DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS
It’s Friday night, gay pride weekend.
I just got home after hitting Micky’s, Eleven and The Abbey. I swear to you, it was like being in a fucking petting zoo at a county fair. You don’t really wanna jump inside the cage to pet the animals, but you do it anyway simply because you can (sniff on this). The pretty pride people must be saving themselves for the actual festival.
The Abbey wins the sash tonight for Most Fun. For starters the line was short, it was free, I got carded, the music was high drama, and they even had a cute blond go-go boy that could actually dance—yes, the whiteness eventually kicked in after the DJ wore him out, but pretty go-go boys rarely work so hard. And for good reason: The guy was so busy giving us a flashy routine that he completely forgot to make those dollars stack. Oh so pretty.
I wore my biker boots, because I was in the mood to tower over everyone, but those fuckers made my back hurt so much that my ass was hunched over by the end of the night. What was I thinking? I was going out to dance. It was poor planning on my behalf. Not pretty.
My sober friends guzzled some Redbull to compensate for an expensive fruity alcoholic drink. I’m way past the stage of having to hold a drink in my hand to feel like I fit in. Truth is drinking a Redbull at night rarely perks me up when it’s supposed to count. It usually kicks in at 4am when I’m trying to get some sleep.
Anyway, there’s much more to write, but I’m way too beat. I need to save my energies for tomorrow night. I plan to wear appropriate foot wear this time and tear that shit up.
Goodnight my darrlkins,
PS: Did I mention I was carded?