October 5, 2018 by Jason Phillips
i was laying in the pile of cushions i had rescued from the skip, in my attic: my new pad. there were friends staying in all my rooms downstairs in the flat so i had recently located into the dusty cavern in the roof.
the first thing i had witnessed on my return from my summer europe jaunt 2 weeks ago, on an old fat arsed tele stuck to the wall of a 1950s hotel in jersey, was a concert by a 80s pop idol. i had flicked through several channels of polite english people talking bollocks and ended up on Kylie live in London, celebrating her 50th birthday with a tour. It was sparkly and gay and absolutely amazing.
Here was a woman we had escalated to super stardom to allow us to let out a deep love we all had in us but were incapable of showing to the actual people in our lives. we had chosen her instead, to direct our unified love upon. so much easier than telling your snoring fart-sack of a husband that you loved him. not only was she the cutest thing ever and an icon for the british, but somehow we had allowed her to get away with these terrible songs, collectively showing that this was something much much deeper than just music. and much needed! being with her allowed us to be with each other and get out our stagnant unexpressed love! it was a community thing. we had all found a way to feel love together and we had chosen this dodgy pop music and beautiful little lady as our vehicle for adoration and good vibes. and she was classy. the perfect british pop idol. no smutt here. madonna may be he queen of pop but kylie was the princess diana of pop. and who wants an old queen flashing her gash at the kids? when you can have a cute princess smiling and dancing and bringing the plebs to tears by her mere presence?
a text had come through from Leo my big gay friend saying our Kylie had taken to stage at 8pm, no support act. fuck.,.. i put on my gayest shirt and slipped through my attic hole and out into the chilly night. outside the venue the place was desolate. no people,. no touts, no chance. i asked one of the door security in a bright yellow tshirt if he had seen any touts. yeh there were loads, Billy was just up there.
Billy? from Cardiff City?
Yes, Billy the Badge he said walking me up the road to find him.
he told me to scour the car park and see if i could see him packing up his merch into his van. after a good look around the arena i came back with nothing. i stepped into the venue and got patted down by a pat butcher / giant haystacks hybrid, despite her gargantuan stature she had the most lovely coy smile and rosy cheeks. a guy was beeping tickets at the next door. he pointed over to the box office.
in front of me there was one young chap being served. i waited a few paces back thinking i’ve got about 30 quid to my name and tickets are 80 quid so why the fuck am i queueing up. then i heard the guy say No no i only need the one thanks,.
The lady looked at him and i could see her ripping a single ticket off a strip of four. i’m intersted in one! i called over to the guy. he turned around and sized me up. erm yeh! sure thing. he said ‘make that two actually’ to the woman. and then when she poked them through the gap in the window he handed me one. i said, how much do i owe you…? desperately hoping it weren’t more than 30 quid. guest list he said.
i put a tenner in the charity box and got beeped through the door with my new friend. Im jack he said., and we shook hands. how the hell you got guest tickets? ah my friend is the bass player in Kylie’s band,. I was supposed to be coming with some other s but came alone in the end. Wow you’ve made my night. we shook hands and as we walked into the main arena he disappeared into the crowd. i looked up and in the middle of the thousands of stumpy welsh people elevated in the middle of them all ,. glowing in a white satin gown stood Kylie. She looked out of this world. Ours. The peoples princess of pop.
Thousands of welsh ladies and gell-haired, snazzy shirted men all shook their bits and looked up with glistening eyeballs. I tucked in to the crowd and got close to the action. a tall chap in a cowboy hat probably in his 50s started rubbing himself on me. i think he was flirting but literally i have no idea how that game works, so may have just been being friendly. but his arse was telling me otherwise.
in the interval i moved to the other side of Kylie’s big catwalk , not only to escape the flirtatious arse but to see if could get a better view of the show.
‘mr Phillips!’ i spun round and there was my old mucker FiFi looking rad as fuck all glistening and faking a kung fu kick at me. we had a huge hug. Kylie came slinking down onto stage dressed in full bikers leathers and absolutely bowled me over. i was speechless. and here were 8000 people all completely in love with this one tiny woman. ‘Slow’ was the song, so sultry and her dancers were slithering about on the floor.
To my family Thanks you for everything … Kylie said, and looked down to the side of her cat walk. ‘But you are all my family’ i turned to Fi, What s she mean? Is her famliy here? YEh said Fi Didnt you know her grandmother is from Bridgend. WHAT! YEh her family roots are Welsh and her new boyfriend is from Caerphilly. WHAT!!!!!
i watched her belt her way through the rest of her set, with her very dramatic dancers, cool as fuck band and tribe of adoring welsh munchkins. she was touched by the crowd- you could see her tears as the screen showed her close up. ‘Especially for you’ was momentous. i cant believe im writing that. and have already had my arse kicked by several friends. so bring it on. I cried at Especially for you. punk rock bitch! beat that Jonny Rotten. you do butter? i do kylie bitch.
the call for the encore shook the walls and the amount of love in the air was huge and palpable and sweaty. you could just poke your tongue out and have a taste of it. and it tasted of CWTCH. (deal with it.)
I fantasized of writing a song for Kylie. and her loving it. and then us falling in love for ever and having the best fun together, even though she was too old for babies, what a shame but still we would have the best life and best fun and it was going to be amazing. and yeh everyone had left and i was still stood there when i snapped out of my dream. yeh you’re a fat bald bat living in an attic with no money and you think you’re gunna pull kylie. yeh we are the plebs. keep dreaming boyo!
i spunked my last pennies on a Kylie t-shirt that sported a huge picture of her face. outside i met up with Leo and his friend Zak. They took me to ‘Hairy Marys’. This was near my home and every time i had walked past it in the last two years, i had looked over in disgust at the noise and mess hanging out of the tacky shithole. but not tonight. no! tonight matthew, i am jason donovan. and i am flying on love!
straight on the double spiced rum. i was on fire. sharp as a razor, id hit that ever sought after happy tipsy feeling. riding the wave! the reason we all drink! the barriers are down and you’re on form and you THE MAN! a girl wobbled over with a frog brothers hair band and hairdo and whispered in to my ear: i fucking hate your hair. i looked at her calmly in the eye and over the pounding kylie tunes whispered ‘it looks like you have a birthday cake on your head. love’ FUCK YOU! she shouted then laughed and hugged me. look out i was on fire. weird, but on fire. and my steven segal pony tail was proving to be a hit. . a woman snuggled up to me and told me she had never seen her husband so happy. he was completely hammered and wiggling his bottom on the dancefloor. you’re in a gay bar, maybe its a sign? we laughed and took some photos and danced. i was THE MAN! leo and zak were chatting in a corner. and we necked more rum.
i noticed a girl on the far podium dressed as a cheerleader and her shape was just beautiful. the way she moved i was mesmerised. as usual when seeing a girl i like, instead of talking to them or dancing with them i went really quiet and hid behind some other people. and then just peaked out at her. breaking my attraction trance a drag queen with the build of a boxer caught my eye. she was proper going for it, real over the top sensual dancing and looking directly at me. i tried to arch my neck round her and try and show that it was the cute girl behind i was interested in. but she was now crouched down licking her fingers. she was caked in make up, had bulging breasts and a tight fitting red dress. her jawline was stronger than mine and she looked like she could beat the holy shit out of me before any love making may take place, or after, or during. or all three. i was terrified. i politely tried to look around her and make it obvious but found this completely impossible as she ripped down her top and exposed two mahoosive perfectly round tits that i could not break eye contact with. she licked the top of her breasts and then put them away and got back up onto her feet and started spinning around. holy fuck, i think i’ve just accidentally pulled a man – with tits. zak had clocked what was going on and was laughing at the fear that was dripping from my face.
i walked leo and zak to a taxi. and then decided id go back into marys alone. i had passed my point of being on form and was slowly devolving into the disco slug. i was now dancing near the cheerleader and her friend, who were having the time of their life, but i was kind of just on my own and awkward. YOUR DISCO NEEEEDS YOU!!! the cheesiest of all kylie songs came on and i hopped on to the podium with the girls and let off big time. then i felt awkward again. i took my phone out as a safety measure and pretended to text. she grabbed it and started laughing! WOW ITS AN ANTIQUE!!! i laughed and then took it off her and continued to not text anyone. i drank more rum.
after Dj Kevin had exhausted the Kylie repetoire he dropped Venga Boys. two 5 foot lads took to the podium facing each other. they looked more star wars / dungeon and dragons than gay icons but they stood there and the whole club stood still. as the beat dropped they busted some crazy foot work, high fiving each other a bit too often. when the beat dropped out again the more teddy like one done like a wave from his left hand up and over his shoulders to his right hand and just froze with his hand near my head and stood still…….. the beat dropped and he didn’t move. everyone looked at me. i reached up and touched his finger and sent the wave along my arms and then back down and then touched his finger again and it sent him into some ecstatic break dancing moves., everyone screaming at them not quite pulling it off but really trying very hard. breakdancing ewoks in the gay bar. Bizarre!
i was buidling up to talk to the cheerleader again but now the room was starting to spin and i was feeling more and more useless and ugly and alone. i walked over to a woman who sat alone and showed her my kylie tshirt and she looked completely freaked out and two blokes come running over as if they were gunna punch me out. i looked up and saw cheerleader leaving with her friend. arm in arm, kissing.
i dragged my hunchback outside and hobbled over to mcdonalds, getting uglier and lonelier with each step. i ordered eight cheeseburgers with no buns. just a pile of meat. i seemed to be mumbling something to myself and i had nothing to say to any of the people in the queue. i was the freak. i came outside,. the streets were empty. i sat on the cold concrete floor and stuffed eight burgers into my mouth at the same time. with all girkins and cheese and sauce dripping onto my lovely white kylie tshirt. i somehow got into my attic hole and rolled around naked. and kicked over my studio and nearly came through the ceiling.
cue a 4 day hangover that turned me into a glum mr bean.
bring on Ocsober.