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Straight Talking
About Me

From::Northern Ireland, United Kingdom
I'm an avid dreamer. I have big ideas, and I'll probably take them somewhere. Watch this space. I want to present what I think - and not with words minced up into an acceptable platter. Some things need to be told straight - particularly gay rights. Particularly life in the closet, it's very nature means no one hears it. If they do it's usually tinted with nostalgia. I'm confident, I know what I like and what I don't. Please don't confuse this for arrogance. I'm probably more insecure then you imagine.
View my complete profile

Straight Talker is a poor student now.

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Recent Posts

Coming Out of the Woodwork
Clean Air Prevails
You Big Pansy
Pink Pounds… Lots of Them
Gordon Doesn't Like Us
On The Move
Beware Gay Music
Safe Sex For Dummies
London Baby Yeah
Closet Case


August 2005
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December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
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December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
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Post Script

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Thursday, June 29, 2006

The Great Pink Scare

As I type this I remind myself of Carrie Bradshaw from “Sex And The City”. Not because I am making some trite statement about a heterosexual love life, neither do I have a twangy American accent, but I do have a rather cute new laptop to type it on.

My beautiful new equipment may not excite some of you as much as it excites me, but as a fully qualified internet-child and computer-nerd, I’m easily satisfied. For the less technically minded of you, I also got a cute little mouse that lights up and changes colour.

I’ve rattled on before about AfterEllen.com, a fabulous website that gives interesting commentaries on lesbians and lesbianism in the media. Today however I am referring to AfterElton.com (no prizes for guessing) – the male equivalent.

An article on there caught my eye, about a documentary aired in American telling the tale of three Professors at the American Smith University who were arrested and charged in the 1950s for viewing/sharing/possessing male erotica.

While persecution of gays, and lesbians is certainly not news to anyone, what interested me about this was the fact that now two of those Professors charged where speaking candidly about what it did to their lives.

The professionals in question, Dorius, Spofford and Arvin lost their jobs. Dorius entered a mental institution and Spofford was hospitalized numerous times as well,. Arvin was consumed with guilt about his sexuality, and was said to feel relief when punishment came. He died three years later, a convicted felon.

Dorius and Spofford had their convictions overturned in 1963, although by then the damage was done. Both men had difficulty finding teaching positions, eventually finding some in the 1970s.

“The Great Pink Scare” as the documentary is called certainly sounds very interesting, and it is important to see the Independent Television Service telling these stories to a new-thinking generation.

All three men are now sadly dead, Spofford and Dorius passing away earlier this year. However as Spofford sais in the 1990s in his memoirs, “It’s much better now. There is no double life.”


Tuesday, June 27, 2006

"Alreet Mate?" - On Being Norn Irish

I’ve always considered myself an accents girl. I do pay a lot of attention to how someone speaks, almost as much as what they say. Perhaps it comes from having a Northern Irish drawl which makes me conscious of my own tone wherever I go – but an accent is sure to turn my head.

I don’t need to mention the hotness of a foreign woman whispering sweet nothings into your ear, but oddly enough I also like accents some people find strange, grating or just damn annoying.

I remember a teacher from the ‘cunt-ry’ (the N. Irish sticks) coming to teach in my school, and within about 3 sentences I was virtually smitten. There’s obviously nothing like the Irish accent, but even the welsh voice; coming out of the right woman can be most endearing. This where I mention Big Brother’s Imogen – she might bitch quite a bit, and be a little bit of a bimbo – but when she speaks I’d vote anyone out.

So – using some reverse thinking, and my delightfully distinctive accent, I’m hoping that with my move to England, I shall get lots of attention from the ladies. While I am always very conscious that I have a flag that says ‘Northern Irish – ask me dumb questions’ tattooed to my forehead, all attention is welcome. The only barriers being to communication being, I speak too fast the small English ear, and once they open their eyes I’m screwed.

But you never know, I might get one with odd tastes – I just hope she has a nice accent.


Sunday, June 25, 2006

What A Drag

Most people associate ‘drag’ specifically with camp men in brightly coloured dresses, stilettos and fake boobs. Drag Queens have formed a popular representation of queer identity for many years, with ‘Lily Savage’, ‘Ru Paul’ and friends being the stereotypical, flamboyant queens who converse with the masses.

Some of us have more contact with drag queens than others. I must admit to being somewhat intimidated by the various larger than life characters that frequent some gay bars in Belfast when I was first introduced to the scene. There is no doubt that whether you are straight or gay, members of the public instantly recognise a drag queen.

However, it seems the term “drag king” is somewhat less well known among the public. I was a little surprised to find that my heterosexual friends had never ever heard of a drag king, but I guess, how many male impersonators present daytime television?

One open-minded friend did hazard a guess. If a ‘drag queen’ was a man dressed up as a woman, surely a ‘drag king’ should be a man dressed up as… a man?

I really don’t imagine I’d have to accurately explain the term to many lesbians. There is something ridiculously attractive about a woman in a smart suit or other typically male attire. And yet the closest popular media gets to drag kings are androgynous advertising ploys and Sarah Waters novels.

I’ve often heard gay males say that they don’t fancy ‘men dressed up as women’, they fancy men, yet few lesbians can say they don’t feel some pull to an attractive drag king. I believe the attraction lies in the fact that despite the masculine appearance – there is still that unmistakable femininity.

However, if you’re doing drag – don’t make it too convincing. That could be disasterous.


Thursday, June 22, 2006

Equality In The Eye of the Beholder

Sorry my poor neglected readers, I can only pray you will forgive me. Those of you who are in msn and email contact may have some idea why I have been absent, and it is a reason slightly more than being in the pub watching football for the last week. (Although I have spent rather a lot of time there.)

I shall try and catch up with updates if you bear with me over the next few days. Hence if the dates on this post change, you aren’t seeing things. I’m just an obsessive type.

Something which caught my eye on the wonderful PinkNews.co.uk site was new research into Northern Irish views on the LGBT population. Apparently 86% of the population wouldn’t mind having a gay, lesbian or bisexual work colleague or neighbour. I can only imagine part of the remaining 14% who are dusting off their placards in preparation for the summer’s pride event.

Other shocking statistics show that city-dwellers are in generally more open-minded and concerned, as 71% of Belfast respondents think the LGBT community is unfairly treated. This is not the case elsewhere; no wonder many young gays aspire to move to the metropolis that is (not) Belfast and beyond.

I’m generally quite sceptical of statistics, but in this case it only serves to reinforce my views. Many areas of Northern Ireland are backward in their views towards homosexuality, and despite the many leaps and bounds from 30 years – there is still an unwillingness to address the issue of gay equality here.


Tuesday, June 20, 2006

They Think It's All Over

It’s Tuesday. That’s blog night. It’s also the night after all my exams, and like any proper dyke I marked this by watching a football match in a pub and eyeing up any potential talent that came in the door. This of course means I missed 3 out of the 4 goals in England’s 2 all draw with Sweden, not that I mind that much. It was a pretty good game – even if most goals seemed more fluke (that seems to be the way with most sport to me).

Like any self-respecting dyke I try my best to act football-savvy, throwing in the odd international player name for good measure. I must admit my knowledge of football is generally quite limited to what the Internet tells me. Although, more by chance than anything, my fantasy football team is performing quite well.

So aside from trying desperately to act like I know the difference between Ronaldo and Ronaldinho (it gets more difficult the more drinks I have), I was watching the talent. Football night is full of boozy men, their disgruntled wives, and dykes.

The disgruntled wives form vague (if not old) eye candy, and the dykes provide something to make knowing eyes at during the slow motion replays. Plus the half time visit to the toilets is a bit of a squeeze.

I can’t help wondering if the rest of the lesbians in the pub, and in pubs across the country are feigning interest like me. If they were, would they admit it. And if they admitted it, could we just get over the formalities?


Sunday, June 18, 2006

Big Brother is a Patriarch!!

I must admit to watching Big Brother. Every year I wish I could say I rise above it, but every year I remain glued to the virtual fish tank that now lasts 13 weeks. It is of course, terribly disappointing.

I must say, I do like super-camp Canadian, Richard. He is manipulative as they come – but he does seem to have a brain, which is more than most of the rest of them. I really don’t see how promotions girls and dancers are reflective of society. I’m sure George Orwell is turning in his grave.

Not only is it full of people prancing around in bikinis and generally making us ashamed to actually be watching them, but also there is not a single, single lesbian in it. In fact, there’s not even a coupled lesbian. Big Brother is wholly devoid of lesbianism. What kind of television is this?

Granted Big Brother did have some problems with militant dyke Kitten, who refused to abide by the rules in what was a terribly funny time. Unfortunately lots of people failed to see the funny side, including Big Brother and she was kicked out after roof top protests, diary room occupation and even refusing to leave the house when she was evicted.

So, maybe she wasn’t the best ambassador – but I liked her. She was funny to watch, and I got the impression she too had a brain, something not many other housemates have.

In fact, possibly the nearest we have to a lesbian in the house was ‘Sleazy’ Sezer, who lists his favourite book as Jeanette Winterson’s ‘Written on the Body’ (which I too highly recommend).
In conclusion, Big Brother is afraid of brains and lesbians. Together, one must presume, they are a potent mix.


Thursday, June 15, 2006

Moyles Mess

I’m going to pick up from Reluctant Nomad here and follow the story of BBC Radio 1’s Chris Moyles causing a bit of a fuss by referring to a ring tone as ‘gay’.

It does seem a bit much really to have the BBC implementing new disciplinary proceedings because a presenter uses what is, sadly, a common slang term among today’s youth. However we must take into account that young people do copy their role models, and Moyles is (for some unknown reason) popular with the under 30s. Also – while the gay lobby is picking up his use of the word ‘gay’, Ofcom have also received complaints of his talking about women as ‘dirty whores’, and saying ‘piss’ and ‘twat’. Delightful for a public figure.

Moyles is also an arrogant oaf, so while I’m sure he revels in all the attention, I for one think it’s time he was pulled up for his bad attitude, which the BBC seem to be promoting. I suppose it means they can make shows about the deteriorating state of the nations youth?

The BBC committee initially protested that Moyles was using the word ‘gay’ to mean ‘lame’ or ‘rubbish’. I know that is a common use of the word among today’s youth, and I, as a young gay person myself am actually frustrated at this use which obviously promotes the idea of homosexuality as abnormal, secondary to heterosexuals who are obviously not ‘lame’ or rubbish at all.

‘Gay’ is used as a derogatory term all too often in everyday life. It can be seen to have a negative effect on young people, and too often it is ignored by teachers and adults as being modern slang. Stonewall at least see the potential importance of it, as in their new “Speak Out” survey, they actually ask about the usage of the term.

I won’t pretend I’m unbiased. I dislike Moyles as I think he is a very poor excuse for entertainment. However, whatever my thoughts on him – to promote homophobia – no matter how subtly or unintentionally – is wrong.


Sunday, June 11, 2006

Chat Up Lines

Thank you all for your birthday wishes. The event has passed reasonably quietly. I drank the bar out of their weekly supply of Smirnoff Ice, and had a largely trouble free night with the least bitchy of my acquaintances.

Perhaps the most difficult part of my birthday weekend was justifying my presents to my mother. One friend thought it would be most humorous to buy me a book, “How to chat up women”, which I can recommend, despite giving a wholly heterosexual outlook on dating. I hope my friend was suggesting the irony of me not needing a book. It has however offered me some advice on the role of facial hair in flirting. Apparently if I grow a goatee I will attract a different kind of woman. I bet.

I justified the above gift with a made up tale of me chatting up the dinner ladies in school to get bigger portions. The very thought of chatting up our gnarled dinner ladies makes my little stomach turn.

Another friend got me a nice card with a picture of a masturbating woman on the front of it. She had, at least, pre warned me of this. Thank god I took her warning seriously. That would have been slightly more difficult to explain. I think the vibrating laser gun toy from another person who perhaps thinks I am about to begin childhood regression may also have connotations, but not any my parents would pick up on.

My new snazzy walkman mobile phone has been filled up with the best of dykish tunes, meaning I can declare my sexuality covertly by my music choice on the move.

Oh to be 17 again….


Thursday, June 08, 2006


It’s my 18th birthday on Saturday. Despite the fact I know that in reality it’s not that old – it is still a little creepy. All the oldies will no doubt scorn me for being so stupid, but 18 years is quite a long time!

So in honour of the occasion, and because split ends aren’t fashionable anymore, I took a trip to the hairdressers. I quite like going to the hairdressers for a number of reasons, although I always feel a little like I’m intruding.

Not only are all the young girls in my hairdressers rather attractive, but they also wear shirts that are far to low cut for someone who has to lean over all the time. They really aren’t my type, but they do make it slightly more bearable.

I haven’t got the full dyke hair do yet, It’s slowly getting there – getting just that little bit shorter every 5/6 weeks since I was 15. I can’t help wondering if my hairdresser knows, as she’s given me something which looks disturbingly like a baby mullet this month.

It’s my party tonight. And I’ll invite all my gay friends if I want to. It’ll at least make mummy wonder where I meet these kinds of people.


Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Sweet Teens

I was reading an interesting article a few weeks ago. It was all about the importance of literature to teens. The writer reminisced on the books of her teens, which, she claims, shaped her person. The books provided not just an entertaining past time, but also formed part of her instruction in the teenage vices - boys, school and ‘girly things’.

I admit to being greatly enamoured by the “Sweet Valley High” series. Not least because it happened to feature two rather beautiful twins. The writer of the aforementioned article pronounced Judy Blume to be her favourite teenage writer. Each to their own.

It doesn’t take an astro-physicist specialist with a PhD in particle metabolism (a scientist) to figure that there aren’t too many lesbian teen books about. Those that are out there seem to be geared much more towards the older crowd, reminiscing about the days before Big Brother and the comparative freedom we ‘young ones don’t appreciate’. Not that there is anything wrong with the many soppy coming of age tales of school day love. However, none of these will ever be able to fall into mainstream teen reading.

At this stage it feels appropriate to give the nod to the second series of “Sugar Rush” which begins on June 15th on C4. “Sugar Rush”, despite not exactly being Shakespeare, seems to be breaking into the mainstream. At last! A lesbian geared novel exploring normal, modern lesbian teen life! Well, normal as far as hot-wiring a car, stealing your best friends knickers and having a brother that paints everything blue can be.

As I speed towards my 18th Birthday (Saturday), it occurs to me that all through my school career, 14 years of English teaching, not one book we studied even hinted at same sex relationships (unless I basically twisted it to meet me own ends.) As a young person looking for literature that accurately depicts my growing up experience, even loosely, I have to look on far from the teen section of bookshops and libraries. I happen to be an avid reader, actively pursuing books.

But what about those who don’t?


Sunday, June 04, 2006

Not Even The Girly Ones

I guess I really should have known I was a lesbian all along. There’s not really much excuse for taking a full 14 ½ years to figure it out. In truth I always preferred the Spice Girls to those many boy bands (particularly Sporty Spice).

I have memories of the emergence of ‘5ive’, ‘Westlife’, ‘Boyzone’, even ‘911’. I remember seeing them on TV for hours (TV raised me), and reading about trivial things like their boxers in silly little magazines. Nearly all my friends fancied at least one of each of the aforementioned bands – I didn’t. Not even the girly ones.

Indeed, the only band I fancied vaguely was those long haired children, “Hanson”. But they don’t count, since they sang like girls and looked like them. Of course they’re all grown up now, and all those girls my age that fancied them aged 9, fancy them in a much less innocent way at 18.

I’m not saying I obsessed over many girl bands either (with the exception of The Corrs, my first love). Pop music was never really my thing. However I definitely looked at the girls in a different way to the boys. The way they pranced about in those skimpy fluorescent outfits obviously appealed to my sub-conscious dyke, even then.

Luckily I have much better music taste now. Like any proper dyke I have the necessary Etheridge, Lang and Morrisette tunes. I am well versed in lesbian-lore, and can face any lesbian music pop quiz with my head held high.

It seems appropriate for me to mention here the UK’s latest lesbian girl band, Greymatter. Well worth a look.


Thursday, June 01, 2006

Watch Fundamentalists

This is very exciting – as if watching clips of my favourite lesbian shows online wasn’t enough for a girl who is meant to be revising, it appears that “God Hates Fags” have also discovered the wonder of YouTube, or at least their opposition have.

This surprised me because I didn’t find them myself; it was forwarded to me on myspace by some school people. Good to see not only gays see the outrageous actions of this organisation as what they are.

I’m not a Christian hater, the only Christians I really hate are those who preach hate at something they do not and can not understand. I am pleased to link here to Straight, Not Narrow, an excellent blog that shows that gays and Christians can work together in harmony.

But before you go there, sit back and take a moment to watch the stage show that is ‘God Hates Fags’, protesting at a soldier’s funeral.