Slowly and steadily I roll into a “get me outta here” momentum, the dogs are settled and I head off on foot, checking the time, and mapping my route in my head, I decide first stop is at the top of town, for a promised mates errand, on the return leg of this days outing, I pop into one of Brixham’s finest Coffee Shops, the other evening I noticed a Twitter announcement that there were fresh Brownies just coming out their oven, so, I had to tweet back “Must tell you a story about some Brownies I encountered in Amsterdam many years ago”
Fortunately, when I arrived to tell the tale to the proprietress, and expressing a big phew, and far too many ears a listening, we briefly exchanged a conversation dictating that I would write about it to save any actual embarrassment, I then greedily tucked into a warm Cheese Scone and sipped some tea gently out of a Ladies cup, my pinkie finger remained quite reserved as I lifted this fine piece of china up to my lips, no brownies for me, and heres the reason why, not even an honest untouched one made by the lovely Sophie.
I was asked by a friend to accompany him, who was freelancing for Radio Five Live, to attend the 1998 Gay Games in Amsterdam, and of course, anything for a freebie, I accepted. Eight days of events, mayhem and parties happened, on the last evening we were both coerced to go to a closing ceremony, the only pre-condition to gain entry was that we had to be in “fancy dress”. Are you sure he said “fancy dress?” Yes, replied Keith, at least thats what i thought he said. Now, I’ve only ever been to one fancy dress party before, and that was me dressed as “Andy Pandy”, a courtesy taxi ride in a cop car, high jinks put the end of that evenings events right down the pan. So, after much contemplation we tried to hire something, of course, all of Amsterdam was in a party mood, this proved fruitless, however, Keith had an idea, we purchased these items, and we got ourselves ready and headed off to this prestigious event, entry was gained and the drinks were flowing, it was an absolutely outrageous evening, conversation came round that brownies were being passed around, believe it or not folks, at this moment in my life I had NO idea what a brownie was, the first one tasted lovely, slightly earthy, but, definitely chocolatey, the atmosphere became jolly, and loads of luvvies were expressing their happiness with cheeky kisses, I was offered a second, apparantly I remember wondering what all the fuss was about and started giggling.
I was jigging about, doing my “big box, little box’ and enjoying the music, the lights were playing tricks in my head, at that particular time it was wonderful, my mate was laughing at me uncontrollably and said he was enjoying the moment, after eating the third piece of “chunky candy”, someone came over and suggested we shouldn’t attempt to eat anymore as it was strong, strong? STRONG !!… Yes, you guessed it, we were both absolutely obliterated, (Id use the words “twatted, munted or even bolloxed”, but, I don’t know whether I can say that on here) we were aware we had to get back to pack our cases to catch the early departure of “the train of the damned” heading back toward Lyon via Rotterdam to connect with the Eurostar, I have terrible vivid memories of wobbling and sweating like a pig to its own slaughter as we headed back to the sanctuary that was our hotel, worse was to come, the street cleaners were out and about tidying up the detritus from the many revellers, talk about humiliation, goodness knows how we got back to the U.K. Lyon Station was an absolute nightmare, and once onboard the tunnel express, I realised just exactly what we had actually been wearing at the party, we must have looked a sight, …… wet suits, snorkels, masks, and of course, not forgetting the flippers! ….
 Fetish Wear  Chunky Candy (Frasier 2002)  Train of the Damned (2&HalfMen)