "IBP" or The Ibiza Body Programme.
If I had a month of sessions like I had today I will be looking great.

It's difficult to picture how I'm improving from these pics but I can definitely feel a difference. Yesterday at Soho Pride I drank beer and so am feeling a little bloated.

But otherwise everything is falling into shape. My stomach's getting definition and my chest and back are getting bigger and more filled out.
The only thing I really need to concentrate on, are my arms.

Here's another snap of me in the gym shortly after the session.

Onwards and upwards!
(Is what an boss, who I loathed, used to say...)

Soho Pride

2006-07-31T08:36:00.000+01:00

Wonderful afternoon with thousands of other gays in the heart of London.

A rather fit lad dances on top of a red phone box in Rupert Street

You could tell there was some sort of poofery going on as the man in our Tube carriage on the Bakerloo line was dressed in a pair of running shorts, with a face like Cher and blonde wig.

Got off at Piccadilly Circus Tube station at about 4pm.

Living in London is like being in a relationship with a troubled, testy though adorable person.

Just as there are some times when you wish the whole place would slide into the sea, there are other times when you fall in love with it all over again.

Walking from Piccadilly Circus up Shaftesbury Avenue towards Soho you could start to hear the noise.

Massive 18th century buildings reverberating to the beats of "you're so fucking sexy - you're a seeeeeeeexy fuuuuuck". Anyone know the name of this tune?

That was the moment I fell in love with London all over again.

And what other city in the world, with the prestige and stature of London, would allow thousands of gays to overrun parts of it, blasting out x-rated house music on a Sunday afternoon?

A drag queen dancing on Shaftesbury Avenue gets the Sunday shoppers spluttering into their Starbucks.

Soho Pride was marvellous and bigger than I remember from the last year.

The North-East corner of Soho Square was packed, the lesbianoka dancefloor was heaving and you couldn't walk down Old Compton Street for all the gays.

My mate D and I spent most of our time at the dancefloor where they'd closed off the bottom of Rupert Street.

At the bottom of Rupert Street looking up towards Brewer Street

There were queens and mingers and some very good totty. We even popped into Barcode and I got served by my "hottest barman in the world". Marvellous!

Bobby's Soho Pride by numbers:
Number of the gays: 1000s
Number of streets closed: 15
Number of lesbians with pet Rottweilers: 4
Number of people I spotted from work: 3
(Including one guy who had his shirt off with a marvellous body and another who should have kept his shirt on)
Number of people I spotted from the gym: 2
Number of guys who I looked at and thought; "I would so do you right now...": about 10
Number of guys who thought that about me: 3
(Based on the number of times I had my arse pinched)

Song I heard the most: Mish Mash feat. Lois - Speehless.

A performance by a pair who looked liked they were gym boys in Essex chic with too much make-up on. (Imagine Christine Aguilera meets Vin Diesel with a boa). Using empty Magner bottles they sang a version of "Sweet Dreams", by Eurythmics.

And finally, what would Soho Pride be without a brief glimpse of some go-go boy totty.

Roll on Soho Pride 2007!

Summer of 69?

2006-07-28T13:19:00.000+01:00

What position do you find yourself in?

I must apologise that my blog, thanks to this entry is going to take a turn for the worse. Yes folks, I'm going to get a little smutty.

I was reading on Wikipedia about various positions people take when they are having sex.

I'm not even going to begin to explain how I ended up there but it had me amused.

We all know of the missionary position and perhaps if you're a little saucy you sometimes may enjoy the "69" or doing it "doggy style".

But who the fuck (being the er, operative word) ever heard of the Elephant Walk. According to Wikipedia it's "when a group of men form a circle where each with one hand holds the penis of the man behind him and with the other hand inserts his thumb into the anus of the man in front of him."

Who has ever heard of that, and more importantly who has ever done that!? It must be a joke.

And what of the Hydraulic Jackhammer?!
"When the receiving partner lies on shoulders with back up against a bed or couch (sort of a head-stand, except on shoulders) and legs folded toward their head. The penetrating partner stands astride and inserts from a standing position."
Say what? How?

But the Wikipedia page doesn't mention two of my favourite sexual activities, ones that don't really bring a bulge to my trousers but more a smile to my face.

Before I mention them I have to point out - that I have never indulged (is that the right word?) in ether of them but...

The first is the Dirty Sanchez.
I don't know why this makes me laugh but apparently - if you have sex with a woman up the bum and then get a little mess on your finger and smear it across her upper lip, creating a moustache like a hairy housewife, it's called a Dirty Sanchez!

Tee hee hee....

(I went to an all-boys boarding school for God's sake - this is the kind of stuff that kept Biology lessons interesting!)

The second position is only amusing because of it's name but apparently...
If you're having intimacies with someone and you're licking their arse and wanking them off at the same time, it's called "Playing the Rusty Trombone."

Loving the schoolboy smut.

So here's more...

Apparently if you're licking someone's bum it's also called a "black kiss" or "tossing the salad". Why tossing the salad? And apparently if you take someone's
(That's enough sex positions for now I think. Ed.)

Fumble in the jungle

2006-07-28T10:32:00.000+01:00

A Thursday night is always good for a little spit and Polish...

As I told you below - met Annabel for a drink in Islington and it was great to catch up.

So I go to the bar to order a drink and a very cute, young guy serves me. There's loads of eye contact and he looks very nervous but smiles and fumbles around trying to make the G&T because he's clearly been distracted. As I have too...

Anyway, later in the evening one of Annabel's new boyfriends (?!) swings by and I leave them to talk and go back to the bar.

I continue my outrageous flirt with the young barman who tells me his name that he's Polish and 20 years old and wants to learn psychology and loves London but not the flat he's living in. We'll call him Lucinda.

My heart is just totally and completely melting.
He has a beautiful smile and a bit of a lisp and he tells me his shift is nearly over.

Having distracted him for too long I leave him to serve other customers and I go back and chat to Annabel and his mate who have finished snogging on the couch.
I don't realise how long I'm sat there because when I look out I see Lucinda leaving the bar.

I jump up, make my apologies and leave to follow him down Islington High Street. He doesn't know I'm behind him and I'm trying to pluck up the courage and tap him on the shoulder.

Finally I do so.

He starts when he sees who it is and I do the corny line "sorry, I never got your number...".

It's not long before we're sitting on a wall somewhere off Islington High Street chatting. We chat for at least an hour but he says he must walk home because he has to be up early.

He says I'm welcome to walk with him.

I don't know quite what happened but next I'm jumping over a gate into a quiet park with him and we're kissing.

Of course one thing leads to another.

Having finished we sat on a bench and he takes my hand and puts his on his leg. He is so cute and I stroke his head. Aw!

We jump back over the gate and continue our way back to his flat holding hands. It's about 3am and no-one is around.

It's so wonderful to walk through the quiet streets of London holding a someone's hand who you've just fallen for.

He tells me he lives on Caledonian Road and the people he lives with aren't very nice and one day he would like to live "somewhere like West Hampstead".

When he finally get to his front door it is indeed shitty. The area, the flat, the noise from the neighbours shouting. I feel so sorry for him.
But I also feel so lucky and grateful for what I have.

We say good night and he closes the door and I just stand on the pavement outside.

Lucinda is cute and he's intelligent (and he has a fabulous body too, mind...) and one day he's going to make someone really happy. But I don't think it's going to be me. Perhaps I don't want it to be me.

I don't know what to think.
He's 8 years younger than me. I was in junior school when he was born. Madonna was in the charts with Papa Don't Preach when he was born!

All I know is that he's so special and doesn't deserve to be hurt.

Gay London is nearly all harsh and bitchy, politicky and cliquey but for a few hours I met someone who was none of that - a genuinely gorgeous boy.

I'll let you know what happens...

Gym Day 63: No gym

2006-07-28T09:51:00.000+01:00

After six days of building, it's time to take a rest

Just as when God created the Universe (if you believe in this version of events..), he took six days and then rested.

And so did I.

I also had a day off from work.
So decided to took the Jubilee Line to Westminster to meet a friend for a coffee. A woman with a pram got on at Bond Street and so I moved to let her sit down with her child.

Of course as soon as I got up some other woman with a fat ass in purple moved in and plonked herself right down where I had been sat. Rude cow.

Anyway, alighted at Westminster station, which has to be the coolest Underground or subway station in the whole entire world.

Got above ground in Parliament Square and battled the thousands of tourists who were all angling to take a photo of Big Ben. Of course I had to as well, only have some twat walk right into the middle of the picture.

Walking through Parliament Square to St James's Park I'm pretty sure I spotted Sir Alan Sugar in the back of his Rolls-Royce.

Though it could have actually been any old rich bastard in the back of this chauffeur-driven tank.
Yes, I'm jealous because I don't have one.

Anyway, met H for coffee but being still hungry and what with a day off from the gym, I went to Nandos, in this brilliant new shopping mall/office block on Victoria Street, and devoured a wonderful chicken burger with chips. Heaven on a plate. And I'm purely a Lemon & Herb boy...

Afterwards returned home to freshen up (in this hot weather I'm always paranoid that I stink...) and took the Silverlink to Islington to meet J for a drink.

One day I must tell you J's story; it's pretty awful and he's bearing up well. It was a nasty break-up with his boyfriend.

Actually J's bearing up very well indeed and all our conversation seems to be is J listing the boys he's dragged back to his place. Loving him.

The bar wasn't too full and there was some good talent.

Can you spot which one it is? In Islington...?

Anyway - during the course of the evening met the cutest 20 year old Polish boy. And he is cute.

Perhaps I should tell you about him... but first I need some breakfast. I only got home at about 4am. :-)

Postcards from Miami

2006-07-27T11:32:00.000+01:00

Hullo Darlings!

Have been doing a lot of travelling lately. Doncha know?! You've been missing me haven't you?

Everybody's fine! and we're really spreading the word of love, peace, understanding and astronomical ticket prices.

And remember in the words of Our Lady of Fallen Horse:
"Time goes by so slowly, those who run seem to have all the fun."

And here's a snap of me on the Costa Del Talentless

Can't wait to see you all! very seen to tell you about my holiday. And my views on the Middle East and how I'm going to end the war in Iraq and the story of my pointey bra.

Loving you all madly. Ta ra!

x x x

"Jake Jameson" makes his porn debut

2006-07-26T11:10:00.000+01:00

Falcon's Top to Bottom is now available

The very friendly PR people at Falcon Video have sent me an e-mail (quite how they have my e-mail address is unclear - they must have read this blog) telling me about their latest video, Top to Bottom.

Find out more about the film from Falcon Video here (not work safe).

It's the one I've been harping on about - with "Jake Jameson", a lad who I recognise from my schooldays in Cape Town.

I hope it doesn't take too long to reach stores in Britain, but until then you're going to have to be my eyes and ears. I guess this is primarily if you're in the States...

Have you seen Top to Bottom? How does "Jake Jameson" do?

Are his acting skills any good?
Of course acting skills are very different to his other "onscreen skills" which, according to quite a number of people in Cape Town, are only "pretty average".

Being from Cape Town he obviously doesn't have an American accent so does he speak laaik a reel Seth Efriken? Or does he do an accent?

I have to know - does he talk dirty in Afrikaans?

Just incase: "kom en maak plek op my gesig" roughly translates to "come and sit on my face". So that you know...!

This is when I originally found out about "Jake"

And here's a little on my blog more about him.

I can't wait to hear from you!

Gym Day 62: Parting shot

2006-07-25T23:30:00.000+01:00

Something that's going to be making my feet tap...

Have you heard the latest Justin Timberlake single, Sexyback?
It fucking rocks man.

Now listen, I'm a difficult music fan to please.

The last three albums I bought were all classical (Shostakovich, Beethoven and Khatachurian, thanks for asking...) but listening to the new Justin Timberlake single; it's a goddam No. 1 in the making.

My Music Anticipation Scale looks like this (based on a cross-section of music):

Can't fucking wait - am at HMV at Bond Street Tube by 9am to buy

Kate Bush - Aerial

Anything new by Michael Jackson

Barbra Streisand - Guilty II

If Bjork were to release anything new

If Marilyn Manson were to release anything new

The Soundtrack to Memoirs of a Geisha

Looking forward to it, but won't make any special effort

The new Justine Timberlake "Sexyback" single

The new Christina "Ain't No Other Man But You" single

Madonna - Confessions on a Dance Floor

The Prodigy - Always Outnumbered Never Outgunned

A new U2 album

What? They've done another album? Whatever...

Anything by Will Young

Gym Day 62: Pumped not built?

2006-07-25T13:27:00.000+01:00

Don't laugh throw money!

...Is what an old teacher of mine used to say when he had nothing else to say.

Actually I do have one thing to say.

Oh screw it... if I can't be bothered to write it, I can't see why you should even be vaguely interested to read it! (The first rule of creative writing 101.)

So instead here's another picture of how I'm getting on. And shock! I took it inside the gym, after a pretty good session this morning.

Loving the gym. Loving you and loving me, loving you.

Gym Day 61: Same as...

2006-07-24T11:45:00.000+01:00

Managing not to hassle the Hoff!

Got out of my pit this morning and made it to the gym - which is bloody marvellous!

I'm should make a page of "hints for the gym". You know I swear by the book - that is, carry a notebook around the gym, so that you can chart your progress. Major help!

Second hint - go in the morning. It's quiet and you have lots of energy and if you get a good night's sleep before it invigorates the day.

And let's be honest - there is nothing worse than getting on a crowded train on the way home, only to then think about doing battle in an even more crowded gym.

So gym - tick!

Anyway, got to work with a Monday morning spring and who should I get into the lift with? Bloody David Hasselhoff.

He speaks very loudly and of course I didn't want to make a tit of myself by hauling out the mobile phone and doing a "David, would you mind if I..."

So after getting out of the lift I managed to, at a discreet distance, hook the Hoff.

You're just going to have to believe me that this is him:

The Hoff (above) in the foyer talking loudly to that woman in white. And below - the Hoff leaves the building.

Gym Day 60: Armed struggle

2006-07-23T17:43:00.000+01:00

Building bigger biceps

Had a mediocre session at the gym but the usual mantra must be observed.
It is: "it is better to go and do a little than nothing at all".

Actually I did more than a little. I did some lats, chest and arms (biceps). Tomorrow I must do some back, shoulders, triceps and legs.

Arms? Have a look at this little pumped up puppy:

We've got 7 days until Soho Pride - the first of the "flagship" events I have been planning and gymming for. I think we're on a track to wear a vest.

It will be the first time I have worn a vest to a gay event, ever. In many ways I expect it will feel very weird.

I'm debating which vest to wear - so help me decide. We have a choice of three - though if you think none of them are up to the challenge, please suggest something else.

Here they are in no particular order (sounds like a fucking parade for Miss World this does..)

The black one (above) is easy - it hides the bits you don't really want others to see and the straps make your shoulders bigger than they really are. Though black can be hot and perhaps hides too much!?

This little blue number (above) is a difficult one because it's quite fitted. Though with a bit of a tan it looks very good. The only problem is that, once you've had a beer and your stomach feels a little bloated, in this vest it makes you look like you've eaten a whole fucking hotdog stand.

Finally there's this baby (above). It's black and again hides alot. Though there's one thing about it that's perhaps a little too full-on for a Gay Pride. Yep, the logo. Falcon Video produces gay pornographic movies.

This is the logo on the vest:

If you're going to wear something like that, which I'm sure a lot of people will recognise, you have to do it confidentally - especially a vest promotiong porn flicks.

Let's be honest, at the moment I am more porn slop than porn stud. So maybe this one gets ruled out?

Decisions decisions!?

Tell me this - do straight boys fret this much over what they're going to wear to gay pride?

Gym Day 60: More picture progress

2006-07-23T12:43:00.000+01:00

It's been 60 bloody long days of this...

What's there better to do on a Sunday lunchtime than prance around the house, in your Speedo, taking pictures of yourself?

Well er, nothing it seems.

Since it's Day 60 (diamond fucking anniversary mate - we missed the Golden one...), I thought it only appropriate to present you with some more evidence.

Again though - just because it's gym day 60 doesn't mean that I have been to the gym 60 times. I should actually count how many times I have been since I started this blog.

I should but I can't be bothered.

Check out how different the colour of my skin looks, depending on the light at the time. In the photo below it's nearly fucking grey. If I had blood-shot eyes and put in those silly plastic vampire teeth I could scare children!

All together now - in the voice of Gary Oldman from the Francis Ford Coppolla film; "My name is Draaakkuuuuuuuyaaaaa...."

Speaking of which - have you seen Bram Stoker's Dracula recently? I got it out o the video shop a few weeks ago, hadn't seen it for years.

Visually it's beautiful - and perhaps I would appreciate it's aesthetic even more if I was straight because you do get to see a lot of Sadie Frost's tits.

That and Keanu Reeve's acting, which is atrocious.

Were you ever a fan of Keanu Reeves? Me? Nah...

If there was one boy from 'Hollywood' who I would love to climb all over, it would be Seann William Scott.

Oh baby...come to daddy...!

Gym Day 58: Running on empty

2006-07-21T20:08:00.000+01:00

A whine thanks to the wine

Had a day out of the office for a day of strategy. We convened our day at a pub along the banks of the Thames in Chiswick - part of London I loathe.

It's not really Chiswick I loathe but more the people who live there. Dull middle class Times-reading nouveau riche. Ghastly.

Anyway - after the day's session you can imagine what happened. Yes, the wine started flowing.

The four of us who were left were finally thrown out of the venue at around 11-ish.

I tried to snog a colleague at Turnham Green tube station - we both realised that an Underground stop wasn't the best place for homo-love - so we went our own ways. Which was probably best in the end.

I got home and stumbled about, fell asleep with my contact lenses in and woke up this morning feeling like shit. But still managed the gym - if only for a hard 20-minute run.

As a little treat on the way into work on the Central Line I was given some nice foreign totty to ogle. At least I guess he was foreign because he was reading a Home Office manual entitled "Living in Britain."

Good totty is best shared. Enjoy.

Picture progress

2006-07-21T19:28:00.000+01:00

Evidence of the evolution

Littered around my blog are pictures of what I'm looking like and how I'm getting on in my mission "to go from a body embarrassment to a body beautiful".

Ultimately this is what I would love to look like (below), though because of many reasons (genetics etc.) I understand it's not easily done. If I can get half way there it's twice as good as what I looked like when I started.

I thought I should put all the pictures in one place so that it's a little easier to compare and contrast.

The latest pictures are at the top.

This picture (above) is slightly depressing because it shows there's not much of a change with the one below which was taken nearly two months below.

Be that as it may, there has been some progress I assure you so keep checking back. You will see a difference but as anyone will tell you - it takes time!

This picture (above) was taken on August 9th. I need to build more and get ripped. Don't we all!? I've been at this nearly 2 and a half months - and I have to admit there are nags of "is this really worth it" surfacing.

This picture shows the latest improvement (above), taken on 1 August 2006. Compare it with the one right at the bottom and I hope you'll see how much I reckon things have improved. Fitter, fuller, happier. Sounds good to me!

July 13, 2006 (above). I reckon that any pictures above this one are me looking physically better than I have ever looked in my life. I reckon that in itself is quite an achievement - if I do say so myself!

June 16, 2006 (above). I got the clippers out and tidied things up a little. This is more defined result

June 16, 2006 (above). More of the same thanks to the clippers.

May 30, 2006 (above). One of the first signs that summer is on the way - standing on the balcony outside in a pair of shorts for the first time that I can remember this year!

May 26, 2006 (above). The first picture I took of myself, just as my mission started. Hopefully you'll notice the difference between this one and the one right at the top.
This was the start of Bobby's Body Blog.

Bobby's Body Blog Disclaimer

I hope you enjoy my blog as much as I enjoy writing it. Because it's all about gym and exercising there is a disclaimer.
Please read the disclaimer here.

Gym Day 51: More of the Jameson

2006-07-15T16:19:00.000+01:00

Still shocked!

I had a day off from gym yesterday and instead ended up in the bar at work with three friends.
Between us we sank six bottles of Pinot Grigio - a marvellous way to spend a Friday and end the week.

Today did some serious cardio to burn off the calories from alcohol.

I ran for 20 minutes, covering 3,15 kilometres and according to the machine, burnt off 328 calories.
Song that got me through the session: DJ Tiesto - Traffic (Tiesto Club Mix)

Throughout the session I couldn't stop thinking about "Jake Jameson", the new Falcon Video gay porn model who I told you about below - or find it here.

I am still genuinely shocked that a guy who I recognise from my school-days and the scene in Cape Town is now appearing in gay porn movies.

MCQP is an annual queer fancy dress party in Cape Town - here are pictures of "Jake" on their website - in this picture in the fourth row, second from the left.

Sliver is arguably Cape Town's only gay club - it used to be called Angels. Here is a picture of "Jake" with an older looking gentleman.

I honestly don't know why I am so taken aback by it. After all it's only porn for God's sake.

But there is just something very unusual about seeing someone who you've known since they were at school, taking one in the bum on film.

Am I being a prude? Maybe.
I am back off to my darkened room to lie down.

Read here about when Jake Jameson's video was made available.

Porn Star Alert: Jake Jameson

2006-07-15T11:10:00.000+01:00

Bobby is officially observing a moment of shock

I don't know know where to start with this..!

As you may know, I lived in Cape Town for a while, where I went to school. Cape Town also has a very small gay community.

With Cape Town being very small you tend to spot people, and you recognise others because perhaps you've seen them out on the scene. Whether it be at Bronx, the city's only famous gay bar - or perhaps in one of the city's few clubs.

So when you're on gaydar - and you're surfing through user profiles in Cape Town, you recognise a lot of people who you used to know.

Like this gentleman: www.gaydar.co.uk/jakejameson
He went to a school close to mine and I used to see him at many inter-school events and such.

As we grew up and left school I saw him out on the gay scene in Cape Town a lot. Infact a few times we chatted and even swapped numbers.

Surfing old gaydar profiles is a funny way of finding out "whatever happened to..."

So you can imagine my shock when I get a spam e-mail from Falcon Video - a porn video company.
(By the way - my gym shoes have starred in a Falcon Video which you can read about here.)

Anyway... so I go into my e-mail inbox to read about this latest porn movie Top to Bottom and... can you see where this is going??!!

OHMYGOD!! You can find the video preview here. (it's SO not work safe)

I will give "Jake Jameson" (I'll spare his blushes by not revealing his real name) 10/10 for bravery.

To "Jake", mate - good luck with the er, career - it's certainly a far cry from waiting tables at x x x x x x !
And the next time I spot you in Bronx you can buy me the drink.

Bobby shall now retire to lie down in a darkened room. Lord!
(But not before he goes to gym).

Other pages on my site about "Jake Jameson" are listed below:
See links to picture of "Jake" around the web here
"Jake" makes his debut in his first gay porn film here
Review of "Jake" in Top to Bottom here