January 12th, 2004

This IS me (by schwitters)Default

There's No 'I' In 'TEAM', But There Are Two In 'FIVE-A-SIDE'

There, I knew dragging myself out of bed on Sunday morning for two hours' football practice would be good karma.

I've just had a superb evening's 5-a-side; not only did we win both our games, the second by a hefty margin, but I scored a goal I scored a goal I scored a goal. AFAIR the first time I've ever done so in a match situation, and made all the more impressive by the fact that I was playing left back at the time :)
  • Current Music
    I Only Want To Be With You - Dusty Springfield
This IS me (by schwitters)Default

People Are Strange

tippus, that entrepreneurial mastermind, has been further dragging the fandom into disrepute by persuading London nightclubs that they want to host furry-themed evenings. Accordingly on Saturday night klepsydra, her other half and I got facepainted (Kleps and Simon as a leopard and snow leopard respectively) and joined T. and his leopard-print leotard for fun and frolics at what I learned belatedly when I took a casual peek at their website on the preceding evening was actually a fetish club.

(Not a worksafe link, folks, but if you need to be told that you probably ought to be sacked.)

The website also reckoned Saturday was to be strap-on night rather than furry. Hmm, does a prosthetic tail count?

Now, I am not, unless you count my lifelong predeliction for trenchcoats, a fetishy kinda guy. (Heck, I'm not really a clubbing kinda guy. 11 PM generally finds me making definite bedward motions, if not already curled up with a plush companion or two and a Biggles adventure, rather than preparing to paint the town a pleasing shade of scarlet.) The only item of rubberware you will find in my wardrobe is the button on my rugby shirt, and I haven't worn a uniform since I quit the Air Training Corps.

Lucky I've got a collar and lead, really.

Tippus's cozzie, complete with vast furry booties, was a wild success as usual, and he was undoubtedly on to a sure thing with the topless bunnygirl until the rest of us got sick of the loud music and dragged him home. I stuck mostly with my own little group, drinking Smirnoff Ice through a straw and trying not to stare; though everyone I spoke to was friendly enough, especially the bodypainter done up as the Devil, I worried about the etiquette. If I said to someone 'Wow, I really like your spiked collar', for instance, would I actually be implying that I wanted to lick their shoes while they spanked me with a small but serviceable cat-o-nine-tails?

To be honest, I felt a little like Arthur Dent at Milliways:
"The people! The things!"
"The things are also people."
"The people! The other people!"
Still, it's good to know that dressing up as an anthropomorphic husky appears just as perverse and odd to other folks as going out for the evening in a gasmask and no knickers does to me.
  • Current Mood
    weird weird