Yeah right he's not gay

Having made it back from his seemingly interminable travels he was looking forward to a quiet weekend. Inconveniently Gay George (Not Actually Gay) was born exactly 30 years ago and his mother (that is Gay George (Not Actually Gay)’s mother not His mother (and no not Mary)) had arranged for him to join the family for a quiet celebration. Now as Gay George (Not Actually Gay)’s sister and her fellow are both in the wine trade the quietness was optimistic.

The evening was planned as supper up in London town with the party being collected by limousine. PINK LIMOUSINE.

The shame passing through the streets of London and the horror at getting out of the car in the sight of others was almost too much for him to bear.
However the fine wine, fine food and finer company quickly salved this and the evening turned into a splendid occasion to mark the birthday of a splendid fellow. Our considerable thanks to his mother for inviting us along to help record the occasion.

Good grief not another holiday

Due to the sheer volume of material and submissions pouring through our doors sadly we are not able to do our usual and report on this day to day but can only offer our readers a brief overview of the fun and games that he had with Boris, Glenn, Daf and Polly.

The egg started to splatter on our hero’s face not long after the journey to Alberta began when he asserted that “Minneapolis (where they were due to change planes) is a pretty small airport, should be no bother getting through there in 40 minutes.” Of course Minneapolis airport is enormous and they had to dash from one end to the other to make their connection and only just did.

On arrival at Calgary airport they threw their kit into the Dodge Durango (enormous truck type affair) and set off for Banff…without a map or asking for directions. Some 50 miles down the road he realised he was heading the wrong way and they had to do a U-turn.

By the time they arrived at their hotel he was convinced that in light of this form the place was bound to be a fleapit. Astonishingly it was not and we can heartily recommend the Douglas Fir resort.

And so the skiing began. Polly and our hero quickly established a pattern of just pointing down the fall line and hoping they could stop at the bottom whilst Dafydd (on only his second trip to the slopes) struggled manfully to keep up meanwhile Boris and Glenn on their boards buzzed around annoyingly.




With the days very full of skiing the evenings were of course filled with eating (mainly elk and caribou) and drinking but also, sadly, a great deal of boasting by Boris about his exploits in Washington. Frankly his efforts to crowbar in references to the young filly were embarrassing. Fortunately for all concerned he turned his ankle over and was in a great deal of pain whilst on the slopes such that he couldn’t face it anymore and flew home early to everyone’s relief (shurely dismay? – ed.).

With all this going on the spectre of Hoots, Sin, Buck, Douglas and the rest of the mad Canucks descending on them was getting more and more real. We remain in a bit of a haze about the precise details of the two nights they spent in town but we think the pictures probably tell the tale.






With a quick trip to Lake Louise for a day snuck into the agenda they were all well and truly knackered and ready for home come the end of the last day’s skiing and whilst the comic gods would dictate that the journey would be a disaster sadly they let us down on this occasion and they all made it home with great ease and convenience (well apart from Polly and Dafydd who had to drive to West Wales but we will gloss over that).

A fantastic trip ending with firm declarations that it must be repeated soon.

Italian Job - Finale

A number of our readers have been asking where the last chapter of this trip has got to well, with apologies for taking a holiday, here it is.

So enamoured of the idea of spending days away from the kids was he following the Sienna trip that he managed to persuade the lovely Dennis to go to Pisa for the day and trek up the Tower. Now he was particularly excited about this having been one of the last people up the Tower back in 1989 before the closed it (we are assured by the engineers that the events are unconnected, we have our doubts) and he fairly bounded up the steps…to about half-way where he nearly had a coronary.

Having enjoyed the view they set about searching the local stores for tasteless tat for their loved ones (shurely delightful souvenirs? –ed.).





With all that excitement all that remained was the journey home. For the mother, sister and nieces this promised to be an epic drive across the Alps and home but for Justin, him and Dennis matters were much more pleasant with a drive to Pisa, plane and train. Until, that is, the train they were on was cancelled (the conductor couldn’t be bothered to come back after tea at Ely station) and they got to spend an hour on a draft East Anglian platform. Lovely.

Churchy's wedding

With just 3 days back in blighty after the Italian trip our poor over-worked hero felt he needed another holiday and conveniently enough his excellent friend Churchy had arranged his wedding to the lovely Nicole (passim) in Washington (DC not Tyne and Wear) for Easter weekend.

The flight over rather resembled a York alumni convention with Glenn, Nigel and TEM (in the posh seats again), Nikki, Christine and her lovely new chap Chris (so good to have her back from the darkside) all checking in.

He was just throwing off the after effects of a dose of the (man) flu and was pleasantly surprised that he managed to sleep the entire way.

With four days in DC and a whole host of various splendid chums flying in (Julian, Sarah and Simon, Boris, Polly and Dafydd and not forgetting Churchy himself) an unforgettable few days was on the cards.

We can say that it delivered. The highlight was of course the wedding and whilst Churchy looked very good in a Stetson Julian looked like he will be starring in Brokeback Mountain 2. It is apparently traditional at American weddings for the bridesmaids and the groomsmen to keep each other company. Boris and others certainly kept that tradition up late into the night/deep into the next morning. The horror that must be being a hotel receptionist at 0300 when a drunk Brit with a Septic floosy on his arm staggers into view enquiring about the hourly rate can only be imagined.

Our hero somewhat cheated and went for an emergency power nap at around 2200 but did manage to return to the fray by 2230.

Meanwhile both he and Glenn were sharing out the largesse and treating the entire party to rounds of drinks. Only later did Boris realise they were charging it all to his room.

Our hero was delighted to meet the lovely Sarah again (passim) although whether she felt quite the same is not known but would seem unlikely.

One would have thought that by night four they would have all calmed down but not a bit of it and they all met up at Christine’s hotel for drinks before going out for supper. Christine was merrily regaling the party with how the manageress was a “f*cking bitch” (at quite high volume) when the said f*cking bitch strolled to their table and said “As it is Easter here are some treats for you”. The clink as the plates touched the table was one of the loudest noises ever heard. As Dafydd put it, “master tactician.”

Supper was at the Palm (a steak house) and of course all the boys insisted on trying to out do each other with the sizes of their steaks…and they were all undone.

Meanwhile our hero was pontificating on his favourite topic, himself. A succession of stories were laid out for the aural pleasure of the diners. None of them can ever be repeated in these pages.

And now he, Glenn, Dafydd, Polly and Boris are all heading up to Canada to get some skiing in. Should be a ball.

Bogun Towers is famous

We here at Bogun Towers are extremely excited to have learnt that we have achieved fame (shurely notoriety? – ed) and The Bogun has been cited at an International conference in Vienna to demonstrate the ways that people represent themselves differently online and in real life.

Of course we have also written a strong letter of protest to make clear that the representation of our hero’s life contained in these pages is entirely accurate. Any further allegations by them that we are anything other than scrupulous in our reportage will lead to serious repercussions. Well we might let them off if the cause is sufficiently glamorous.

Italian Job - Part 6

Having survived a day with the kids he decided to turn the tables and the next day he, his mother and the lovely Dennis set off for Sienna.

We can record that the twisty turny roads through the hills to Sienna in a Fiat Panda with his driving was somewhat stomach turning for his passengers.

However his mother was even less impressed when the arrived at Sienna which is essentially built on the side of several hills. Our long term readers will recall the fun she has with cobbles as well although she did appreciate the duomo.

Italian Job - Part 5

Having somehow survived the day in Florence and the party at the villa afterwards for his mother's birthday his sister and brother in law decided to clear off and dump the kids on our unsuspecting hero. As these photos demonstrate he hated it.

Italian Job - Part 4

The devil does not wear Prada, she wears Mothercare and is called Phoebe. After the quiet time just surviving a lá Ray Mears they decided to head down to Florence to celebrate his mother’s birthday. Having made it there without too many scares, well only one wrong turn, they settled down at one of his favourite restaurants, Le Giostre, for lunch. Phoebe was a mischievous devil and she screamed the place down. Her little sister Evie got the bug and added to the general cacophony.

After a gentle, but not peaceful, stroll past the Duomo and the Palazzo Vecchio they crossed the Arno via the Ponte Vecchio (pausing at a jewellery store to but some things (including some lovely frog cuff-links which Dennis bought him (as he had forgotten to bring some))) and jumped in a taxi back to the cars and headed back to the villa.

A long and tiring but lovely day.

Italian Job - Part 3

His sister and mother decided to head down to the shops to stock up on supplies. Unfortunately their sense of direction is somewhat lacking. Things started poorly when they turned the wrong way down the dirt track leading from the villa. As he and Giuseppe (the man who does) ran frantically after them to stop them one of the tyres blew out.

With a quick hop and a skip that was changed and the girls sent on their way. They got lost.

Meanwhile back at the ranch he was laying fires ready for the second night of survival without gas. He appears to have got the knack of it and they now produce heat instead of smoke. Amazing.

Italian Job - Part 2

The second day started rather poorly as they discovered that the gas had run out just after they had finished showering. Cooking and heating was going to be a challenge without gas.

He of course saw no problems with this and set about doing his best hunter gatherer impression and returned from his sortie with eggs. Before laying a fire in the pizza oven and getting ready to cook in it. He found this quite a challenge which at one stage required him to climb in. He climbed out with most of his hair burnt off.

Nevertheless despite these travails they managed to roast a chicken and enjoy a feast.

Italian Job - Part 1

To celebrate his mother’s 60th birthday he and his sister have decided to take her and the rest of the family away for a week to a villa in Tuscany. The lovely Dennis is also tagging along.

Justin (his brother-in-law), Dennis and he decided to go for the sensible option and fly first thing Saturday morning. His sister, mother and three small nieces took the less sensible option and started driving first thing Friday morning.

The flying division passed swiftly through Stansted to Pisa airport before jumping in a Fiat Panda and driving up into the hills. The land division made rather less good time not helped by the Mont Blanc tunnel being shut to commemorate the fire there a couple of years back.

Eventually the land division turned up some 5 hours after the flying division who had thoughtfully got the shopping in (although Justin and he nearly came to blows, they are not best shopping buddies) and got the fires started.




As things were to turn out the fire lighting practice was to be well needed.
He also got the shopping ready which consisted of hacking the heads and feet off the chickens.
Very manly.