Monday, 19 June 2017

PrEP Sex

I had my first PrEP sex just before I left Brighton about eighteen months ago.

For the first time in thirty years of sexual encounters no decision or choice about who did (or didn't) put what where was informed by either of our HIV status and whether one of us might be about to harm the other.

It was a glorious and liberating experience. As sex can sometimes be.

The length of time, and money it is taking to get it made available to people who need it is one of the lesser well known scandals of the current crop of scandals.

However, beyond playing a part in getting Green Party policy amended (!) I have done little campaigning on the subject outside my bedroom (and occasionally on Hampstead Heath).

So it was a delight to spend this evening with the sassy, sexy people who are. We were at an Elton John Foundation funded roadshow in east London. I felt I'd gone back to the early days of GMFA. Sitting in a pub, having a cuddle, laughing and joking, informing and challenging, building community and changing the world.

As we left, we were asked to tell two of our friends about PrEP. I've just done that, and if you've read this far then you have to too.

Friday, 16 June 2017

Lib Dem Wittering

Lib Dems have been wittering all over my timeline today.

Seems they chose the wrong leader. Oh, get over yourselves. You're not the first and you won't be the last.

Glad to read they're thinking about a co-leadership arrangement with Jo Somebody or Other and "Strong and Cable" though. Wonder where they got that idea from?

Don't get me wrong. Some of my best friends are LibDems. I cut my political teeth in the 1974 General Elections telling at Polling Stations for the Liberals. As a party they are attractive and they have fantastic councillors up and down the country doing amazing things.

But, and it's a big but. Until their national election strategists disavow deceit, misinformation and lying to voters as legitimate local campaign tools I'll stay where I am thanks.

Tuesday, 13 June 2017

Strong and Stable. Election Reflections.

Here I am. Strong and stable.

It's 1am. I'm in County Clare. Celebrating the lawful marriage of two men.

One of whom is a Roman Catholic priest.

It's all a bit weird and very, very lovely. And indeed, drink had been taken.

This was in March.

Life was going swimmingly.

I was employed and everything.

And then this happened

Bloody woman.

And then this happened

Wonderful woman

And then this happened

Somebody tell me this.

What the fuck does "strong and stable" mean ?