Thursday, 20 September 2018

Wedding planning, penis problems and surviving the Sydney winter


You know what the worst thing about planning your very own big gay Australian wedding is?

The realisation that you're going to be the star of the grand sparkling occasion. Along with your dearly beloved, of course. Who isn't much more pleased about declaring his love in front of all of our nearest and dearest either.

It's not out of shame, but more out of pure embarrassment.







I've been raised watching weddings on the TV filled with joy, love and Katherine Heigl excitably hoarding 27 Dresses. There's dancing, exaggerated drama and dodgy public displays of affection as your employed paparazzi snaps every single moment.

There's just, like, never much mention about how cringe the whole thing is? All them eyes focused on you while you try and conjure up some crowd pleasing words, which will soon be shared across everyone's social media.

As for the first dance? That can fuck off too. I'm a man that can barely do a drunken shuffle and no amount of apparent protocol will get me Strictly Come Dancing on my big day. Sorry, Will.






And then there's the slight problem that my fiancee and I both have penises.

Traditional church ceremonies may be on the out and unique union's between people of all backgrounds and identities may be on the in, but who's going to be the one walking down the isle and who's going to be the one waiting up front?

'I now pronounce you top and bottom,' the person officiating may as well say. Because no matter how we're looking at it, the one doing that slow awkward stroll is essentially seen as 'the bride.'

I may be joking, but it's also true.




As for the actual planning, things are going spectacularly. The majority of decisions were made in one afternoon and we chose the date on a whim after my mum started pestering to book flights. In my opinion, love should feel natural and require no effort, which is the same logic we're applying to our wedding.

William and I will be saying I Do on January 17, 2020.

It'll be an intimate outdoor affair north of Sydney with Nandos doing the catering. Hopefully, I'm open for sponsored posts on this blog for any brands looking, FYI.

With flights to Australia being pricey as fuck and us hosting our nuptials quite literally on the other side of the world, I have no expectations of people from back home coming over especially.

Unless you're a parent or sibling then you best book that bloody flight. But for any friends planning their vactions for your next couple of years, here's your extended notice so you can swing by Sydney.








Other than the very brief wedding planning, there aren't many more updates to share and this travel blog has once again become void of any travel as I've settled back in Sydney following my European jaunt.

I survived the tail end of the Australian winter upon my return, and you know the worst thing about temperatures dropping Down Under is? They just shouldn't. 

Nobody moves to Australia to spend a couple of months with a slight chill. For British people over here, it's almost like the second you step foot off that plane you're entitled to 365 of soaring sunshine or you want your money back.

10 degrees? No fucking thank you, that wasn't on the tour guide. 



Spring has now kicked in though thankfully, shit is getting hot again and most of my days are spent with William and Winston the dog doing absolutely nothing but living our best lives.

It's quite an odd feeling that after over a decade of touring, parties alongside pop stars and shoving myself into the centre of all things showbiz, the thing that keeps me most content is coming home to a man I love and a dog I'd die for.

Bit of a dramatic end that, weren't it?