TG Predictions for 2007

Oo-er, that curry made from week-old turkey didn't agree with me at all. I've been feverishly slipping in and out of conciousness all day.

On the up-side, I've been having some incredibly vivid and accurate visions of the coming year!

Read and take heed.

Television
Realising that "TG sells", Endemol populate the 2007 Big Brother house entirely with transsexuals, genderqueers and bonkers transvestites. The winner will be a tripolar male to female to male to female (MtFtMtF) pantranssexual who smokes constantly, faints when asked anything more complicated than "what's your name?" and speaks at a pitch only audible to dogs.

Births, Marriages and Deaths
The joyous marriage of Becky and Jane is marred when a criminal investigation is launched after eight tranny bridesmaids are "accidentally" poisoned during our wedding rehearsal.

Events
Friction between TV and TS camps descends into sectarian violence during Sparkle. Tempers start to fray on Friday evening when a Northern Concorde meeting is fire-bombed. A group calling themselves the "Provisional TVA" claim responsibility. On Saturday a snide comment about a contestant in Miss Sparkle being "hormone assisted" snowballs into rioting on Princess Street. By Sunday night the area has been brought under control by a joint Roses-Angels peacekeeping force, and work begins on removing the corpses from the canal.

The Web
In late January I finally give up dreaming up original content, and just start wholesale cutting-and-pasting Tranniefesto from 2004. Nobody realises until May. Including Siobhan.

Roses Forum will experiment with a new form of RSS feed that sends forum threads directly into the subscriber's brain. Calls to the Samaritans quadruple overnight.

Science
Theoretical gender scientists discover a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth sex. They provisionally name them Up, Bottom, Xena, Strange, and Joanna.

World Events
Due to the drain on the country's budget (caused by a small but extravagant minority), Finland bans cross-dressing during the hours of daylight. All five Finnish trannies decide to go on holiday during the three effected weeks.

That's all I've got for now. 2007 awaits, let's all get out there and make it happen!

Hooked on phonics

Wanna try something I've been playing with today?

Siobhan's recent flirtation with anagrams reminded me of an idea I had ages ago for a follow up to Flickr Sudoku.

It's called Flickrebus, a rebus being a word puzzle made out of pictures, and Flickr being... well you know what Flickr is.

So having some free time today, I sat down with my well-thumbed copy of The Ladybird Book of Flickr API Programming, and tried to make it work.

I'd like you to beta test, and maybe have a smidgen of fun doing so (though more likely they'll cause teeth-grinding frustration).

There are 5 test puzzles so far. To make it easier for you, these first ones are all names of blogs I frequent.

Here ya go:

Puzzle One

Puzzle Two

Puzzle Three

Puzzle Four

Puzzle Five

A small-print clue to get you started if you're stuck on number one:

The first one is "becky's web": "beer" + "keys" + "web".

Battle of the girl bands

Remember when I got you all to ask me some questions? Well I really do plan to answer them all. Here are some more.

Vicki_cduk asks:
Girls Aloud or the Spice Girls?

With the risk of sounding terribly fuddy-duddy, I suppose I'll have to say the Spice Girls. On the basis that I could identify all of them in a line up, and also hum a few of their tunes.

And of course, they all gave trannies so much to aspire to. What T-girl of a Certain Age can deny wanting to emulate Ginger's frocks, Scary's makeup, Baby's cuteness, Posh's bling or Sporty's... er... energy? (The first person to comment "Not me!!" gets an official BeckysWeb "I don't understand sarcasm" sticker.)

I've got nothing really against Girls Aloud, but I couldn't tell you any of their names without going and looking it up, and can anyone hum "Love Machine"!?

To my colleague...

Hi NorfolkNGood!

Sincere thanks for leaping to the defence of Trannykind in this thread on a forum for Middlesbrough supporters. :-)

Don't worry, I'm not stalking you! When you linked to my site in your mention of your "colleague Simon aka Becky", it caused a spike on my web logs, and I followed it back to it's source.

Of course, now I'm wracking my brains trying to remember anyone at my workplace mentioning they were a Middlesbrough supporter, to figure out who you are. :-/

Anyway, thanks again. And maybe if you're comfortable dropping a hint about who you are, either via email or comment, please do! :-)

12 months 12 posts

2006 was my first full year of blogging, 12 months of stuff from my head transferred onto the web by the miracle of fingers.

As a bit of an early Christmas present I thought I'd share with you some of my favourite posts from the past year, one per month. Okay, so it's not much of a present, but it's nice sometimes to dust-off blog posts that deserve another airing.

Back in January I was in an equally reflective mood, which led me to try and sum up what transvestism is like for me. Reading it again just now, I still feel like that. I've probably dressed less this year than at any time since I first came out, and at the time I was worried that my lack of dressing would lead to a collapse of the cross-dressing "scaffolding" that was holding a lot of my life together, but that hasn't happened. Which is good.

February saw me featured in the premier organ for UK Transvestism, and having a little rant about some of it's more toe-curling features in Working on my Repartee. I popped up again later in the year, which of course meant buying another copy, which also made me squirm. I realise I'm probably not the target market for Repartee, but also I wonder if actually UK trannies get the special interest magazine they deserve.

In March I discovered that blog material can be found in the most unexpected places. Who would have thought that the remainders shelf in WHSmiths would be the source of material for probably my most popular blog entry yet: Conversational Ebonics? Sadly the freakish vanity publisher of "Off The Hook", Protea Publishing, is now defunct. Shame, I used to enjoy perusing their back catalogue!

Earlier that month I'd bought my first Apple Mac after 13 years in the Wintelness, and by April Apple had met me coming the other way by allowing Macs to boot in Windows mode. Something about "dual booting" chimed in my head with transvestism and led me to explain how to dual-boot your gender.

That's probably my favourite kind of blog entry: write about one thing (usually transvestism) by comparing it to something not obviously analogous. I'm not good at writing "straight" blog entries about what's happening in my life or how I feel about something, I need to filter it somehow. There's some good examples of that in May, and also an example of another favourite activity of mine: gently taking the mickey out of Siobhan other trannies, in Now a major motion picture.

Like a lot of trannies, Sparkle was occupying my mind in June. It's rapidly become the UK tranny scene event of the year, and a lot of t-girls have even started making their débuts there. I decided to let them know what they were letting themselves in for by producing a Sparkle Spotter's Guide. Of course, it can be also be used at Trans-mission, Angelic, the Way Out Club...

I had loads of fun in July writing this: Well , I'm enjoying myself, that's the main thing. The title kind of sums up my attitude to blogging really. I post something that I enjoy, and then hope that other people enjoy it too. It would be a lie to say that I blog purely for my own benefit, I like showing off my occasional bursts of cleverness to others. Why blog at all, otherwise?

2006 was the year of Tranny and TV, the silly little non-cartoon I did initially as a parody of the "Mac vs. PC" adverts, which evolved into something that threatened to take over my whole blog for a while. By August they'd started to really his their stride, with one of my personal favourites so far: Pneumatically-breasted Supermodel. I think I managed to get the timing of the last joke just right, which is a tricky thing when you're dealing with inanimate objects in a static strip!

By September Tranny and TV was sapping most of my creative juices, so much so that it's hard for me to choose a favourite non-T&TV post. I did manage to get uncharacteristically ranty about the masses of crap snaps that are the unfortunate by product of combining drunken trannies and digital cameras in dark and sweaty locations.

There was a apparently a resurgence in my tranny levels in October, if the number of pictures of me dressed up that month are anything to go by! I even managed to write a post that ticked all the boxes at once. How to make your own fetish PVC witch costume was humorous (well I thought so), informative (er, kinda) and featured pictures of me in a frock. Result!

Partly this blog has been a quest to answer the question "why?", and in November I nearly cracked it. And all it took was copious amounts of alcohol and a visit to Milton Keynes. I like that post, if only for the phrase "clutching desperately at slippery gobbets of meaning as they skitter giggling into the shadows", which I'd never have dared to use while sober.

If I worked purely by number of comments solicited, there could only be one favourite post in December: the one announcing my engagement to Jane (who has been helpfully plying me with dry roasted peanuts and wine while I compose this). But let's end on a festive note and remind you all of the true meaning of Christmas.

That's it. My year in a nutshell. Re-reading my blog to compose this has been strange. I've never kept a diary before, so being able to dip back into forgotten occurrences and lost states of mind has been a new experience. Enjoyable though.

Well, enjoyable for me. As always, if you also enjoyed it, that's just a bonus.

Merry Christmas everyone. Thanks for reading this year, thanks even more for commenting. Thanks for everything. I love you all. And that's not the wine speaking.

Although it might be the peanuts.

I've created a monster!

The original movie version of Frankenstein is a classic, but the sequel is much better, The Bride of Frankenstein.

I think it's writers were aware of something that I've only recently realised myself:

Brides are scary, scary things.

I've created a monster, and it didn't need any body parts and arcing electricity, it just took a small band of platinum. From the moment it slipped onto Jane's finger something apparently awoke for the first time inside her.

This new Jane has bought magazines with pictures of dresses on them. Jane never buys magazines like that. There's talk of what food we're going to be eating late next year, I'm not sure what I'm having for breakfast tomorrow! She's asking my opinions on stationery!

Stationery!

I've managed 34 years without forming an opinion of stationery. I'm not sure I'm ready to start now.

All this has lead me to realise this truism regarding the difference between trannies and real girls:

When little trannies learn about weddings, they start having the occasional fantasy about big bridal frocks. When little girls learn about weddings, they start planning what colour the napkins will be. And what music will be played at the reception. And where they'll get married.

And fantasize about a big frock.

I'm not complaining, though, honest. :-)

Cutting edge interactive DVD action

Utterly pointless T&TV quiz.

Follow that

I'm not deliberately leaving that last post current until I've squeezed every last congratulatory comment out of it I can (thanks for each of them by the way, I'm truly touched!), it's just that after blogging about something so important it seems frightfully bad form to replace it with the usual mindless drivel. :-)

But the show must go on, so...

...um...

Is anyone else as annoyed at I am with that advert for DAB radios on the BBC? The one where the guy buys his wife a digital radio for their wedding anniversary?

In it, she thanks him for the present but then waits expectantly for her "other" present, because a DAB radio isn't big or expensive enough to compensate for their years of marriage.

Leaving aside the obviously distasteful sentiment that an anniversary present is some form of recompense for being married, and the fact that DAB radios have taken so long to get going they're effectively old-fashioned technology before they've even taken off, this advert annoys me on two levels.

Firstly, it's bollocks to suggest that a DAB radio is a cheap present. They're not, they're still bloody expensive compared to, say, a DVD player.

Secondly, the advert fails completely at it's intended purpose: getting us to buy DAB radios to wean us off our perfectly good analogue sets. Had you been considering buying one as a present (which I presume is the reason a fair number of DAB radios are bought at this time of year), you'd be put off by the suggestion this advert gives that only thoughtless cheapskates give digital radios as gifts.

I suppose that's why the advert writer is working for the BBC and not in the cut-and-thrust world of commercial advertising.

"I've had a great idea for how to sell your product! We make out it's a shitty gift bought only by inconsiderate arseholes in loveless marriages!"

Announcing the engagement of...

... me.

To the beautiful Jane.

I proposed yesterday evening, and she said yes. Which is a relief!

It's funny, I can blog for a page and a half about pointless meaningless things, but when something wonderful, important and life-changing happens I find myself strangely lost for words.

I can sum it all up in one sentence: I'm very happy. :-)

Interference

I've decided my house must be sited on some kind of electromagnetic anomaly, either that or an Indian burial ground.

I've always had odd problems. A few years back the phone used to chirp every time I went into the kitchen. My car radio cuts out when I drive through the archway under my house. My neighbour's wireless mouse makes my mouse cursor move, even when I press that little button on the underside to tell it not to. My kitchen chairs stack themselves in precarious towers when I'm not looking. And over the last year I've been getting intermittent crackling on my cordless phone.

One of those facts might be a lie.

More recently, I've also started to have problems with my broadband connection. It kept going dog-slow for no reason. After a lot of tortuous discussions with Demon and BT I managed to make it go away.

Then it came back again.

I barely use my home phone for dialing out, the line's only really needed for the broadband. I've got Skypeout which is great for calling free in the UK and cheap calls to my bro in Mexico. But the last time I used the landline I noticed the crackling getting worse. So today I decided to do the techy thing and eliminate all the possibilities. Which meant plugging in a old-fashioned corded mobile phone into the main phone socket in my house to avoid all possible other influences on the signal, before I called in BT.

Have you ever tried to buy a bog-standard corded phone these days? It's actually quite hard. Eventually I tracked one down in Argos for £3.50. Bargain.

Got it home, plugged it in. Nothing. Completely dead.

Played with the cables, looked for the on switch, even read the manual (oh the shame!) and it was still silent.

Then I plugged my DECT cordless phone back in, and that's not getting a signal either. So I surmise that my analogue phone line is effectively dead.

But my ADSL broadband still works.

SpooooOOOOooooky.

Gotta go, there's someone talking to me through the static on the telly...

...

...

Hey, hello! Hello, I can't hear you! ... Five... Yes... Yes... I don't know... I don't know.

Tranny and TV go pro?

Alli' Cat asks:
Do you think it would be possible [to make pots of cash from Tranny and TV]?

No, not really. I'd like to think that Tranny and TV is "funny in it's own right" to people who are outside the "TG culture" and unfamiliar with TG behaviour, but I don't think that it would translate well to a wider audience. It would be nice to be proven wrong!

But I'd need to churn them out to a higher level of quality, and a lot quicker!

There's one in the pipeline at the moment that's taking ages, but it should be ready soon.

Actually there are the vaguest of vague plans for Tranny and TV to
turn up in print, but don't hold your breath. :-)

Morphine Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée, and Provocative Clowns

I'm fortunate to share an office with a colleague with who matches me in wit (decide for yourself whether that's a good thing or not), and we have some great free-form conversations on all kinds of topics.

Just two genuine examples from today alone:

K: Can you get addicted to cough mixture?
Me: Probably, there are people who get addicted to stuff like Kaolin and Morphine.
K: You don't see that in the chemists anymore.
Me: Probably because of the morphine.
K: Do you think they used real morphine? I thought it was just the name. Perhaps that's why they got rid of it. The EU probably banned it.
Me: What, you mean like it could only be called morphine if it comes from the Morphine region of France, or something?

And...

K: It says in the paper that this murderer is the biggest prostitute serial killer since the Yorkshire Ripper. Why do they say "prostitute serial killer"? You never see "clown serial killer" or anything like that.
Me: Probably because clowns don't tend to hang around outside at night in the dark. They tend to go home.
K: Yes, but they do dress provocatively!
Me: Well, yeah. Most clowns do look like they need to be punched.
K: There you go then.
Me: I'm just worried about what you have against clowns. I ever hear of a spate of clown murders I'm phoning the police and revealing my suspicions!

...

The days just fly by! :-)

The appliance of schience

Ever eager to bring you news from the cutting edge of tranny technology, I give you The Razor Light that Induces Sleep.

No it's not their "Up All Night" album (ahahaha), I'm talking about a new kind of light-based epilation that rather than zapping hairs to death just sends them gently to sleep.

I love the fact that it's a bunch of researchers in the Netherlands that have patented this laid-back approach. "Hey guys! These lazersh are way too shtrong! Let's jusht shend the hairsh to shleep for a bit!"

Reigniting the colour debate

Pete Johns asks:
Where do you stand on the cheese & onion blue/green debate?

Blue for cheese and onion, green for Salt and Vinegar. Because Salt and Vinegar tastes green and Cheese and Onion tastes blue. It's obvious really.

TV on TV action

This looks legit. If anyone goes for it and becomes rich and famous, remember me!

Jai writes:

Dear Becky,

hi how are you? A bit of a random request I am currently casting and producing a new Channel 5 detective series. I am specifically looking for a transvestite to appear as one of the main parts in one of the episodes. It is paid work and great experience. I have attached a flyer if you or anyone else you know wants one. We are holding a casting day this Thursday in central London, please do get in contact with me asap.

The flyer says:

EVER WANTED TO BE ON TV?

New detective series for major channel needs you!

No previous acting experience necessary. We need your enthusiasm, your energy, your emotion and your TALENT for real life drama!!!

If you think you can rise the challenge, call now to find out when the next London casting is.

Debbie/Jai Tel: 020 7978 5037

Email: casting@mediazoo.tv

Oooh ooh ooh...

... you know I said I had everything I wanted for Christmas?

Well that was before I saw this.

I love eboy stuff! Ooh look... they sell posters on that site. Cool. :-)

The True Meaning

There's one thing I've not talked about much on this blog, and that's my religious beliefs, because it's quite a personal thing to me. But recent events have made me see the need to stand up and be counted amongst my brethren (and sistren, and undecidedthren).

I am, and have always been, a Santaist. I believe in Santa. I was brought up in a strict Santaist household. When I was eight I asked my mother if Santa really existed. I was given a sound hiding and sent to my room for two weeks. Harsh, but it taught me a not to question Santa's existence.

Like all Santaists at this time of year, I'm forced to suffer the attempted hijacking of the Christmas period (or Santerval as we call it in my household) by other religions trying to lay claim to it.

They do this by manipulating mainstream media and culture. By twisting Santaist beliefs and demeaning the image of Santa. Even institutions like the Royal Mail are guilty of this, witness this year's official stamp of Santa shitting down a chimney:



But it's in popular music that the anti-Santaists do the most damage. Everyone knows the most obvious Santa-bashing song, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town", featuring the lyrics "you'd better watch out, you'd better not cry" and "he sees you when you're sleeping". Suggesting that Santa is an fearsome figure who preys on the weak and lurks in the darkness of children's bedrooms, but there are more subtle examples.

Take Slade's perennial hit, "Merry Christmas Everybody". On the surface a cheerful yuletide anthem, but at it's heart deeply anti-Santaist in nature.

Take the opening lines:

Are you hanging up your stocking on the wall?
It's the time that every Santa has a ball.

Harmless enough, you might think, but look closely at the second line. Every Santa has a ball. Suggesting at the outset that there's more than one Santa. But, as we know from the Good Book:

"There is but one Santa and his name is Claus."*
145:12

The song goes on to say:

Do the fairies keep him sober for a day?

Note again the use of words. Not elves, the stalwart heterosexual helpers that we know actually assist Santa in his work at the north pole, but their effeminate cousins, the "fairies".

We know that Santa enjoys a drink or two, and that things might occasionally descend into light horseplay with the workers, but Holder paints a picture of year-round drink-fuelled homosexualist orgies, only curtailed when Santa is "sobered up" enough to fulfil his annual task.

"And you will be one of those Elves, and sit at my right hand, and help look after the reindeer when I am Not About, and you will be played by Dudley Moore in the film."
4:32

Holder goes on:

What will your Daddy do
When he sees your Mama kissin' Santa Claus?

He is now trying to suggest that, as well as rogering fairies for most the year, Santa is also attempting to break up the family unit by making moves on the mother.

"What will your daddy do?" is the question raised, the unspoken but overtly suggested answer being Daddy should kill Santa.

But Holder leaves the worst to the chorus:

Look to the future now
It's only just begun

On Christmas day, any true believer in Santa will be up to their eyeballs in debt and pissed out of their heads. Christmas isn't about looking to the future, the future is credit card bills and hangovers. It's about living in the hedonistic alcoholic present.

And may it always be so.

May the spirit of Santa be with you all this Santerval.

---

*All quotes taken from the 1978 Carry On Christmas Album (Sid James Edition)

All I want for Christmas

Anne asks:

What do you want most for Christmas?

I have everything I want. More of the same. :-)

Short skirts

Jane asks:
Do you believe it is possible to have too short a skirt?

No! I don't think it's possible to have too short a skirt. If you're a short skirt collector for example.

If you're asking whether it's possible to wear too short a skirt, then you're suggesting that there exists a skirt short enough that it would be wrong to wear.

Since I have a scientific mind and believe that it's impossible to prove a negative such as "a too short skirt does not exist", then I reluctantly have to agree that it is theoretically possible to wear too short a skirt.

:-P

Donkey's years ago

Right, best crack on with answering these questions.

Tiffany asks: What's your favorite Christmas carol?

I'd have to go with "Little Donkey". Which goes...

Little Donkey Little Donkey
On the dusty road
Got to keep on plodding onward
With your precious load

Been a long time little donkey
Through the winter's night
Don't give up now little donkey
Bethlehem's in sight

This carol was designed, I think, to be sung by 6-year-old children. In a ridiculously high register, the kind that starts shrill and then rises so that the last words are only audible by dogs.

The reason why it's a favourite is that it triggers a memory from when I was very small and in Mr's Dashfield's bottom set (they probably call it "year two" or something like that now) at Syderstone VC Primary School.

I was a shy little boy (still am), and my voice wasn't heard among the crowd during Nativity practice, as we sung "Silent Night" to Mrs D's enthusiastic piano playing.

So, probably in an effort to "bring me out of my shell", Mrs Dashfield (great name, great teacher) made me stand out in front next to the piano and sing "Little Donkey" solo.

I was terrified, but I did it as best I could.

It was probably the first time in my life that I had a moment of total self-awareness. I distinctly remember mentally looking down on myself. A little boy in a chunky knit brown jumper with zig-zag motif. Mop of long hair with a low fringe. Shaky hands clutching the carol book. Tremulously singing his little heart out.

Looking down and thinking...

"Fuck I'm cute."

Okay so I didn't think the word "fuck", I was a polite little lad, but that was the gist of the thought.

It's probably not an unusual thing, small children being able to identify their own cuteness level. It's probably a tool that evolved to assist them with Getting Away With Murder.

But it's stuck in my mind. That's the point I was cutest. It was all downhill from then on. :-)

Fly Linerider, fly!!

I just love this little sledding guy to bits! I think it's his natty red scarf.

Draw him a line and he'll sled it, without question or fear for personal safety. Make him do loop-the-loops and incredible jumps. My personal triumph was getting him to do a mid-air 360 over a gaping chasm and land safely the other side.

It's like a virtual Jackass stunt without the crowd of morons shouting "dude I can't believe you did that!" at the end.

Kinda wish I'd done a 2006 advent calendar now, this would have been ideal. But then I would have had to find 23 other wintry-themed fun things, and I've already got my work cut out for me answering all your bleedin' questions! Why do I talk myself into these things?

In other news, don't forget to watch Imagine at 10.35 on BBC One tonight, featuring a Second-Live performance by Deathline, and a Virtual Yentob created by avatar stylist to the stars, Siobhan "Three Names" Curran.

Are you actually going to answer these questions any time soon?

(Question submitted by: Helen G, in response to this post.)

Yes.

...

One down, 47 to go. :-)

We are ze ones asking ze questions, Becky!

I've spent the last hour taking a day's activity logs for this site and pummelling it in Excel until it told me how many unique IP addresses accessed my atom feed, basically to find out how many people are subscribing to my blog.

The answer was (rounding to the nearest dozen) lots.

So, in an effort to get you all to say hello, and also hopefully provide me with blogging material for several weeks to come, I want you to do something for me.

Ask me a question. It can be anything you like. I'll try to answer it. Every one of them. Eventually. :-)

Or, if you prefer, just suggest a title for a blog post. But, like Gordon, I'm not the kind of person who steals ideas! (ahem)

One rule: you can't be anonymous, if you don't want to use your real name, make something up.

Remember, this is basically me massaging my ego by getting everyone to comment on this blog entry. This includes you. So if I don't get lots of responses I'll stop blogging and go into a sulk. And you don't want that, do you? ;-)

Possibilities

One of the ideas that offshoots from quantum theory is that every possible outcome to a situation occurs somewhere, in infinite alternate realities alongside our own.

In one of these I did turn to the guy standing inches away from me in a crowded Norwich Park-and-Ride bus, grab him by the collar and shout "stop coughing on me, and stop making that schhnnnnnnuck noise every few seconds and blow your f*cking nose like a grown-up!"

In that universe I possibly don't have a headache and a tell-tale tickle in the back of my throat.

Still, I survived. Apart from Man With Cold the journey into Norwich was remarkably stress-free, and Jane and I made a sizeable dents in the Christmas shopping list. Yay!

Ahahahahaha

Yeah, I know, the jokes are shit. That's the point. :-)

And unless you're British and over 25 you probably won't get it at all. ;-)