I've noticed on Faceache this morning a proposed flying formation for "Her Maj's" 90th.
It seems to be based on Aircraft through her Reign, in it I notice are two Vulcans. I thought the last flying Vulcan was retired a couple of years ago!
Last edited by: devonite on Fri 10 Jun 16 at 10:54
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"Queens fly past."
Not what I was expecting from the header! LOL
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>> "Queens fly past."
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>> Not what I was expecting from the header! LOL
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That was my thought - it reminded me of that ditty about the men who put the powder on the noses of the ladies at the court of King Caractacus.
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>> Not what I was expecting from the header!
I had an image of male transvestites sprinting down the road trailing chiffon garments.
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>> I had an image of male transvestites sprinting down the road trailing chiffon garments.
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No Armel.
That would be classified as Drag Racing.
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Ah! - Should have put my glasses on! - I mistook the Typhoon silhouette's for Vulcans!!
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My queens never fly except when mating or swarming.
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Imagine Eddie Izzard in full flight mode..................................... :-0
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Sorry if you've read this before, but many years ago by working as a washer-up in the West End I came into contact with a group of drag queens. Their accounts of their parties and orgies and things were quite an eye-opener to a sheltered background middle class boy like me.
Their boss, a very rich, very foul-mouthed cockney queen bee sort of woman known as 'The Polone', ran the place with a rod of iron and eventually fired me because I was too ill to turn up for work one day. She ran a couple of other coffee houses, also staffed by transvestites and such. I greatly admired her not for her abrasive personality but her car, a gigantic late twenties RR Silver Ghost limousine with lovely yellow windows... I think it belonged to her French aristo husband (bit of Proustian masochism there perhaps) but she hacked it around London.
The drag queens thought I had possibilities as a rent boy, 'No dear, just clients...' But I didn't fancy the métier for one reason or another. Quite a few reasons actually.
Last edited by: Armel Coussine on Sat 11 Jun 16 at 15:36
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The Massed Bands of Her Majesty's Royal Marines showing the Massed Bands of The Brigade Of Guards just how to do it!
(Vide:- Trooping The Colour on Saturday morning).
www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYrfJkzAG7g&feature=youtu.be
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Gaby, the queen bee or 'Polone', looked haggard and unappetising to me, but seduced a fellow Oxbridge washer-up and gave him special privileges. I was sternly told by my then gf that he really really loved the old harridan.
Tsk, honestly. I couldn't goddam believe it.
Sure did like that colossal black Rolls-Royce though. Some people still had a bit of style in those days.
Last edited by: Armel Coussine on Mon 13 Jun 16 at 18:23
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>> Sure did like that colossal black Rolls-Royce though. Some people still had a bit of style in those days.
She used to park it outside the Northumberland Avenue Coffee House, just round the corner from Whitehalll.
The drag queens used to try to flirt with the Whitehall clientèle, shrieking 'OOOOH! In't she vile!' when some serious bearded cat entered. The Whitehall beardies seemed to love it and to flirt in their turn.
Gert, Freda, Cora... I still remember their names. They weren't all that nice, but they were sort of human.
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>> Gert, Freda, Cora... I still remember their names. They weren't all that nice, but they were sort of human.
Freda used to clip her eyelashes with scissors to thicken them. Gert was plain, with a prominent Adam's apple. Cora was famous for the size of her breasts, but rather spoilt the effect by having a beard.
Seems almost hard to believe now, but it's all true. That Rolls-Royce of Gaby's was to die for. Wasted on a woman with such bad attitudes (although she knew a lot of old Surreealists including Anaïs Nin and was well introduced in literary London and Soho). She had met the beat poet Ginsberg, a person I still admire, along with his fellow poet the former New York street urchin Gregory Corso, and judged them a couple of 'caaan'hs'.
Bunch of damn thugs those old Soho folk. Not nice, but funny sometimes.
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Queens fly past. - Mapmaker
