Alternative Service

You might have noticed a very slight dip in the frequency of posts here recently, apologies for that!

I'm not promising to improve, because this blog has been about as active as I've been on the tranny scene both online and off over the last year; i.e. not at all. And that's not likely to change any time soon.

But, like a small pilot light, there is a bit of Becky keeping my online presence ticking over. It's a Twitter account called @beckyenverite. I'm quite enjoying the chance to let out the small Becky-related thoughts I have in little 140 character chunks there.

The trouble is there don't seem to be that many fab and groovy tranny types twittering, so I thought I'd mention it to see if I could drum up a few more people to follow!

Older, wiser (but not much).

Ten years ago I wasn't out as a tranny. I wasn't even Becky, she didn't exist back then. But something did come into existence that became an important part of my life in the following years.

That thing was The UK Angels, the TG group formed by a bunch of trannies who wanted to do something a bit more fun than most of the tranny groups around at the time.

It was the Angels forum where I first started to me people like me and it was through the Angels that I learned how to make the simple but scary steps towards having fun as a tranny.

Last night a party was held to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the Angels being formed, and that was a good enough reason as any to dust off the wig, make sure the boobs hadn't fused together, and strut my still serviceably funky stuff.

It felt like it might be the last time. But strangely it turned out to be a series of first times.

First time out as a married person.

First time staying away from home without Tom, which was a bit weird but his grandparents handled the baby-sitting marvelously.

First time meeting some fabulous people I'd never got a chance to meet before packing away Becky for a bit. People like Jenny, Justine, Saffy, and a few more who I'm not going to list exhaustively in case I miss one!

But most importantly, first time of, I think, many more nights out. Not soon, or often. But I think I can handle being an occasional tranny. Because I don't ever want to say "that's the last time I do that". It's too much fun, and although I'm not the person who fought so hard to overcome nerves and shyness to get out all those years ago, I feel I'd be betraying them if I stopped enjoying all the gifts they gave me.

Back out of retirement

... for the first ever last time ever! I shall be de-mothballing Becky (where the fuck did I store my tits?) for the Angels 10th Birthday Bash.

Hope to see you at what could be the first last ever appearance of Becky! (Apart from my 50-date residence at the O2 next year.)

#trannymovies

So here it is, based on a Twitter meme I started a few days ago, and ranked entirely based on my own opinion... the Top Ten Tranny Movies of all time!

10: Falsenail and I
9: Lost in Transformation
8: MAC and Me
7: The Ex-Men
6: Crippling Footwear, Hidden Tackle
5: Frocky
4: My Big Fat Hairy Wedding Dress
3: Dude, Where's my bra?
2: 101 Dilations
1: The Brian, the Itch, and the Wardrobe

Thanks to everyone who took part!

Know when you're beaten

Charlie Brooker stopped writing TVGoHome when real life telly got more ridiculous than anything he could invent.

I think I need to stop trying to satirise Stupid Trannies, in particular the way they interact with the internet. Check out the last comment on this ancient post which was added earlier today.

Someone needs to buy Ms. Anonymous a spacebar.

I'd lend her mine, but it just broke from repeated bashes from my forehead.

Ubiquity

Tranny of the Year Show 2009

And now it's time to join the commentary at the Tranny of the Year Show 2009, live from Sackville Gardens, Manchester.

... fine pair. Oh and welcome to listeners from Becky's Web who've just joined us for what's turning out to be a great competition, isn't that right Terry?

That's right Joppers, and who's this coming out here?

This is "Trixie Froufroupuff" with her owner and wife, Mrs A Jenkins. Appearing for the fourth time at this show.

Trixie resplendant in a vibrantly pink outfit that I believe was modelled on one that Shirley Temple rejected as being "too girly" during the filming of the 1934 film "Baby Take a Bow".

Your knowledge of such things always amazes me Terry. They're setting a good pace around the arena. Petticoats bobbing nicely, head up, nostrils flaring. And, they're coming up to the first obstacle, the Invisibility Test. We may want to remind the listeners at home how this one works, Terry?

Well this is actually more of a test for the owner, Joppers. She must keep perfectly still and allow the tranny to take ALL of the attention from the crowd, effectively making the wife invisible and practically forgotten. I think Mrs Jenkins is doing quite well.

Mrs who?

Quite. Over now to the track where the mincing time trials are well underway. And here comes Genetta Thinklightly up to the final straight ... little bit of undermincing there on the corner, that will cost her valuable minutes ... passing through Gambon now ... still passing through Gambon ... still passing through Gambon ... aaaaaand across the line in two hours forty eight minutes, a new slowness record for non-wet conditions.

Remarkable. Over now to the Men Pretending to be Girls Pretending to Play Cricket finals... and it looks like they're doing a very good job of cocking it up, four wicket keepers!?

Er, I think they've abandoned Pretending to Play Cricket as it wasn't girly enough and they've started Pretending to Play Rounders, Joppers.

Remarkable.

And here comes the bowler, taking a long run up, ball held pathetically between thumb and forefinger like it's a dead kitten... still running ...

Can I just take a moment to thank Mrs Petunia Brown of Weston Super-Mare for this delicious Victoria sponge?

You certainly can Joppers. Here's the throw. Almost totally vertical, hardly any horizontal motion at all. This really is top class throwing like a girl.

The batsgirl is running up to take a swing at it anyway. And she's hit it! Travelling in a slow arc... backwards... to somewhere between Silly Mid Off and Fucking Ridiculous Very Far Off.

That being the new position for the designated fielder waiting at the bar to get the next round of drinks in?

That's right Terry. We've just got time to fit in some of the action at the Tranny Herding trials. What's happening there?

Well it looks like Beatrice Couldntthinkofasurname is attempting to move her small troop of tranny friends from the hotel room, represented by the 3-sided pen, to the tranny club, represented by the mud-filled pit, using only whistles, shouts and thinly veiled threats.

Made all the more difficult when they banned the use of dogs in 2006. Looks like one of the trannies has become distracted by a bit of tinsel hanging from a tree and is separated by the pack... and oh no, one's refusing to leave the pen until she's got her lippy straight. A complete disaster, as usual.

Have we got time for the beauty contest section?

No, they banned us from showing that, for being too degrading. Back to the studio...

Busy

Well, Tom is one month old today, which makes me realise how the days are flying by, unlike my blog posts.

I freely admit that my priorities have changed completely. Jane is a lot better, but I'm still doing a lot of the housework. Once I've cooked dinner, tidied up, watered the garden veg, played with Tom, done my bit with the nappy duty, and finally sat down for some "me time" the last thing I want to do is blog.

... Hang on Tom's crying ...

... Colic. Meh. Where was I? Yeah I don't want to blog, I just want to veg for a bit infront of the telly or an uncomplicated computer game. That and sleep. Ah, blissful uninterrupted sleep. I remember it well.

Sorry for the lack of content. But Beckys Web isn't going anywhere, if that's any consolation!

To cut a long story short...

Thomas arrived yesterday at 12:25pm, via ceasarian section. Jane is recovering well, and the baby is absolutely the best thing ever.

There's a long version of this blog post, but that can be written another day. Right now I just want to get back to the fledgling daddying. Ciao for now!

Danny La Rue

When I was little, Danny La Rue (like anything else to do with boys being girls) was subject to my intense attention.

Like all children, I had hard and fast rules about what girls could do, and what boys could do, and had a great deal of difficulty when people didn't follow those rules. Danny was a man, but he looked like a woman. That took a lot of getting my head around.

Later on, when I started to want to try dressing up myself, people like Danny annoyed me. They were doing it wrong, it wasn't supposed to be easy! Danny La Rue didn't even have a girl's name!

And then, when I did start dressing myself, I realised how amazingly skillful Danny was at what he did. I didn't want to be like him, but I respected and admired what he did.

He died today, aged 81. I can't pretend that I really saw him as a role model, but he was a great entertainer, and by doing what he did with humour and without apology, he did a lot for making all men in frocks more acceptable in the UK.