THEGAYUK

Category: Gay Life

  • So what’s it like going on a nude beach for the first time?

    It has to be said. I’m a never nude.

    CREDIT: Jake Hook / THEGAYUK

    While my boyfriend takes almost every possible moment to whip his clothes off, I’m happy to keep it AbFab Saffy. He says I’m the only person he knows who dresses up to go to bed.

    So the idea of a nudist beach outing isn’t a natural fit for me, my Irish Roman Catholic never-naked family upbringing means that nudity to me is best kept in the dark. But as I’ve always said, “don’t say no, till you give it go”. So on a trip to Australia, I relented to my nagging boyfriend, who had heard there was a gay nude beach somewhere on the shores of Sydney.

    We were 9,445 miles away. No one I know would be there, and at 26 years-old I was in my prime.

    Early one morning, we took a ferry to the Toronga Zoo and walked for what seemed like hours. With every step, my protestations got louder and more pronounced. “Did we really need to do this”, “There’s a perfectly nice, findable beach in Manly”, “What’s so special about getting naked anyway?”

    Finally, we found it. Opening up in front of us was a naked haven. It was less of a beach and more of a cove of smooth rocks, facing towards the sea. A bit like a penguin exhibit at a zoo. Numerous, well-placed, seemingly naturally occurring outcroppings of smoothish rocks, perfect for spreading out a towel and basking beneath the Aussie sun. It looked perfect. It looked secluded. At each end, there was a high wall of rocks and thick bush add to the seclusion. Perfect.

    My boyfriend’s little eyes lit up like it was Christmas, Easter, Valentines, New Year’s and Wirral Appreciation Day (he’s from Wirral) all in one. He started removing items of clothes as we picked our way across the rocks to find somewhere to settle.

    I started casually glancing around, more to make sure I had a good footing on the rocks, rather than goggling the naked men on show. There were penises everywhere.

    Some were casually flopping over the owner’s knees, some were neatly nestled in a well-groomed nest of pubic hair. All attached to perfectly bronzed and toned bodies.

    We had found a spot to make camp, my boyfriend literally ran off towards the ocean.

    I was left to undress and sink lower into my own self-loathing.

    I could feel expectant eyes around me. I was, still dressed, very much so. So I began to peel off an item of clothing one item at a time. It was like a very slow, very bizarre Victorian striptease. First flip-flop, second flip-flop and so on until it was just my underwear and nakedness. I was eking out every moment of clothed protection.

    Finally, with my undies still on, I rooted around in my rucksack for my book. It was chunky. In what can only be described as pure magic, I whipped off my undies and firmly placed the book in front of the crown jewels in one swift, deft move. I was naked save for the book. I looked around to see if there had been any signs of approval from the expectant eyes, but they had long bored of my antics and were distracting themselves in other ways.

    I pretended to thumb through my book. My boyfriend called for me to come down to the ocean.

    Could I?

    Could I walk to the ocean… exposed? Between where I was sitting and the shore there must have been about ten meters of rocks.

    Sod it. Do it. What’s the worst that could happen?

    Beneath my book, I gave my little Mr a tug. It’s the tugging that all men give themselves when you need a little something more. You know, in the right circumstances, you add a couple of inches to a flaccid knob.

    Finally, appeased by the length, I remove my book stand up. I blind everyone. My pale never nude body is so bright I’m sure it can be seen from space.

    I feel eyes on me. “Turn it around Jake, turn it around”, I coo to myself. In my mind, Sade’s “Smooth Operator” is playing, as I slink towards the shoreline. Not wanting to rush, I make sure each step is sure and solid. My boyfriend is seven meters away from me. He’s waving at me, encouraging me to come to the water’s edge. He’s waist deep in the water and he’s been playing catch with some others that are in the sea. It looks fun. I want to join them.

    I continue to walk towards the sea. Why did we settle so far back from the shore? I’m five metres away now.

    Four meters… and then, I hear voices. These aren’t the subdued mumbles of the cove’s current inhabitants. No, I can hear children’s laughter and a general hubbub. I can hear a tannoy announcement. I can hear the churning of water from a propeller. From the left side of the cove, a tourist boat’s bow begins to appear.

    I’m three meters from the water now. More and more of the boat begins to show. It’s big. Actually, it’s massive. And there are lots of people on it. All of them with cameras pointed in the direction of the beach. The boat seems so close I’m sure I can hear the individual shutters of a hundred cameras firing.

    Forgetting Sade and my careful footing, I make a dash for the water. Gazzele like, I spring over the last few rocks and dive.

    Into 3 inches of water.

    My pasty ass isn’t even covered with water.

    The tourist boat continues its slow-paced chugging, its slow speed is mocking me. The cameras are still clicking. Eventually, it disappears around the cove. My boyfriend is almost drowning with laughter. The expectant eyes, attached to waspy mouths are saying something… I think I can hear “oh look, a floating pomme”.

    I die.

  • Sydney’s Mardi Gras: colourful pride born from a night of violence<

    Forty years ago a group of gay and lesbian activists took to the Sydney streets for a night of celebration following a day of political protest, but police intervened, brutally beating dozens of partygoers. (more…)

  • OPINION | It may not be an obligation to learn LGBT history, but you really should

    OPINION | It may not be an obligation to learn LGBT history, but you really should

    Next year sees the 50th anniversary of The Stonewall Riots, which I’ve written about before here, yet still, there are some people out there who feel that the younger generation doesn’t need to care about the violent history of struggling for gay rights because they are too busy having a good time.

    “What they fail to understand is that they can have that “good time” because of countless LGBT+ men and women who have lived through hell and to this day still fight to protect the rights of the community.”

    Having a fluff piece opinion that completely misses the point of what Pride stands for is utterly disgraceful. And it saddens me that people who are only a few years younger than me have absolutely no clue about why that is. I have a huge amount of respect for the generations that gave me the rights I have today, and I also understand exactly why they would get angry at a group of gays who don’t show that level of respect or a willingness to learn about their own community’s history.

    They aren’t asking anyone to know every tiny little detail about gay history, but a basic knowledge of the big events certainly wouldn’t go amiss. Just to afford these brave men and women from all walks of life an iota of dignity and a thank you. An unsettling thing that I have been witness to, is when an older generation LGBT+ person is in a bar or club, and the younger gays either laugh at them, ignore them or worse, insult them and say they shouldn’t be there and even call them gross. We’re not asking you to hook up with them, we’re asking you to acknowledge them.

    Embed from Getty Images

    You don’t even need to make a song and dance about it, just be willing to talk to them if they talk to you. You never know, you could make a new friend. One has to remember that it was only in 1967 that homosexual acts were decriminalised in the UK. There are people alive today that lived through the fear that they could be arrested, simply for being who they are and to see younger people completely ignore that fact because they are too busy having fun must really hurt them.

    Men and women in the UK were some of the earliest to form well organised groups such as the Homosexual Law Reform Society, (founded in 1958) which surprisingly was started by many non-homosexual members, such as Sir Stephen Spender and MP Kenneth Younger and the Campaign for Homosexual Equality, an offshoot of the HLRS founded in Manchester in 1964 by more prominently homosexual people like Allan Horsfall and Colin Harvey. It was a direct result of these groups that the 1967 Sexual Offences Act was passed in the UK.

    I don’t pretend to fully understand what it was like because I didn’t live through it, but I have empathy for anyone that did and I’m always willing to be told something new. It helps me grow as a person. And you can be damn sure that next year I will be finding any events that honour and remember the events and people of Stonewall, and I’ll be there waving my rainbow flag with pride and with respect.

    “I’m not for one second saying we shouldn’t have fun, of course, we should.

    Enjoy life, go to the clubs, wear a pair of heels and a dress, sing bad karaoke, have a regrettable hookup at a Pride event, but please stop and think about why these things can be done, and learn from the past.”

    But I digress, why has this irked me so much? It seems like the social media generation has this shocking sense of entitlement, everything is very much “Me, Me, Me and Kylie Jenner” There’s such a disconnect from people, that real and horrifying events are forgotten because they weren’t a Twitter moment. But this stuff happened, and it’s time that they understood who people like Marsha P Johnson, Gilbert Baker and anyone else from that era are.

    I’m not here to belittle the people who subscribe to the social media way of thinking, it is kinda the way of the world now, but I feel that having such a selfish attitude, not only hurts them, it hurts a whole community. Now I’m not for one second saying we shouldn’t have fun, of course, we should. Enjoy life, go to the clubs, wear a pair of heels and a dress, sing bad karaoke, have a regrettable hookup at a Pride event, but please stop and think about why these things can be done, and learn from the past. There’s already this underlying feeling of separation within the community if we don’t look or act a certain way.

    We are ALL a part of this beautiful Rainbow Community, let’s treat everyone who is a part of it, or who is an ally, as a friend and learn from each other’s experiences. It’s not a crime to not know something, but it’s a wise choice to educate oneself by talking, being open and learning. It could be something that really opens your eyes to a world that you didn’t know about.

    Seek out the people who can enrich you, learn their story and tell them yours.

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • How similar are you to other gay guys?

    Check out these 12 questions to find out how similar you are to other gay guys!

    Poll may take a moment to load… please wait a mo!

    [socialpoll id=”2163118″ type=”set”]

  • Your Comments: What did you think about James Corden and Harry Styles’ kiss?

    It’s taken the internet by storm, but what do you think about the kiss between Harry Styles and James Corden?

    Use the comments below to have your say

  • Your Comments: Is the term ‘Fag Hag’ offensive?

    The term “fag hag” dates back decades and originated from the US, but in 2017 is it now offensive to use?

    The term “Fag Hag” is a slang phrase that refers to a woman who hangs around and socialises with mostly gay or bisexual men. These women could be characterised as out-going, camp and very accepting of the gay community – but not always.

    Most notable examples of a “fag hag” could be Linda La Hughes in the British sitcom, Gimme Giveme Giveme. US Comedian Margaret Cho has talked in her standup show about being a “fag hag” (but now prefers the term “dick widow” and the legendary performer, Pam Ann has also been described as a “fag hag” by many gay publications.

    Some people find the term offensive, whilst others embrace it… Some consider the phrase a term of endearment, but in 2017 does this phrase need to be used?

    Over to you – use the comments below to let us know your thoughts. Do you find the term offensive? What other terms could be used instead?

  • COMMENT | Move the first brick and the wall of silence tumbles like a House of Cards

    Move the first brick from a wall of silence and it tumbles Like a House of Cards, like the world of Kevin Spacey must be doing right now.

    Anthony Rapp spoke out, feeling empowered following the allegations made against Harvey Weinstein. Rapp’s claims against Kevin Spacey may have unleashed the gay parallel.  Now young men are queuing up, to make disclosure of encounters of predatory behaviour and grooming.

    The Old Vic where Kevin Spacey was artistic director 2004-2015 has set up a confidential email address and is using external advisers.

    It seems the qualifying criteria of being a man under 30 could mean many may have been approached who have yet to come forward, though there is already a steady stream of allegation across 2 continents.

    Will this torrent stop at just Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey or are there other actors and perhaps even female actors who are not sleeping too well at the moment waiting to be contacted by the press to rebut an allegation of predatory or abusive behaviour against them.

    In the UK, we have seen the fall from grace of many a celebrity following the Jimmy Saville allegations and subsequently operation Yew Tree. Is there a need for a similar in-depth investigation into the glitzy underbelly of the American movie world to protect child actors, to protect women, and to protect men?

    The boundaries of decency and morally appropriate behaviour seem to have been crossed. In a world where there is a blurring of the boundaries between fantasy, and reality and life plays out like a “soap opera” is it time for the law to take definitive action and draw the line?

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COMMENT | Why Liverpool is the gayest city in the UK this time of the year

    Liverpool’s cultural history has always been rich, colourful and varied and has all the diversity you would expect of a major international port with a cosmopolitan outlook and long-established trade links to centres of creative activity the world over.

    Liverpool’s LGBTQ presence is well established, active and visible throughout a city which has long been proud of its artistic and cultural heritage and the contribution artists and pioneers such as Holly Johnson, Terence Davies and Brian Epstein have made to both Queer and mainstream popular culture.

    While some might say Liverpool lacks an established ‘gay village’ like Manchester’s Canal Street or Soho in London, savvy local’s will be quick to point out that the much of Liverpool’s city centre is a friendly, welcoming and safe space for LGBTQ locals and visitors alike. Many of the city’s well known and established bars, restaurants and creative spaces have a long history of gay ownership, staffing and management which has always encouraged a diverse and mixed clientele.

    Liverpool has a rapidly growing reputation as a world-class tourist destination having been granted World Heritage Status in recognition of its architectural and cultural importance. The city was also a European Capital of Culture and this major event kick-started a cultural and artistic renaissance which was also instrumental in positioning Liverpool as an important champion of LGBTQ arts and culture for the 21st Century.

    The Liverpool Biennial arts festival attracted a creative crowd from all over the globe, and its Independent fringe events in particular often featured a range of works by LGBTQ artists from Liverpool as well as further afield. Homotopia also originated during this exciting period of Liverpool’s artistic history with the specific aim of focussing on and celebrating LGBTQ art, performance and creativity and has become an essential and internationally significant yearly fixture in the cultural calendar.

    by  James Lawler, co-artistic director of The Gallery

    Find out more about Homotopia, visit their website.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COMMENT | The little cheaty secret the supermarkets don’t want you to know

    I have a lot of pet hates, as you will be aware if you ever get to know me or mistakenly read more than one of the items I write. I may even by now have made your list of pet hates.

    Just been to the local supermarket. It’s perched on a plot of land on the outskirts of the town. Well, of course, it is. Generally, they all are. It is how the High Streets met their untimely end and became what they are today in many places up and down the country. Streets of Barbers, hairdressers, coffee shop shops, branded and unbranded, fast food joints, empty shops and of course the ubiquitous charity shops. Rarely are a butcher’s, bakers, Green Grocers to be seen.

    The supermarket is pretty high on my list of pet hates for the damage it has caused our towns and the trade’s people whose lives it has decimated. Not to mention the heritage it has stolen from children whose futures were to work in the family shop.

    In the Supermarket, I have a deftness of purpose knowing where the single item I have come to purchase is to be found. But halfway down aisle 6 on the right towards the top shelf I realise it is not there! –“Bugger me sideways”- It’s been merchandised. “It’s been what?” I hear you ask.

    Turns out when we get familiar with where to find things and are no longer looking at everything shiny and knew like a kleptomaniac on day release from the asylum, but are blinkered and single-minded to buy what we want; they move it. They call it merchandising so we have to be aware of our surroundings and are tricked into buying more than we came for. So there you have it merchandising on is my list of pet hates, but today it was much worse.

    With a change of weather in the air and the chill of the night ahead, there was a reason for this fervent merchandising activity. It is in preparation of a festive time ahead, beginning with letter “C.” I shall not spell its name whilst it is still October, as it has no place for another 2 months other than to be in memory for its annual usage.

    But no matter, I was not swayed. I purchased my single item; oh and the mince pies do taste very good this year and such value. No, they got me! I bought bloody mince pies too.

  • COMMENT | City Pollution… maybe we need to start from scratch

    Lego City In Traffic Chaos

    I believe the children are the future so the song goes. And it is true. Let’s face it, the young are the ones that are going more forward than me when I’m cold and dead.

    Lego is a fascinating toy. It’s just that it isn’t simply a toy. It’s a learning aid. So much can be achieved from one humble brick added to another and so on. When I worked in the community as an HIV nurse I used Lego as a teaching aid. The choice of colours made it effective. I also used it for a presentation I did for my testicular cancer presentation. Lego is gender proof, ageless and universal.

    Now I have a problem with Lego. All is not good in my spiralling Lego metropolis-on-floor. There is enough housing for all living there. They have access to a snack shop by the side of the road and the petrol station is open 24 hours. There are even 2 postal vans doing the rounds no doubt delivering drunken purchases from Amazon and eBay.

    I’m catered for every eventuality for I have the 4 emergency services. The fire service might be reduced to one rapid response vehicle and two firefighters but my police force is seven vehicles strong with staffing to match. And with seven vehicles comes maintenance so thankfully there is a little garage on the corner.

    Traveling around the city is fraught. There are no traffic lights causing jams. Truth is I haven’t built any. We live in a “give way” city where road rage isn’t a thing.

    At the time the picture was taken, my medical team were busy saving a Lego life. The use of blue lights helped the two-vehicle team cut through the traffic. Thankfully there was room for a nurse in the ambulance to get there with the doctor following by car.

    Traffic in any situation, fictional and real life, is a nuisance. It slows the path of progression in your day to day life. If public transport was better, we might find ourselves using it more (damn it! I don’t have public transport in my Lego city! Dear Santa…)

    We are a lot like my Lego people. We jump in our cars and drive. Usually travelling on our own. Our five-seat capacity hatchbacks all being occupied by one person.

    Now, this is where l have a problem with Lego city. There was a time when the vehicles never took a person. Come the 1980s we soon didn’t have to use our imaginations as to where that person went when they drove to work. All vehicles since then have only had one seat up front.

    In order to cut traffic in Lego Metropolis-On-Floor, I was thinking of getting my people to car share. If we want to teach the future about cutting traffic, pollution and enabling densely populated areas to work better, car sharing might help. Four people into one car equals three fewer cars on the road. I’m quick at maths as you can see. Even two in one would be better.

    Lego doesn’t actually sell such a vehicle so l decided that if l was going to save my citizens of Lego metropolis-on-floor, I’d have to design a new car and then hopefully roll out stiff penalties to those that won’t change or insist on taking their single occupancy cars around my city.

    Having a look around the internet and you find that people have made cars to accommodate more than one person so I set about making a car for Dave and Gary. To reflect their preferences it had to be a two-seater, quite sporty looking and that’s about all l could think of at 2 am on a Saturday when making my two-seater for the lads from “Red Cottage” of Fold-Out Mews.

    Lego cars are four dots across. Lorries are six. The trouble is two Lego people next to each other occupies about seven if you want an intimate car or eight realistically because then the dots line up with their legs and bums.

    We made, we destroyed, we reinvented and eventually I had the 2 seater roadster for Dave and Gary. It ended up eight dots wide. My thinking was that this reflected actual life because cars themselves have got bigger.

    Dave and Gary were overjoyed with their sports car in blue and took to the city. Unheard road rage ensued because it took up the entire width of the road and everything almost ground to a halt. Thankfully the love soon fell out of the sports car for Dave and Gary when they discovered they couldn’t actually get it into the petrol station to refuel. It was then stripped down and made into a garden attraction and gym.

    Suddenly I was thwarted in my own thinking. We all have ideas about how to tackle congestion but to implement it can sometimes be difficult. It needs thinking. It’s more than taxing people and adding costs. It comes from learning, exploring, trailing and making small changes one step at a time.

    At a time where pollution from the car comes under scrutiny again, let’s start at the beginning, let’s start with Lego and build it up from there.

     

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.

  • COMMENT | Are you asking for it, if you go out dressed like that?

    I used to hear the generations who were older than me talking about the way young women dress. They used to say “Is it any surprise if they get attacked or raped? Going out like that; they are asking for it!”

    Now as an older gay man who has spent many years as a publican, I look around and have similar thoughts. Not for women but for young gay men.

    Their conduct, which so often overtly displays their sexuality like a badge of office or some cheap jewellery screams “victim here.”

    So many gay venues are now gay-friendly. Once these places were a haven of safety where we could behave with each other in a manner that was consistent with the law without the fear of some bloke beating the crap out of us when we left. Not anymore; now they’re sometimes a testosterone and alcohol-fueled environment where men are trying to impress women. Gay men can be such easy prey.

    It is our own fault (well, us and technology). The price of getting your rocks off and finding cock is so cheap now. Every gay man is Grindrered up or has some other app. The bars and clubs that were once our seedy sanctuary are now shared. No longer is it safe to cast a gaze around a room from the dance floor whilst snorting Poppers and sipping Babysham. Chances are some hairy arsed ‘erbert is going to ask “You looking at me?”

    The young are so idealistic and think gay rights are a shield of steel that will protect them. Of course, they are not. Gay rights means if you gain consciousness, report the offence to the police and go through the process then some thug may have to answer.

    It’s hard to stand up to someone who battered you unrecognisable last night, someone who has friends, especially when there is a limit to the number of places you go. We don’t all have the choice afforded by big cities.

    Opinions expressed in this article may not reflect those of THEGAYUK, its management or editorial teams. If you’d like to comment or write a comment, opinion or blog piece, please click here.