World Mooching

Old old old old blog. New one here. www.dansiron.co.uk

Monday, March 05, 2007

5th March 2007

Well, it took some time but I have found a fab place to live. After trawling round many houses and apartments, some very nice and some not so nice, I have found a great little house in Herne Bay. After visiting on Saturday and meeting Emma and Amber, I was hoping to hear from them with positive news. It is a really bright, little house with everything you could hope for, along with a massive garage underneath. A boys den! While I don't intend to dash in and fill it full of pool tables, pinball machines and multigyms that will never be used, it is great to know that it is there should I get a blast of enthusiasm. Emma and Amber were dead nice and seemed really funny and friendly. Having popped round tonight, I see that they don't mind the odd glass of wine too, so I think we are off to a running start.

There do seem to be millions of people, all zooming around Auckland and looking for somewhere to live. This has lead me to wonder about what freaks and oddballs they must have had to have selected me as the best option! It reminded me about when I was selling my house in Pocklington and had a couple of weird prospective buyers. Firstly, there was the woman that came round and liked it. Then she came again with her 18 year old son. My little house was exactly that, little. She then came back again. Really keen? You would think so. This was only solidified when she came back again and brought her Mother! A little time past and I saw her in a pub and asked if she was going to put an offer in, to which she replied, "I don't think the house is for me but I think you are lovely. Is there any chance that we can be together?" Not much chance love, but thanks for wasting my time!

Then I had a viewer who was older than my Mum, and I had to beat her with a stick to get her to leave!! I am not joking, I can talk, but this woman stayed for an hour and more! She left and I heard nothing until I received a letter through the post adressed to

Mr F.Ireman
1 Millers Row
Chapman.....blah blah blah.

The letter stated that the house was too small for her but that she would love to take me out to dinner if I was interested as she thought I was lovely!

So, with so many oddballs in the world, how Emma and Amber came to decide that I was the best candidate is beyond me. The other people must have been mutants or perhaps they turned the place down!

Incidentally, in previous posts, I mentioned that Scott (Back in UK.....turn it topwise, TOPWISE! missing you mate) had made me attend one of them gym things. Well, I have continued to go but my suspicions have been alerted and raised somewhat. I don't subscribe to the "Gyms are for men who want to pick up men" stereotypes, but it would seem that Les Mills Gym is where men go to pick up other men. Perhaps I should have been alerted to the homosexual nature by the LES in the name but I am assured he was an Olympian. Now I have to stress that I am absolutely heterosexual and that I embrace our homosexual contingent in every way. Well not every way. Not in a naked, cover yourself in jam and get groovey kind of way. But I am ambivolent (not sure about the spelling or the correct usage there) to who wants to buy flowers for whom, who wants to mow which lawn and what team people wish to bat for. It has no effect on me whatsoever. I honestly don't care a toss, if you pardon the expression. Now, as I had been to see Emma and Amber for the first time, I walked down Jervois Road (apparantly pronounced Jervis and not with a French accent*) and down College Hill to pop into Les Mills on the way back to my hotel. There my stereotypes of gyms was fatally altered.

As I entered the locker room (not a euphamism) and was getting changed into my fetching shorts and vest, I heard a voice behind me. Very much a mans voice. A deep mans voice. No shocks there as it was a mens locker room. But what he said sent shivers down my spine. Shivers of fear before you start. I am not going to reconfirm my sexuality at every turn here so take it from me that I am heterosexual. The voice from behind me, WHILE I WAS BENDING OVER TO GET MY TOWEL FROM MY BAG, said....



You've had a long walk, haven't you!


I turned around and was greeted by a man with a smile from ear to ear and eyes that went up and down my scantily clad, lanky, skinny yet wobbly bellied physique! He went on to explain that he had "seen" me on Jervois Road! He had been following me! I know that my appearances in Shortland Street and Budweiser commercials would attract some stalker types, after all my performances were spectacular, but not in the gym, please!

Not one to find fear from people, I made my polite attempts at conversation and left to go and do very manly things like lift wrought iron, push the envelope and max the burn, while taking a refreshing drink of sulphuric acid and chowing down on a light snack of girders(imperceptible nod to Jeffers there). The same man seemed to follow me around the gym, using the same equipment as me! It didn't matter what I went to use, the shoulder press, the hamstring tickler, the bicep bulger, it didn't matter. After my workout I went to the relaxing bit in the steam room, sauna, jacuzzi pool and cool plunge pool. Guess who showed up! I managed to hop from one bit to the next as he was scuttling along, one pace behind me. While heading for a relax in the jacuzzi, I descended the stairs. At this point, I should make it clear that the standard wear for these areas is as God intended. So as I awkwardly tried to hide my modesty and get into the pool, a DIFFERENT man decided to get out. He was like a kid looking for Christmas presents! But I kept my hand in defensive mode and settled down for a chill out in the bubbles.

An old fellah hopped in so I thought I was safe from the camp invasion that seemed intent on US Military Cock and Awe tactics, but he offered me the seat next to him as there was, and I quote, "A lovely powerful jet!" This was getting ridiculous! I am no Brad Pitt** and am not used to this kind of attention! Even the reducing effects of the temperature in the cold pool did not seem to to convince these predators that men were not my bag. Despite trying to hide my walnut whip, these men seemed to think I was fair game for some Metrosexuality. Just as I was beginning to think it couldn't get any worse, Mr "You've had a long walk" got in the pool. I left. You never told me about this bit Woodhall...YOU NEVER TOLD ME ABOUT THIS!

Right...update when I have internet sorted out in my new home.

Dan

*Other names of places are Mangere, not pronouced monjeere as the giggling bus driver informed me but mang-gary
Port Chevalier.....not as in Lawrence Olivier but chandlier.
Whakapapa....you won't believe me but WH is pronouced F. So that is Fuckapapa(honestly how it is said).

**Brad Pitt. A line from Scotty.
"Do you think Jennifer Anistons new boyfriends dare ask if she likes them? Afterall, what is she going to say? "you are no Brad Pitt!"" Nice one mate!

P.S. Got a text from Scott in Thailand. Here it is verbatim.

Hello mate. In Bangkok. Not joking but every time I leave hotel I get 50 women offering me a massage. Tell me honestly mate, is there something wrong with my posture?
I am supposed to be the funny one. You go back to teasing the little gay fellahs in the gym.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

syrely he doth protest too much
who are you trying to convince your straight you or us

2:48 AM  
Blogger International Man of Apathy said...

Aaaaahhhh a comment from one of the cowards from the dyslexic school!


Wlecome to my bolg!

2:52 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

older than your mum....not a wise comment she is going to thump you on your return ,,hee hee

9:20 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

older than your mum....not a wise comment she is going to thump you on your return ,,hee hee

9:20 AM  

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