Right- rather than get all nostalgic again like a clumsy combination of John Major and Alf Garnett, I will return to the month's chief topic: sexuality.
I've already said that history has been dominated by the conflict between Benji's metrosexuals and so called "retrosexuals". The definition of these is pretty subjective. For example, in Coventry you're classed as "a bit of a gayboy" if you've still got all your front teeth or if you actually move your mouth when you talk. Horses for courses I guess...
Talking of horses, the “sport” of bullfighting makes a very interesting case study of this battle of the sexes: excitable retrosexuals, lobotomised by sangria, applauding either a guy in frills with a carpet or a mounted chap in frills as a bull is gradually given a lingering and quite silly death.
Most Spanish cities have a bull ring. Unlike the one in Birmingham it's often actually used for its advertised purpose. Not a TK Maxx in sight. Men with lances attempt to put horny sticks in the bull to make it angry (and make it bleed A LOT) so that senor Matador can come and finish it off with a sword and a red rag. The reason for cape being red is so that the blood won't show up- not to anger the bull, which is colour-blind and would probably rather get him in the arse anyway.
The same blokes who turn up to watch monster trucks or aussie rules football in other countries seem to enjoy bullfighting. But what about the guy they're watching? His clothes are velvet, his movements are dainty, and his hair is so firmly waxed even a bull's horn won't dislodge it from his bonce. So the retrosexuals idolise the metrosexual matador.
Evidence like this has led me to the conclusion that we live in a metrosexual world and the skinhead with more Y chromosomes than front teeth is his serf. Retrosexuals may hate “men who moisturise” but they’ll still worship them, whether on the football field, in music or in a bullfight.
Here's a typical conversation you might overhear in a Coventry pub, that illustrates why metrosexuals rule the roost.
"Steve's a right fuckin gayboy innee?"
"Fuckin yeah. Fuckin...gay. Fuckin..."
"By the bye- did you get them Elton John tickets for Friday?"
"Indeedy I did. He's really quite spiffing isn't he?"
Benji takes the top slice off a cress sandwich and calls it smorgasbord, but I go that extra mile- regardless of the consequences for my arteries...
-My street is too French-sounding, I plan to rename it. If more people join my German supporters group than Benji's swedish group I will not only change my name permanently to something Germanic but I will neck a pint of sauerkraut as well and post the resultant video on youtube.
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