Hoo ha, HOO HA!! Unusually we are already wet. The return of Bananarama pales in comparison. Maybe Keren & Sarah should lez it up for kicks? Rebecca De Mornay's waiting....
[Rubbish music on: Let It Play (Deep South Remix) - Kujay Dada ]
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Rubbish Gays Welcomes Back Rubbish Lesbians
Hoo ha, HOO HA!! Unusually we are already wet. The return of Bananarama pales in comparison. Maybe Keren & Sarah should lez it up for kicks? Rebecca De Mornay's waiting....
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Rubbish Say War (Hide yourself)
Regular readers will know we have a thing for Frankie Goes To Hollywood, on K this turns into an unhealthy obsession. Needless to K, we have been off it lately and made an alarming discovery. Frankie are back, in a half arsed fashion. Unlike the return of Bananarama this 'return' is nout to wank over.
Anyone who saw the VH1 Bands Reunited, read the Saint Holly Johnson book 'A Bone In My Flute', or knows anything about anything, will already know FGTH were really only Saint Holly. The remaining band members pretended to play instruments, while Paul Rutherford did a clone version of Bez IE wanking about on stage with a 'tache looking like Magnum P.I. gone wrong. 'So Rubbish Gay, is this the original FGTH lineup?' Is it fuck!! Saint Holly has been wise to avoid all contact with this bunch of old scally naffs, leaving the four remaining members in a pickle. Obviously the lure of five dolla proved too much for this Spacktastic Four, see Queen & INXS for further information on 'The lead singers gone, we are well fucked', so a new frontman seems to have been scraped from the bottom of a tard barrel.
Looking like a pervy nephew and his funny uncles this is the 'NEW' Frankie. Do you remember me? Who is this grim queen? We needed to know. Seems Saint Hollys replacement is 28 year old Ryan Malloy, oh great so she was seven when Relax came out. His credentials? 'A West End singing star (Taboo, Jerry Springer The Opera).' Sounds like a big shiny brown star whose magnitude fades like a flower when compared to say, Darren Gay. Faggy is as faggy does, and this faux Frankie needs a hell of a big circle of shame round it. Where DID you get that ladies top? She's pure Primark.
'We're a long way from home' Yup we fuckin' are but we ain't accepting a lift from these money grabbing jokers. Do yourselves a favour, don't get excited about this 'reunion' it will only lead to trouble and...seat wetting. Saint Holly Johnson once again we salute you for knowing you can NEVER go home again. We once had correspondence from the very man himself, so in a KKKaze last night we mailed him again to let him know how we feel. Fingers & legs crossed we may get a reply. We will be keeping a closer eye on our box from now on.
[Rubbish music on: Rage Hard (Dirty Harry - Remix by Liebrand) - Frankie Goes To Hollywood ]
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Salad Gays
Sometimes in our sexual life we are presented with strange choices. For instance, what do you do in the bed when trade puts a cucumber in your hand? It's no joke, we have been in this position on Friday night. First we laughed, then we put it down. Within 5 minutes we had cleared the building and were racing home.
Never again?!
Three weeks later. Different trade. We hadn't even got to bumming, and he's reaching into the draw for a hot pink dildo. With one hand and a quick movement, dildo trade has lubed it up and shoved it up his ass. Within 5 minutes we had cleared the building and were racing home.
What is wrong with you lads?!? Hmmm?!?! We have a largish cock, it's not as big as a cucumber but its bigger than hot pinks sex toy. It's almost an ass opener, but lately it's been under used. Why does our trade want to waste it in leau of an inanimate object. Who can say? Men are odd, but we can't help loving them *sniff*.
This homo don't play that. So stick yer butt plug/love beads/carrot up yer arse, but don't call us to do it. You sick and jealous perverts.
[Rubbish music on: Eve of the War (Tom Middleton mix) - jeff wayne ]
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Present Tense
A gift that never stops giving. What could that be? A Prisoner Cell Block-H box set? No. A pair of Aussie Bums? Not even close. Syphilis? Almost. Those with eyes cannot have failed to notice the picture above, yes, looking at it will rape your very eyes. Imagine then this 'artifact' in your home, maybe on top of your television. Welcome to our world.
Straight people as we all know are a strange breed, a fact we are normally oblivious too in our gay/spunk bubble. Pretend for a minute you are a non-gay (this will be harder for the lesbos out there). Imagine you know a gay (again, a stretch for you lezzers). Imagine you want to buy this gay a gift. Imagine you have no taste at all. Welcome to our world.
A man/woman couple Rubbish Gays associates with visited earlier on this week. "We have got you a present. " Can you imagine our pure terror at taking this statuette out of bubble wrap? Well we glimpsed the head then handed it over to a senior partner for opening, whilst we died laughing. Straight people like Kelly Osbourne's career are fragile. In light of this the gay 'art' is now sat pride/shame of place on top of the TV.
After many days, the many, many details on this artwork were discovered. The 'young' one is wearing an ID bracelet. hes called Jamie. Hmmmm. Their jeans have rips at the back, dirty. The gay 'daddy' has a crap chest tattoo, and neither of then has horny/name brand underwear.
WARNING. Gays beware!! You may think you have been accepted by your so-called straight mates, as did we, but like resident evil/Elton John there is horror around every corner. Protect yourselves! Go minimalist! Do NOT endure like we have, a pervy gay dad/son nick-nack/crip-crap with 4 silvery eyes looking at us watching Trisha. END OF WARNING.
[Rubbish Porn on: Scally Boy Orgy - Triga ]
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Gaytime TV
.
Not since we were hooked on S Club 8 has Rubbish Gays had more inappropriate feelings about the young. Neighbours. Can we talk? Or rather can we wank while watching and NOT feel bad by the time Doctors starts. Whats brought all this on birdbath? A look above to this dishy spunk may answer a few awkward questions. This is Boyd Hilton, real name, who cares, lives in Ramsey Street and hangs out with a faux lesbo. Normally he can be found wearing a capped sleeve T-shirt, being fussy about food and pissing off his girlfriend. Hmm sounds a bit poofy to us. On the plus side the plot finds him training for a body building competition, we know, even better. So twice a weekday our trackies are tenting. Is this wrong? We never had thoughts like this about Mike or Scott. As age sets in our perv factor has seemed to crank up a notch. We like to watch.
Our top tip though is - BE READY TO CLOSE EYES WHILE GRATIFYING SELF, PAUL, HAROLD OR LOU CAN EASILY AFFECT YOUR AFTERNOON GLORY.
Not since we were hooked on S Club 8 has Rubbish Gays had more inappropriate feelings about the young. Neighbours. Can we talk? Or rather can we wank while watching and NOT feel bad by the time Doctors starts. Whats brought all this on birdbath? A look above to this dishy spunk may answer a few awkward questions. This is Boyd Hilton, real name, who cares, lives in Ramsey Street and hangs out with a faux lesbo. Normally he can be found wearing a capped sleeve T-shirt, being fussy about food and pissing off his girlfriend. Hmm sounds a bit poofy to us. On the plus side the plot finds him training for a body building competition, we know, even better. So twice a weekday our trackies are tenting. Is this wrong? We never had thoughts like this about Mike or Scott. As age sets in our perv factor has seemed to crank up a notch. We like to watch.
Our top tip though is - BE READY TO CLOSE EYES WHILE GRATIFYING SELF, PAUL, HAROLD OR LOU CAN EASILY AFFECT YOUR AFTERNOON GLORY.
[Rubbish TV on Footballers Wive$ - ITV1 ]
Friday, March 18, 2005
Bi Spirits
Lulu, she's as annoying as she is Scottish. Always trying to get in on the act with the gays. Anyhoo, our random quest to rid the world of Lulu drew us to our new favorite TV shows website High Spirits with Shirley Ghostman. Here we can ask the 'other' side questions. Well we asked 'Should we kill Lulu?', and this is what we recieved, Amen!!
[Rubbish music on: Annie - Chewing Gum - ]
Friday, March 11, 2005
Towels Of Endearment
Three weeks ago we were asked to write an 'article' for a new free fag mag. The first issue had already come out. We hate working to a deadline, however the thought of our vile words in print had a masterbatory effect on us. Fast forward to yesterday. The afforementioned rag has been cancelled, the article is now sitting in an abortion bucket somewhere in Leeds. To save you all fishing about, we now present our nearly published piece. You lucky fuckers!!
Hello, you don't know us, but we know you. Call us Rubbish Gay. Readers may not be aware but on the 9th of February 2002, things changed for the UK fag. For it was on this day Will Young won Pop Idol. This crowning of a new queen ushered in a new era for the UKgay. It was finally cool to be gay again. Thank fuck. The lesbian chic movement already old and tired by this point, rolled over and died, and the gays went mainsteam. Churchill once said 'the price of freedom is eternal vigilance'. How true. For every Will Young and Alan Cumming, there is an Andrew from Phixx or a David Furnish. From this spent seed on yesterdays jizz rag, PC access and time on our hands, an idea was born.
Way back in yesterqueer, the day after yestergay, September 2003 Rubbish Gays spunked forth online. Starting more in the 'look at this twat on Gaydar' vein, we soon realised our mission was to hold up a dark mirror to the actual and the media gay. Having tackled such weighty issues as wanking over Brookside, crap gay tattoos and faulty poppers tops, we are glad to finally be seen in print. This fag rag you have in your hands will be our 1st published work. Keep it in your toilet and once read, use to wipe your arse. Shitriture!!
we have been long in the tooth for many a year Rubbish gays has always strived to be be bad so you don't have to be. Since September 2003 we have carved out our own niche online. Our dirty crack can be found at http://rubbishgays.blogspot.com/.
To buisness gents!! The Gay Sauna!! Tradinionally we at Rubbish Gays have always looked down upon the gay sauna, only for old men and perverts, we thought. However something happened on the way to Heaven, blame the drugs, the high gay-youth turn over, or even Kylie, but now everyone is at it. It seems you don't have to be a pervert to visit the bathhouse (but that still helps). Now Mr E Gay is no prude, but we do get nervous in public. Hence our hesitance to visit the bathhouse in the past. That coupled with the inability to say no kept us at an cocks length away for many a moon. What if we are spotted being bummed by a minger? What if.....?
So how after all these years of rejection could we be turned to the dark side, humiliation in a white towel?? Blame Gaydar!! As irritating as the Crazy Frog, any homo on a PC will be drawn like slack jawed yokels by the promise of 'What you want, when you want it'. Normally what we want is light banter, and offers of drugged up sessions. What we get is offers of a cock suck 40 miles away, a drunken bottom or annoying rent boys filling up the java with their slaver.
After an hour in the 'chat room' using the bio-line 'HUNG/VERS 4 SAME WILL TRAVEL 4 CHEMS', we got our third offer, the first two were vile and ignored. 'Come to the sauna, I'll pay you in' hmmmm, like a dirty jigsaw, all the pieces were coming together. So in the name of research, powered by 3 different types of drugs, and armed with our'Get Into Sauna Free' promise, 20 cigarettes and five Britsh pounds we embarked.
Fast forward to us looking uncomfortable in a white towel. Our new Gaydar pal now £18 poorer, but looking much better than his profile, shows us round the sauna. The first thing we see is a fat man in a hot tub, on his own, poppers on the side. Theres a smell, we don't like it. Onward to the lounge. There a motley selection of men, some passed out, some watching Samantha Mumba's Time Machine, others on PCs logged into....Gaydar. So far, no graphic sex requested nor sighted. Damn!! We thought this may happen.
Our guide then takes us through to the actual 'sex' bit. He says there are cabins, themed rooms, widescreen porn and decent music. Well this sounded too good to be true, it was. Lead like a pig on a rope, we followed. There was a room with lots of men wanking, themselves, hmmm. Followed by endless (K not withstanding) succession of tunnels, leading to a couple of slings in the dark. As we stood there, in silence, we realised the slings were occupied, we backed off, Mr E Gay said a prayer. Passing a dark room, we could only see a few white towel blobs moving about. Seems a 'dark room' is just that, but maybe smells more of poppers. For cabin, read shed with wipe-clean matress, porn and a faulty lock. Theme rooms?? What the fuck?? How is scary dentist a theme?
Our tour compleate, Mr E Gay and his trade retired for a bit of cabin fever. Just like the film of the same name, it was poor. It looked good but felt wrong, so wrong. After a brief (no more than 3 inch) incursion into our tour guides arse, it was all over. He was fit, but off his head. We weren't off our head enough. Taking the lead we left for a cigarette. We were alone. Stranded at the Drive-In, etc. We stumbled around aimlesy for an hour like Hellen Keller on acid, only able to make out either tattoos or/and bling on dimley lit skinhead types. With our mojo either not working or not caring, we slipped past the whale in his own juices (hot tub man), and fucked off.
Any conclusions? Still not sure what the fuss is about. The gay sauna is just one new arena for rubbish gays to feel unfortable in. Previously in the clubs, we didn't mind muscle queens, especially if our trainers were better than theirs. Stripped of our pants and footwear and faced with these same spunk/hunks we know we are as good as them, but it doesn't feel it. Curse this puny frame!!
Being and living a Rubbish Gay comes naturally to us. As it does to many of you. We like casual sex, good pop music, recreation drugs and even Colin & Justin, whatever they are on. We know there are more of you out there. We accept our place, normally looking down on you. Trust us, its easier that way. Amen.
We thank you.
Hello, you don't know us, but we know you. Call us Rubbish Gay. Readers may not be aware but on the 9th of February 2002, things changed for the UK fag. For it was on this day Will Young won Pop Idol. This crowning of a new queen ushered in a new era for the UKgay. It was finally cool to be gay again. Thank fuck. The lesbian chic movement already old and tired by this point, rolled over and died, and the gays went mainsteam. Churchill once said 'the price of freedom is eternal vigilance'. How true. For every Will Young and Alan Cumming, there is an Andrew from Phixx or a David Furnish. From this spent seed on yesterdays jizz rag, PC access and time on our hands, an idea was born.
Way back in yesterqueer, the day after yestergay, September 2003 Rubbish Gays spunked forth online. Starting more in the 'look at this twat on Gaydar' vein, we soon realised our mission was to hold up a dark mirror to the actual and the media gay. Having tackled such weighty issues as wanking over Brookside, crap gay tattoos and faulty poppers tops, we are glad to finally be seen in print. This fag rag you have in your hands will be our 1st published work. Keep it in your toilet and once read, use to wipe your arse. Shitriture!!
we have been long in the tooth for many a year Rubbish gays has always strived to be be bad so you don't have to be. Since September 2003 we have carved out our own niche online. Our dirty crack can be found at http://rubbishgays.blogspot.com/.
To buisness gents!! The Gay Sauna!! Tradinionally we at Rubbish Gays have always looked down upon the gay sauna, only for old men and perverts, we thought. However something happened on the way to Heaven, blame the drugs, the high gay-youth turn over, or even Kylie, but now everyone is at it. It seems you don't have to be a pervert to visit the bathhouse (but that still helps). Now Mr E Gay is no prude, but we do get nervous in public. Hence our hesitance to visit the bathhouse in the past. That coupled with the inability to say no kept us at an cocks length away for many a moon. What if we are spotted being bummed by a minger? What if.....?
So how after all these years of rejection could we be turned to the dark side, humiliation in a white towel?? Blame Gaydar!! As irritating as the Crazy Frog, any homo on a PC will be drawn like slack jawed yokels by the promise of 'What you want, when you want it'. Normally what we want is light banter, and offers of drugged up sessions. What we get is offers of a cock suck 40 miles away, a drunken bottom or annoying rent boys filling up the java with their slaver.
After an hour in the 'chat room' using the bio-line 'HUNG/VERS 4 SAME WILL TRAVEL 4 CHEMS', we got our third offer, the first two were vile and ignored. 'Come to the sauna, I'll pay you in' hmmmm, like a dirty jigsaw, all the pieces were coming together. So in the name of research, powered by 3 different types of drugs, and armed with our'Get Into Sauna Free' promise, 20 cigarettes and five Britsh pounds we embarked.
Fast forward to us looking uncomfortable in a white towel. Our new Gaydar pal now £18 poorer, but looking much better than his profile, shows us round the sauna. The first thing we see is a fat man in a hot tub, on his own, poppers on the side. Theres a smell, we don't like it. Onward to the lounge. There a motley selection of men, some passed out, some watching Samantha Mumba's Time Machine, others on PCs logged into....Gaydar. So far, no graphic sex requested nor sighted. Damn!! We thought this may happen.
Our guide then takes us through to the actual 'sex' bit. He says there are cabins, themed rooms, widescreen porn and decent music. Well this sounded too good to be true, it was. Lead like a pig on a rope, we followed. There was a room with lots of men wanking, themselves, hmmm. Followed by endless (K not withstanding) succession of tunnels, leading to a couple of slings in the dark. As we stood there, in silence, we realised the slings were occupied, we backed off, Mr E Gay said a prayer. Passing a dark room, we could only see a few white towel blobs moving about. Seems a 'dark room' is just that, but maybe smells more of poppers. For cabin, read shed with wipe-clean matress, porn and a faulty lock. Theme rooms?? What the fuck?? How is scary dentist a theme?
Our tour compleate, Mr E Gay and his trade retired for a bit of cabin fever. Just like the film of the same name, it was poor. It looked good but felt wrong, so wrong. After a brief (no more than 3 inch) incursion into our tour guides arse, it was all over. He was fit, but off his head. We weren't off our head enough. Taking the lead we left for a cigarette. We were alone. Stranded at the Drive-In, etc. We stumbled around aimlesy for an hour like Hellen Keller on acid, only able to make out either tattoos or/and bling on dimley lit skinhead types. With our mojo either not working or not caring, we slipped past the whale in his own juices (hot tub man), and fucked off.
Any conclusions? Still not sure what the fuss is about. The gay sauna is just one new arena for rubbish gays to feel unfortable in. Previously in the clubs, we didn't mind muscle queens, especially if our trainers were better than theirs. Stripped of our pants and footwear and faced with these same spunk/hunks we know we are as good as them, but it doesn't feel it. Curse this puny frame!!
Being and living a Rubbish Gay comes naturally to us. As it does to many of you. We like casual sex, good pop music, recreation drugs and even Colin & Justin, whatever they are on. We know there are more of you out there. We accept our place, normally looking down on you. Trust us, its easier that way. Amen.
We thank you.
[Rubbish TV on: Trisha - ITV2 - ]
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