Sunday, February 03, 2008


This weekend sports two perfect excuses to party: groundhogs day (sorry, six more weeks of winter), and the superbowl (which teams are playing?).

Lastnight, my friends Peter and Kent held a raging party at their place in Chelsea. They hired hot muscly bartenders, and one was this ripped up straight boy who remembered me from when we modeled together in our underwear in Times Square. Chris.

I asked Chris what he really wanted to do (eventually) with his life and he says music...maybe write music. I said maybe we could work together because (eventually) I'd like to write lyrics. "For which kinda music?" he asks. And I'm embarrassed to answer so stereotypically: "Musicals."

"Oh," he says. "I saw a musical once," he racks his brain. "Uh...Meet me in St. Louis." Bless his heart. Hot straight Chris. I doubt we'll ever make music together.

I was mainly just happy to be invited to this party. It was the first of their parties I've been back to since they blackballed me two years ago. Yes, yours truly was persona non-grata; unwanted, 86'd, made redundant.

I was blackballed because (gasp!) at one of their parties two years ago I was discovered giving blowjobs in their restroom. This they thought "tacky" and unladylike. Tacky and unladylike? I was only being courteous! As promised under the conditions of my parole, there were no blowjobs given at their roaring party lastnight.

Today there are two superbowl parties to attend--I actually can't stand football. My father used to get into a rage whenever his team didn't win (the Seattle Seahawks--and they never won, trust me). So I refuse to watch the game, and thankfully at these parties today I won't have to. I will be found giving blowjobs in the bathroom.

Be a man on Superbowl Sunday. Sack that tight end!


avery said...

they were probably angry you didn't offer your hosts the first suck...

poor form on your part, I must say

tisk tisk

lwando said...

I was watching the super bowl and getting into the spirit of things with some boys from MN. I was puzzled by the homo erotic ness of the game. They touch each other everywhere!

Anonymous said...


virtually everything but the butt is padded on a football player. that's why they slap each others glute's so much ... they can't really feel anything elsewhere.