In case you don't read Savage Love

Just thought I would share this from this week's column.

Confidential to everyone: Pearl necklace is out, Cheney is in.

That's my man

So, last night Roomie and I invited DYD and Sweetie over to watch some TV with us. We watched the Project Runway reunion special and then Project Jay. If you haven't been watching Project Runway this season, you are missing out. I think it is just as good, if not better than the first season.

Unlike most reality shows, these people have real talent and are forced to put their skills to the test. They are then judged on their abilities alone, not who is the cutest (Idol I'm looking at you). So, the reunion show was good, a nice mix of clips we never saw and candid interviews with the cast members about key moments this season.

The true highlight of last night though was Project Jay. Thank God Bravo had the sense to give that man his own special. First, he is fucking hysterical. So damn sarcastic. And he is more insightful and crazy than his time on Project Runway ever let on.

Last night he said something to the effect of "I used to wish that I was one of those fit, good-looking people, but then I realized that I would be stupid. And my mind is too beautiful for that". When he said that, I felt like he stole a page right out of one of my old journals! Oh Jay, sweetheart, I feel your pain.

If you haven't seen Project Jay yet, I highly recommend you set your Tivo, or sit your ass down for an hour to catch it during one of the many reruns in the next couple weeks. Quick side note, there is no way that I could function without my Tivo or iPod. Those are the only two "gadgets" that have changed my life so much that I can't imagine NOT having them.

I will leave you with one final though. Go out and read "The City of Falling Angels" by John Berendt, the same man who wrote "Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil". It is a non-fiction book all about Venice, past and present. The story is loosely tied together by the burning down and subsequent rebuilding of the Fenice opera house. It was a really great read. My desire to see Venice has increased one-hundred fold since I read the book. Do yourself a favor and give the book a read.

Sweet the sting

Did you all miss me? It's OK, I know you did. I should start by apologizing for the length of this post. Grab yourself a cup of coffee and bear with me.

I'm sure that those of you I texted while I was pool-side were really missing me. Ft. Lauderdale was an absolute BLAST. The weather could not have been any more perfect. When I got down there, I stepped outside the airport and was slapped in the face with the warm air. It was between 80 - 85 degrees every day, sunny and not a cloud in the sky.

Rodolfo and Matt picked me up from the airport. Why wasn't Jamie with them? Well, at the last minute Jamie had an anxiety attack and decided to drive down. Yes, drive all 18 hours to Ft. Lauderdale. He left Thursday night and got down there Friday afternoon.

The tone of the weekend was set immediately when we went straight from the airport to the liquor store. Rodolfo dropped about $160 on top shelf liquor for our hotel room. I tried to offer him money for the booze, but he refused. This is after he has already paid for my plane ticket and hotel room. Hot. I could definitely get used to being a kept man! Over the entire weekend, I think I spent less than $200.

I suppose I should pause for a minute to tell you about the hotel. We stayed at the Windamar ("What happens at the Windamar, stays at the Windamar"), a gay resort hotel. It was very cute, clean and close to the beach. Did I mention that it was clothing optional??? Yeah, the video promo shows all these young hot guys lying by the pool in little speedos. When we get in there, it is all daddies and granddaddies. Typical.

They were all very nice, but trust me, there were not many people who you wanted to see in a bathing suit, let alone naked. Eh whatever. It just made me all that more comfortable to sun-bath in the buff. Yes, you read that correctly. The boy who LOATHES to take off his shirt at the GL (unless I am completely shit-faced) was sun-bathing nude this weekend. When in Rome . . . It was very liberating and I think there were even a few moments that I experienced complete acceptance of my appearance. Of course those all disappeared as soon as I stepped outside the hotel back to reality.

Friday night, after pregaming for hours, we finally hit the bars around 1 AM. We checked out the Hot Spots guide, provided by the hotel, and decided to try out Boom. After driving around lost for half an hour, we finally found the bar. In a strip mall. But not just any strip mall. Apparently this was a gay strip mall. There were two or three bars, a couple gay clothing stores, and the Social Security Administration. Not sure of the connection there.

God, there is nothing like a good gay bar in strip mall. I'm sure you can imagine the clientele. Boom seemed to me to be the Apex equivalent down there. Lots of young twinks, video bar on one side and dance club on the other. When we were walking in this guy yelled out, look at that whore in the green shirt. Of course he was talking about me, in my green "Rednecks do it better" shirt. I shot back, "Bitch it pays to advertise" and walked into the club. Jamie was dying. It is moments like that when he realizes just how much I have grown from the scared little "straight" farm boy he met nine years ago.

We stayed until the club closed and did a little dancing, and a bunch of shots. Matt met this cute latino who spoke no English. Matt tried to get his number and that took at least ten minutes. Between the guy not speaking English and Matt being wasted, it was a sight. We may or may not have left there for an after hours party. These things do 'appen.

Saturday we finally woke up around noon and Rodolfo started mixing drinks immediately. That day I got in touch with one of my besties from high school, Jaime (straight girl). I decided to meet up with her that afternoon for some drinks. God, it was so awesome to see her. We haven't seen each other in probably four years. But, all through high school we were really close and then just slowly drifted apart through college. We went to some of the straight tourist bars right on the beach (Fat Tuesdays, etc) and started getting hammered.

I know that we had dinner with her roommate and her roommate's very cute boyfriend. I know that we called my parents and my older sister for Jaime to say hi. I know that we got thrown out of at least one, if not two straight bars. That is all I know for sure. Oh, and that at one point she and I were dancing and there is a picture of me bending her over on the dance floor on my MySpace page.

Everything after that is lost to the black-put. Gay Jamie said that I got home around 10:30 that night, stumbled into the room and slurred something about how I couldn't believe they kicked me out of the bar for being drunk. Then he said I went into the room and passed out with my hand down my pants. Ever the classy lady.

My next memory is of me waking up around 1:30 AM to find everyone else gone. Gay Jamie sent me a text to say that they tried to wake me up to hit the clubs, but it was not happening. I missed a night at Coliseum with Victor Calderon. For that, Poo-Dell smacked me across the face when I saw her on Monday.

Since I got a full night of sleep, I woke up bright and early Sunday morning. I knew that no one else would be up for a while, so I decided to walk down the beach. I walked all the way from our hotel down to the ports and back. Again, I couldn't get over how beautiful the weather was. Even the ocean water was a moderate temperature. I walked in the surf the whole time.

I got back to the hotel and the girls woke up about an hour later. The rest of the morning and part of the afternoon, I spent lying by and in the pool. Around 2, I went inside and showered. That was when I realized just how much sun I got. For any of you that have seen me in JR's the last two nights, you can attest that I am just a touch red. Thankfully, we had decided to see "Gay Sex in the 70's" that afternoon, so I could escape the sun for a bit.

I had no clue what to expect with the movie. I knew it wasn't porn, but not much else. It was a really good movie. Most of it was humorous and interesting to see how gay life was thirty years ago. The movie does get sad at the end when they talk about the AIDS epidemic of the early 80s. I recommend that you go see it, if you haven't already.

That night we went back to the gay strip mall and saw celebrity impersonator "Bethany Owens" at Alibi. I expected a drag queen, but this was an actual woman. She was very good and had me laughing. What I did not enjoy were all the old queens who are her groupies or something. They must have interrupted her show at least a dozen times. Bitch, sit your country ass down. I did not come here to see you jump on stage to take a picture with this woman.

We left there after her show and headed back to Boom. By the time we got there, the club was pretty much dead. Here is where I will get a touch sappy. The DJ was playing some decent music, then went into a mix of Madonna's new single "Sorry". Of course Jamie and I got out on the dance floor. The DJ then played two more songs off the new album. Jamie and I decided that this was our little moment of fate. Here it was, just the two of us tearing up the dance floor to Madonna, nine years to almost the day from when we first met. I'm so thankfully that we have remained friends all these years.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled program. We closed down Boom again and then went home to pass out. The next morning we all got up early and packed up and were out of the hotel by noon. I had a 1 PM flight from Ft. Lauderdale to Detroit. With a three hour wait until I could fly into National. Ugh. I was so miserable at that point. My skin was tingling and red, and all I wanted was to be back home.

I finally made it home at 9:30 Monday night. What is the first thing I did? Dropped my bags and headed right over to JR's to see Poo-Dell, Blondie and Christian. I only stayed out for a few drinks. Of course, I was right back there last night to see this lady and hear all about her trip to Tokyo.

Thank God I have 8 more days for my skin to heal up before I hit the beaches of Aruba!!!

Just in case . . .

you were wondering what the weather will be like when I am in Ft. Lauderdale this weekend (taken from here).

FriFeb 17
Partly Cloudy
78°/65°

SatFeb 18
Mostly Sunny
75°/63°

SunFeb 19
Mostly Sunny
76°/66°

MonFeb 20
Sunny
76°/66°

big pimpin'

You know it's hard out here for a pimp
When he tryin to get this money for the rent
For the Cadillacs and gas money spent
Because a whole lot of bitches talkin shit

Last night Roomie and I watched this movie and now I cannot get that damn Oscar nominated song out of my head. All day long I was sitting at my desk singing "You know it's hard out here for a piiimph". That song will probably be in my head all fucking week.

That is until I get to Ft. Lauderdale Friday afternoon. Holla! I can't wait to get the fuck away from everything for a couple of days. I'm going down with one of my closest friend's, Jamie, his BF Rodolfo, and our friend Matt. All I can tell you is that things will get absolutely out of control and most likely none of the shenanigans will be suitable for my blog. :)

As if that is not enough to make me a little wet, I leave two weeks after that for . . . wait for it . . . Aruba! H O T!!! My sister's pageant coaches invited the two of us down to join them for a week of fun in the sun at their time-share down there. I haven't been to the Caribbean before and I cannot WAIT to head down there when it is still shitty and cold up here. Don't think that I'm going to let me beautiful 21 y.o. sister out of my site for one second though.

I'll be heading back to the Caribbean in May, St. Thomas this time. My friends Stason are getting married down there. God, I love it when my friends decide to get married in far-off destinations. Attention to all my girls in relationships. Weddings in tropical locations are the way to go. Especially with me as a guest!

Putting the damage on

I don't even know where to begin with this weekend. Well, I suppose I should start off with the big fight. I am in a HUGE fight right now with my liver. He is actually refusing even the sight of alcohol right now. He is completely on strike and contemplating a job change. Geez, a weekend and overtime and he gets all up in arms and shit.

Although, this was no ordinary weekend. This was a birthday extravaganza. Yup, Saturday was the official 10th Anniversary celebration of Poo-Dell's Sweet 16. And in typical fashion, we had an entire birthday extravaganza celebration starting with the opening party Thursday night, right through the closing party last night. There's nothing like four solid days of drinking to make the thought of alcohol less appealing than helping Grandma change her colostomy bag.

Thursday night we started with the opening party at JR's, which then moved over to the GL. There may or may not have been some pole dancing there by two of the girls. I won't reveal their identities right now. (Side note, it just dawned on me that in the last seven days, I was drunk for five of them. Spectacular. That is the kind of accomplishment that needs to go on my resume.)

Friday night I thought would be slightly tamer since we had a house party, hosted by the always lovely Annie. Not to be confused with Annie's and the fish bowl. Although, I am pretty sure that these two were drinking wine out of fish bowls. Around 1 AM, Poo-Dell's brother, Good Will Hunting, decided that he absolutely had to go find someone to "penetrate". His words, not mine. Trust me, it sounds even sexier coming out of his Boston-accented mouth. We hit up JR's for the trick buffet and found it to have been well picked over. I did run into a group of guys I randomly spent a weekend with in Key West though. Long story.

The next day I actually stayed home and did domestic shit all day long. Meanwhile, Roomie was off suffering at work. Oh how I laughed at her and her terrible hangover when she got home at 1:30, shortly after I finally woke up. Hehehe. BTW, that bitch is now laughing at me as she sits home watching Oprah and I am miserable at work. That night we finally left the ghetto for our first stop of the night, Blondie's home for some pre-boozing.

From Blondie's, we headed off to SE for some good old-fashion prayer circles, er uh, strippers. Yes, that's what we did. We went to Wet for their 11th Anniversary and for Good Will Hunting (GWH) to "penetrate a strippah".

First of all, Mark Dalton please ask Ms. Turner not to accompany you to the stage when you are "dancing". We all know that Ms. Turner doesn't really understand the "sexy" when she hears a beat. And if you continue to use dance moves from mid-90's raves, I will have to throw my drink at you.

There was absolutely NOTHING sexy about his "performance". Oh, BTW Mr. Dalton, I don't know if you are aware right now, but sweetheart you have apparently starred in multiple porns. You can show me your penis since I can go out and see it on DVD any time I choose! The whole modesty thing really isn't fooling anyone.

Some of the strippers were not bad looking, but I'll have to agree with Dale (who was there along with our other new friend, the delightful Mr. Taylor) that there is nothing sexy about a strip club. Nor is there anything sexy about seeing a man auto-fellate himself and then slap another gentleman on the head with it. Really? Is that hot to either of you? Because if someone slapped me in the face with their dick, I think I might have to punch them in the balls. Unless I was a naughty boy and deserving of that punishment. ;) Kidding people!

After GWH gave out his number to a couple of the strippahs, we finally headed out. By this time, it was 2 AM and not a single cab was to be found in SE. Much to Poo-Dell's dismay, we headed off to metro. I can't tell you the last time I had to do a late-night metro ride from a bar or club. I wasn't that thrilled at the thought either, but when your options are to stand outside in a blizzard and pray for a cab, or to take metro, metro wins in my book.

Even though we were on the line closest to our house, Roomie and I still had a six block walk from the metro to get home. My hair had at least two inches of snow caked around the base of my faux-hawk. Hot.

The next morning, it was time for the closing party, aka brunch at the Beacon followed by drinks at JR's. I love me some brunch at the Beacon. However, I know where these kind of days lead. Sure enough, yesterday was no exception. Of course, we had requested to sit in my girlfriend Desi's section. If you have never had Desi serve your drunks for brunch at the Beacon, you simply don't know what you are missing. What other waitress would go to the bar for you at 4 PM, to get more vodka so that you can have one final batch of mimosas. Oh, and to all of you challengers out there, we have yet to lose a brunch contest so bring it on. We will out last you and be there until we are practically thrown out!

From brunch, working a healthy champagne/vodka buzz, we thought it would be brilliant to pop into Biddy's for a Long Island. Yes, because what we all need now is a drink with multiple shots. Somewhere along the way, GWH invited one of the "dancers" to join us at Biddy's. Of course the strippah that comes in is not at all the one we assumed he was. GWH blamed this fact on the strippah he wanted giving the other his number. I was quick to point out that GWH was drunk enough to believe that he made out with auto-fellator (God that would have been funny), so I can only imagine he was handing out his number like sticks of gum.

After that watching GWH blow of said strippah, it was off to JR's for, well, to be honest a lot of haziness. I remember Taylor showing up at some point. I do not remember spilling my drink on him and then breaking the glass. God, I am such a fucking class act sometimes. Sorry Taylor! I can only imagine how pretty I must have looked. Somehow we left JR's and ended up at Halo. I had no business being in public at this point. Thank God we didn't stay for long.

After a drunk cab ride home, wondering if my drunk mind was imagining things when the news announced that Cheney shot someone, it was home to watch Housewives. Yeah, I definitely don't remember everything that happened. Thank God for Tivo.

Needless to say, I was MISERABLE at work today. Still am. Girls, I love you, but I don't want to see any of you until spring.

update

Apparently I drunk dialed my sister last night at 1:30 AM to tell her that I love her and that I am excited to be going to Aruba with her. Yeah, don't remember that at all.

last night

OK, I know that I have been MIA for a while and for that I apologize. I have a ton to blog about, but seeing as how I am still drunk from last night that is not going to happen right now. All I have to say about last night is that I met up with Poo-Dell and DYD for a few drinks. We met up with Dale and later on Chip. Delightful boys, but I don't think my liver will allow me to hang out with you ever again.

We met up with Sean to celebrate hi bf's birthday. Somehow this night of a few beverages amongst friends turned into something out of control. I was definitely in more bars last night than I was over the entire weekend. Good times. Drunk at work at 8:30 in the morning on a Wednesday? Even better times.