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October-issue-2014October 2014

What a fantastic issue we have for you this month; Douglas Thompson runs away with a Cambodian circus, we have an exclusive interview with dance songster Aiden Leslie, Mariah Carey hits Bangkok and Brian Baxter asks if Clint Eastwood starred in the best gay movie of all time. Homoerotic hunks feature in OUT on TV and Ben Hart provides wise council to those wishing to start a business in the Land of Smiles; OUT iT is your key to success.

There is still time for you to give desperately needed help to The HIV Foundation of Thailand and save their vital operation by going to www.hivfoundation.com. The winners will soon be announced but you can still influence the outcome of the 3rd annual OUT iT Readers’ Choice Awards by visiting www.out-in-thailand.com/awards and your voice will be heard.

James-Barnes


Out This Week

Out-in-Thailand’s Editor in Chief James Barnes: thoughts for the week

 

    The Superior Baby Alternative

    The-superior-baby-alternative

    By James Barnes

    There has been worldwide publicity about surrogacy in Thailand, of late. None of it has been good. The result, we are told, is that there has been a clampdown by the authorities which has made an apparently, relatively, straight forward business, difficult. It is a typical example of how a few greedy and corrupt people can spoil things for the majority and it has affected thousands of would be gay parents all over the world. The Kingdom has, over recent years, become the global capital for gay couples who want to have children and it would seem that their hopes have now been dashed. Not so.

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    I have to come out, again

    Come-out-againBy James Barnes

    I came out as gay when I was eighteen years old. The first person I told was my best friend, Jon, with whom I had enjoyed uncountable encounters of the sexual kind since we were both thirteen. Although we did all the things that friends do and talked about all the things that friends talk about, the sex was never discussed. Sleepovers were organised by us both and the hanky-panky was implicit. I loved it and in a way, I loved him too. I complied with this conspiracy of silence because I sensed that the emotional component was all one way traffic. I got the feeling that as soon as Jon got a girlfriend, the fun would stop. He hadn’t got a girlfriend when I told him I was gay. He never spoke to me again.

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    The Rainbow in Black & White

    The Rainbow in black and whiteBy James Barnes

    If you have gained sufficient years to recall those innocent days, watching ‘Gunsmoke’, ‘Champion the Wonder Horse’ or ‘My Favourite Martian’, you will remember a television world that was all in black and white. Even when that innocence was corrupted as JFK was blown away, there was no colour. Actually, there was very little pure black or white; the monochrome was really a selection of shades in varying greys. Just like the real world. The true attractions of opposites are the areas in between.

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    Playing it safe

    Playing it safe with condoms every time

    By James Barnes

    He turned up, dead on time and his online photographs, which were good, had not done him justice. He was a stunner. All he wanted was a glass of water and a quick shower. Then it was down to business. The body was a gym honed and buffed celebration of sexiness, the face was more than appealing and he started doing things that had not been discussed but hit several bullseyes on my sexual target of personal peccadillos. This was amazing and judging by the involuntary expressions of delight that were emanating from his gorgeous mouth, I was doing something right too. It seemed that we were both determined to extend this exquisite play before embarking on the main event. So we did.

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    Old Habits...cry hard

    old-habits-cry-hardBy James Barnes

    When I was a little boy, crying was not an option. My mother would tell me that big boys don’t cry. To tell her that I was not a big boy would elicit the heartless, ‘Stop crying or I’ll give you something to really cry about.’ This could mean that she’d take off her shoe and crack the top of my head with a stiletto heel- these days, she’d go to jail for it. Father was worse. The only emotion he ever showed was anger and he favoured punching over spanking. Add to all this the fact that in those days, the stiff upper English lip was prerequisite and you get a pretty fucked up picture.

    Going to Catholic schools, taught by sadistic nuns and priests just amplified the misery. With all those tears bottled up, my only chance to be lachrymose was at the cinema. Going to see ‘Born Free’ or ‘Bambi’ or any sentimental tripe, was a legitimate chance to open the floodgates in the dark movie theatre and sob my heart out. And I did. Regularly. Still today, I am far more likely to be tearful because of some TV tragedy or big screen sorrow. Heartbroken last year when I split with my boyfriend of thirteen years, I barely wept.

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