So for the C&C Christmas special, I was totes gonna write a post – “The Twelve Gilets of Christmas” – but cut to me getting bed-ridden two days before Christmas (and also not knowing when the ‘twelve days’ actually started). I finally got over the crippling pain in my kidneys (it lasted a whole half day) after what I presume was a bad batch of sugar. So it’s Christmas eve and I’m offered work at local straight bar – LATER. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I loved the rugby player bravadoge and WHY say no to money over Christmas.

WELL. Never have I been told I look like Harry Derbridge or Eminem so much in my life. Really? You look like the lovechild of Noel Gallagher and Courtney Love. Fucking ignorant straight people. Honestly, never had it ripped out of me so bad, guess that just means my skin will be a little thicker for when the paps come. They were ACTUALLY asking to have their picture taken with me; (no I wasn’t in drag, didn’t have a face full of make up and wasn’t in hot pants) – if I was the first gay person they’d ever seen – how goddamn sheltered they must’ve been.

I could’ve said ‘no’ and stropped, but LATER, I posed for photos and played up to it, that photo would be the closest they’d ever come to success! So anyway, ‘Frankie Cocozza’, more like Frankie Cock-nose-a is tapping me every second holding up misel-toe for me to kiss some random, drop me out! The blantently closeted boy was giving me “banter” day and night, I would have the last laugh…

So trust me to find the only gay in the pub packed full of ‘straight’ ruggers. After Frankie Cock-nose-a pulled me to one side and took his banter a little to far, ie attempting to feel me up like a virgin at the school dance; I decided to lead him on just a little.
“I’m hunger for the power…”
“The ball is in my court…” – Rachel Green, Friends.
[Numerous other quotes that could fit in here…]
Cut to him following me out of the pub after my shift finished and literally stalking me like Justin Timberlake in the ‘Cry me a River’ video. THEN… she jumps in MY cab! Hell-NO! It was f*ckin’ Christmas eve and after surviving what was probably malaria and working a shift in ‘no benders bar’ – it twas also the season of giving and this mutha f*cka was up in the only taxi for miles, in the freezing cold.
“I’m Wilhelmina Slater and I don’t do cold, I don’t do cold… You’re Frankie Cocozza” – Picture this. But rather than kicking him to the kurb like Betty White wearing a transparent mac, it twas the season of giving, so I gave as good as I got.

He orders the cab to go back to HIS! I believe this was an invitation to play ‘ball’. Back at his, he’s kissing my neck… I’m kissing a bottle of Rose. Practically dribbling on me like a toddler with a clef-lip. So I give him a kiss on the lips, a glimpse of hope as he saw it, looked him up and down like I was Vanessa Feltz and he was a Krispy Kreme and disappeared into his on-suite. When I returned, he was butt-naked… Perfect. Sprawled out on the bed as if I was his internet Thai bride going to obey instantly, as if I hadn’t hooked a ‘straight’ boy before.

Revenge time: Cut to me CACKLING like Maleficent, Frankie Cock-nose-a shrivels up like a raisin, turns as red as a tomato – I’d never seen one person looks like so many vegetables at once. Except for the Clef-lip whore that works in Nandos, Beckenham – Slut. So the last thing he hears (after the window shattering cackle) is his front door slam, fair play I had to wait thirty five minutes with icicles hanging from my-nozza but it was TOTES worth it! And it’s like the old saying goes; “He who laughs last, laughs gil-longest”

Merry Christmas Frankie Cock-Nose-a! It was a pleasure mugging you off mate!!