(no subject)

I was reminded on Wednesday by some university contemporaries of theirs and mine that The Cling used to have a song called Sodomy.
Given the fondness of several of their current fanbase for boy touching, it seems to me they're missing a trick by not playing it anymore.

"You stress more about biscuits than I do about relationships."

The lovely serious_k took me to gay eighties vampire musical (yes, you can see why I got the invite) Dragula at Heaven last night. Hmmmmmmmm.
I've not been to see any of these back-catalogue musicals, but this is pretty much how I imagine them to be. A series of classics (here a variety of camp eighties tracks, rather than all one band) strung together by a fairly archetypal plot, and the cracks papered over with some pantomime-style audience interaction, emphasising that really everyone's here for a good time rather than art.
And I had a good time, certainly (though perhaps not as good a time as K, simply because she got eyed up by the resident lesbian and I didn't). The singers almost all had very good voices (even the one tasked with covering Frankie's Power of Love managed it with aplomb), some of the jokes were funny, there were even moments when the sweet-boy-seduced-from-lover-by-showbiz plot was actually moving.
However, I was there on a comp, and they're charging more than £20 for this. I didn't have *that* good a time. Had I paid, I might not feel so indulgent towards the performance.
But then, I've never quite understood the public's tastes. Witness that time I bet a friend I'd eat a Duran Duran single if none of the romo bands had a top 30 hit within six months.

Watched hotly-tipped animated sketch show Monkey Dust when I got in. Not bad, but it's far too obvious that they all want to be Chris Morris.

On the tube this morning, someone smelled exactly as my first girlfriend used to when we were together. I'm not sure if it was perfume, shampoo, some combination of the two or what, but it was still strange to have such a visceral reminder, and even more so given I had no idea who it was.

And this is a total disgrace. No one is disputing that the 'victim' consented fully to being killed and eaten. There's not even any suggestion that the killer pressured him - with a previous partner he had got as far as marking out the cuts in marker on his body before the chap (understandably) changed his mind and went home. Even so close to the fruition of his fantasy, he let him go. This man is not a threat to anyone. So what the fvck business is it of the law's?