THE FINAL FRONTIER

(I've been criticised by Gordon for my unoriginal titles, so just thought I'd throw that one in.) And talking of throwing, sorry to greet you all with such a load of vomitus over recent hours and days. Normally I've got the digestion of a horse, if not the man-parts, but - well... auld age disnae come itsel. Burp. Sorry.

Hello everyone. My name's Peter, and I can see I'm the eldest here by at least a decade. Heavens only knows why Big Blogger invited such a boring old fart into the house, unless he's hoping for some Jackie Stallone or John McCririck hot zimmer action.

And talking of action, there's to be none of that in my direction, please. Nantoise - not even if you beg. From the ladies I require nothing more than hair, skin and fashion advice, and the men will be my friend if they regularly tell me I don't look my age.

Got Any Previous?

(Here I must confess I've already met Alan and Gordon.) Ladies - take it from an old pro you might be pleasantly surprised. Give them a whirl - you can always say cheers.) None of you look like you've never seen one before. Or several. Hehe! What a cheeky old goat.

So that leads naturally to mike, my fellow homosexualist. Two queens in one house might at one time have been thought problematic, but it's no longer so. This is the modern age, and we're of vastly different generations, you see. Whilst I've heard mike still has an eye for the main chance, my only tasks these days are to maintain what's left of my hair and teeth. Yes - I'm looking forward to increasing my long internet friendship with young mike, and am even ready to sample all his expensive products. But not the poppers, darling. So very eighties. Recreationals have moved on apace since then - in my neck of the woods, at least.

Here I guess the best we'll get is Victoria Wine slush.

(But worry not - I've managed to smuggle in some very expensive Charlie for us all. As provided by my own private DelBoy, Little Alex.)

Not So Haute Couture

Clothes? I've had a few... but then again...

Do be serious, Peter. You'll frighten your new friends. They won't like you.

Clothes... as you can see - a subtle but stylish mix of charity shop and High Street Asian. I've never been into "labels", as I once read they all come from Indian sweatshops.

In my bag are books, in case you're all too boring, or more likely if I go into a huff, reading glasses... oh - no perfumes or deodorants as they make you smell more, Simple Soap, razor, Fujifilm Finepix 1.3 Megapixels (ample for the internet), metal comb as it's better for the scalp than plastic, Braun electric toothbrush, but not the latest sonic one. It's sonic-free. Toilet roll - (four for the price of two... ) well - you never can be sure it's supplied...

Anyway - that's enough about me. (What a ridiculous notion!) Bits I've missed out I'll put in later. Looking forward to your company, but only up to ten at night. Zed is wonderful too. I'm sure lots more of you are. These seven weeks will be FUN!