May 28, 2004

Slip Slidin' Away

"Make sure you wear some nice drawers on Thursday," Soc told me on the phone a couple days ago. "We're going to Tiger Beat."

And so we did. After a few drinks at LT7, we headed down to the Slide, checked our clothes and had cocktails in our Calvins. And what a charming party it was.

If you've ever been to the Slide, you know it can get a little hot and stuffy when it's crowded. Walking around with hardly anything is an excellent solution to any a/c concerns.

And the boys were so, um, friendly.

One question -- where did all this glitter come from?

Off to Ptown. Have a good Memorial Day weekend.

May 27, 2004


Y'all remember Connie, eh? She's my friend the chanteuse who can booze.

Make sure to eyebrow pencil in June 22 on your calendar and come see Ms. Cat and a host(ess) of other drag divas dust off their dresses (and knowing some of them, drum up their drama) and sing their freshly minted interpretations of Abba classsics. And you can buy the CD too!

connie's on the bottom middle ... hee hee

It's supposed to start at 8, but really ... have you ever known drag queens to go up on time? Going down, maybe they're a little more punctual. I'm not sayin' ...

Not too worry though, those girls are not the only show in town that night. The kids at WYSIWYG are putting up another reading, and rumor has it a certain gay uncle will regale you with a tale or two of gays days gone by. It's at 7:30pm, the same night. More news as it develops.

So overcome that time/space continuum and come play with everyone.

May 26, 2004

Hi Sailor

Yup, it's Fleet Week. Haven't seen this much starched white walking around town since, well, Christmas on Fountain Square last year at this time.

So the question remains ... does one:
A) go pick up a sailor?
B) put on a sailor's outfit, get a quick buzz cut at the local barber, and get picked up?
C) just take pictures of their asses and, if questioned, tell them you were adjusting the white balance on your camera?

And don't forget, there are lots of marines in town as well.


Almost makes me wish I weren't going to Ptown for the weekend. Key word = almost.

For those of you sticking around town (pun intended), remember: Don't ask, but please .... PLEASE, do tell.

May 25, 2004

Ass From the Past

I got a present in my bobzyeruncle mailbox today. A lovely picture from decades gone by, when free love ran rampant in Cabbagetown, and groups of boys stood around naked, kissing and groping.

And who's that cute young thing in the group on the left? I seem to recognzie the profile. Hmm, the butt looks vaguely familiar ... a little tighter, a little younger.

Could it be? Why, um ... yes, it's a shot of a certain Liftetime lovin' lad we know from his 20s (not the 20s, his ... although one could argue ...).

In an orgy.


I'd post it, but kiddie porn is against the law.

(Auntie Lorna and Rose ... I'm sure they were just play-acting, or rehearsing a neighborhood production of Hair. Not to worry.)

May 24, 2004

And I Thought the Atlanta Boys Could Drink ...

I'd like to thank everyone who came out on Friday to GB:NY, which, as I understand it was a welcome home party for me, celebrating my flight from Great Britain to New York.

That was the event, wasn't it?

Saturday's unexpected "Round 2" turned out to be equally (if not more so) entertaining.

It was every bit as much fun as they have mentioned. And then some. To all those I missed, I hope to catch up with you soon.

Things I recall that I haven't read:


I saw body parts ... turgid ones.


There were going to be photos but the battery on someone's digital camera conveniently ran out of juice.


There was an extremely effective lesson in appropriate vs. inappropriate groping. Apparently it's all about the underwear.


There's a future in MST3000 for softcore gay porn.


A whispered "Um, nobody but you two know I went home with that boy." Fast forward to "Hey everyone, want to see a picture of last night's trick?"


Taking a car straight to the bar from the airport, and having the driver drop off your luggage with your doorman is a good thing


Spanish boys who cry because they've just broken up with their boyfriends are apparently easily consoled by doing cartwheels on the street.


Apparently, if you're lip reading, "daddy" and "nanny" are remarkably similar (go mouth the words in a mirror, it's true)


"F*ck me, Fran Drescher" ... well, it's just not as hot, is it?


Sharing an unexpected Live at Last moment with him. Fascinating.

I managed to see Shrek 2 amidst the weekend's debauchery.

And now we're back at work. Oh. Joy.

May 20, 2004

For the Love of Mark


Looks like I'm flying in from London for this ... will I win "furthest travelled" award?

Y'all try not to be too hammered by the time I get there.

May 19, 2004

Achtung Cry Baby

It's amazing to me how people, no matter what country they're in, consistently fall into what I call the "Justify My Job" paradox.

One minute they're bemoaning the fact that "I'm so busy ... I've got way too much to do."

As soon as you shift the workload, it becomes "I thought that was my job, why is she doing it now?"

They're just never happy, are they?

May 18, 2004

How Big is Yours?

You know that the muckety mucks are really concerned about important business issues at hand when the first several hours of the meeting are spent trying to rearrange their rooms in the castle. "Whaaaaaa, so-and-so has a nicer room than than I do."

Given that they have a global business to run and several strategic decisions to make, it's clear that a high priority should be how much relative square footage they possess in a room they're going to be doing not much more than sleeping in 7-hour stints over a 2-night stay.

My room was lovely -- it was the turret on the ride side of the parking lot. However, in the spirit of karma and non-drama, I traded down so that one of them would stop whining, only to hear over breakfast how noisy the big room was. Are we dealing iwth 60-year old CEO or spoiled 12-year old bratty girl?

Anyway, we got a little more buy-in on the initiative I've been put in charge of, made the focus a little more regional, gave them some work to do and seemingly justified my corporate existence for awhile longer.

I guess that means it was successful.

So now I'm situated downtown, holed up in a in a quiet office, checked into a modern Hilton with an H-O-T bellman, and just 3 blocks away from a couple of happenening homo haunts.

How do you say happy hour in German?

May 13, 2004

Getting Digits

Did you ever notice a random cute guy's fingers ... all thick and smooth like sausages ... and think, "mmm, I bet he has a nice dick."? And if even he didn't, it wouldn't matter because the fingers themselves would be enough to play with for a couple hours.

And why are they often more hot when there's a little gold band on the left hand?

Go outside, quick. God let the cute boys out today.

Speaking of sausages, I've booked my flights for next week's travelcade. I'm staying here on Monday night:


I saw the picture and thought, "Gee, I think I've stayed there before." Maybe on a trip years ago when I worked for a different bunch of freaks company. Or maybe it's just one of those deja vus.

Anyway, it's going to be a castle full of corporate hoo-has so I'm only staying one night. Get in, give a presentation, and then get out ... heading my hoo-ha downtown. It's time to find out just how close to das ghetto the office really is. Who knows, maybe I'll find myself a hot little Frankfurter sandwich.

Then it's back to London for a couple days. I know ... again!?!? But, just to make sure I don't get in a rut, I'm going to try a different hotel *and* I'm flying diffrerent carriers. Taking them out and these folks back. Now that I know the rules, maybe the flights will be more entertaining.

May 12, 2004

Suddenly It's Summer

There were two nice things about leaving the office at 8pm tonight.

1. It was 4 hours earlier than I left the night before.

2. I love it when you can walk outside in the early evening in a short-sleeved shirt, smelling the air that's been freshly washed by a good thunderstorm.

I'm not a big fan of the excessive heat and humidity. I lived in New Orleans and Houston long enough to know that it gets mighty unbearable mighty quickly. But tonight, one of the first warm nights I've walked around in for awhile, made me remember how nice early summer can be. No coats, cool breezes, still no need for a/c.

Now, if I could only get out early enough to get to the Park or the River and see the shirtless, sweaty boys getting in their evening cardio workouts .... sigh, all would be bliss.

May 10, 2004

You Can Go Home Again

The Cape was at its most amazing this weekend. Made reasonably good time up on Friday (depsite Connecticut's best efforts to remain a parking lot), with a Ptown virgin in tow. Found a friend or two once we arrived (the Crown has a brand new, ding-dong doorbell bartender ... we call him Marcello, or maybe Arms-cello ... fresh in that day from Brazil) and then headed to dinner with the ever-hot Jimmy at The Lobster Pot. Took a quick break back to my house, where one of my oldest friends (we'll be knowing each other 20 years this fall) and her ex (those lesbians just can't let go, can they?) were sitting in my living room, high as kites, playing a post-Scrabble game of cards and drinking beers.

I'd come home.

Hung out with them for awhile, then headed down to the show, where the music was medium bad (although the new Deborah Cox Aida remix is fun) and the crowd was a pre-season cornucopia of quasi-locals ... a mere taste of the messes delights that summer would bring.

Saturday was all about cramming as possible into gently deflowering the virgin with the varied treasures of our Portuguese fishing village: a trip to Race Point, a stroll down Commercial Street, a gander at the shops that were slowly opening, walk-throughs of neighborhood galleries, visits with more friends, bloodies and burgers at the Squealing Pig. My afternoon run turned into helping the girls put some furniture together for our downstairs bedroom (we apparently trade lodging for carpentry skills). Beers, joints, lesbians, Marlboro Lights and power tools. All I needed was a flannel shirt and a vagina and I'd have been card-carrying. Then again, it could just tell them it's a permanent strap-on.

Afterwards came a nap, a fine meal, and a cocktail or seven at the local haunts. I even had a "first" — who knew you could go downstairs at Chaser's and play ping pong with the ladies?

Then it was off to where the boys play, which was a much prettier less scary crowd than the night before (or maybe I'd had more to drink). Morning rain on Sunday made for a peaceful end to a perfect Saturday and the ride home was even shorter that the ride up. All hail showtunes on iPods.

My favorite time up there is before and after season, the weather hinting at long days on the beach, and having time to hang with my friends who are lucky enough to call Ptown home. Once the crowds come, they're usually all too busy working to just sit and relax with ... or stand around in a garage laughing till our sides hurt watching a dyke version of Lucy and Ethel build a bedroom set.

Larry and I are back in two weeks for Memorial Day, and to see if the rest of the furniture ever got finshed. I'll take a flannel shirt, just in case.

Oh, and for the record, Thursday really wasn't that late of a night. I was was eating a patty melt and fries on my sofa watching Letterman, so clearly I was home around midnight. That's early.

May 6, 2004

Wicked Little Town Office


I wish I could bottle the productive energy I had last night from 5:30-10pm ... where's that Pez dispenser full of Ritalin?


I really hope they slit Ross' throat tonight


Our legal team in Dublin is working my last gay nerve


It's easier to crank out work at night in a thunderstorm than on a beautifully sunny spring day


End punctuation in bullet-texted brochures bugs me


There's still light at the end of the tunnel (24 hours and I'm on the road)


I'd rather be watching porn


Building hanging indent tables in HTML is an excellent waste of time


Hedwig will get you through most any day

May 5, 2004

Best Laid Plans

Still banging away at the office. Looks like my big night at Hump is screwed. I guess I could still go home, put on a police jacket, and go to Pork, but then somebody's bound to say, "Hey Cop, u late."


I was channel surfing last night and my ADD took over got sidetracked while Making the Movie: Troy was on. Half-watching an interview with Eric Bana, I heard him say something to the effect of lots of riding, blah blah, no saddles, blah blah, "made us ride bareback."

My eyes popped to the screen to see his scantily clad legs wrapped around a big sweaty horse.

I'm no proponent of the bareback, but ... *woof*.

Now if I could just get past Brad Pitt's accent.

May 4, 2004

Light at the End of Tunnel Cape

72 hours from now I'll be on the road to sanctuary.


Yay me.

May 3, 2004

No Need to Talk it Out

I lost my wallet over the weekend, which made me lose most of Sunday morning dealing with credit card companies and all of this morning getting a replacement license at the ironically named DMV Express.

The line for soup at Hale and Hearty was almost as bad as the DMV.

It's this shy of foul outside and I'm just not feeling the joy.

I think I'll just cue this up on the iPod, set it on repeat and look for entertainment on the blogroll. I hope you all are witty today.

In fun news, however, beer blast at the Eagle was all that and a bag of pork rinds last night, and I'm looking forward to their new happy hour party, Hump, this Wednesday. Who's in?

The Eagle and Karen Carpenter in the same post. That's gorgeous.