Right, the first thing you've noticed is probably the fact that I'm wearing stockings. Which is a shame, because I spent about 120 quid on getting my hair and make-up done and all you lot can do is gawp at me legs - honestly, I don't know... The stockings were six pounds - well, I say stockings - they're actually cut down 70 deniers from Boots (three pairs for six ... never let it be said I don't have an eye for a bargain in the hosiery department. I just wish my stylist Keith could learn a little from the nation's favourite pharmacist when it comes to value for money... and, while I think of it, his personal hygiene leaves rather a lot to be desired. But that's another story...)
Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, my clobber. Well, as you can imagine, the question I get asked most often is, "Bob - are you a cross dresser?" To which I invariably reply, "Cross? I'm ruddy livid - have you seen the price of pancake in Superdrug? I'll be reduced to using flour and talcum powder again at this rate - like we used to have to in the 70s..." So I hope that's cleared that one up.
And let's get another thing straight right from the off. I might be dressed like a woman down below in the lingerie department and be wearing enough diamante eye shadow to make Shirley Bassey look like Arnold Schwarzenegger on a particularly manly day, but the rest of me is *all* gentleman, believe me. None of that limp wristed, Julian Clary shenanigans from yours truly - I'm built like a pit prop and hung like a Stevedore if you must know, so none of those Boy George comments when my back is turned, or I'll have you in a half Nelson before you can say "Giant Haystacks is a great big nancy boy with his own personal collection of Barbie Doll memorabilia..."
So, that's the gender confusion cleared up, hopefully. Of course, there's no shame in mincing around like a great tart, reeking of white musk and wearing little more than a camisole and a pair of hold ups (although I'd recommend that you put a couple of extra layers on if you're going to be doing any grouting....that stuff gets everywhere...and takes some shifting...) Besides, there's a great tradition of cross-dressing and female impersonation in this country that stretches right back to the days of music hall. Remember such legendary figures as Rachel Heyhoe-Flint, Ann Widdicombe, Cheryl Cole and George Michael? Well, they have all made laudable attempts to pass themselves off as women at one time or another - indeed, George had me fooled right up until I ran a beautifully manicured nail up the length of his five of clock shadow. Went up like a Swan Vesta it did! But that's another story...
Anyway, I must be off - these eyelashes won't crimp themselves, will they? I'll be updating this site as much as I can over the next few weeks, so hopefully you'll come back often and enjoy your visits as much as I enjoy posting stuff up here.
Have a great week everybody!
L.U.V. on ya,
xxx
Bob
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