A bit of background for clarity...

I'm not quite the raging communist my friends make me out to be. Tinged more pink than red, I have a social conscience and like to wear brown… but that’s as far as it goes.
The son of a staunch unionist, I grew-up with strong political ideals and the appropriate leftist sense of injustice.
My sympathy for maritime workers did not go down too well with other students at agricultural university during the docks strike of 1998. I still yell “scab” as I pass certain trucks headed to the Fremantle Port.
That sense of injustice came in handy when I decided to admit I'm part of the world’s last great minority group – the homosexuals. I came out to myself, my friends and family at the age of 23.
One of my abiding interests is following gay rights issues in the media and online, which is my political exercise now that I'm not involved in an organised party structure.
Okay, so some of the research includes Googling the gardener from Desperate Housewives, but hey, a fellow just has to stay informed!
I spent my childhood on my family’s dairy farm in Perth’s Darling Range. My family bred Jersey cattle and they were my first passion as a youth. I was also incredibly keen on gardening and poultry-fancying. My other pastime was getting picked-on for being gay. Apparently the kids at the local school were better informed than I was.
I exposed many of my interesting talents while in the relative security and isolation of Western Australia’s south-coast, where I lived for four years. I regularly acted with the local repertory and played bagpipes with the local pipe band. (Despite protests).
My secret shame is a massive collection of British comedies – including every episode of such classics as Yes Minister, The Good Life, To The Manor Born and Blackadder. Embarrassingly, I also have a few Carry On films. (And well-hidden stash of Hornblower videos for those quiet nights in).
A “day in the life” account would see me waking-up too late to get to work on time and then deciding I may as well be jolly late as just a bit late, and going back to sleep ‘til Saturday.
I'm a real night-owl – whether I'm at the theatre or the cinema, the pub or the nightclub. And wherever you find me, you’ll tend to find my partner very close by. If I were to commit a burglary, you could assume Adam was driving the get-away car. You could also guarantee we'd bicker about which direction to go in and which one of us had agreed to hold the gun.
Hi, my name is Bolton and this is my blog.