Weekend update
Friday I got into town and Rosemary picked me up. We went home to get ourselves together, and then we were off for Sex Dwarf. As usual, I had a slam-bang good time. I shook my leather-covered ass. I flexed my spandex-encased arms. I got hot. I got heavy. And I got a bunch of it on camera. It was good to see so much of the crew again: babyraven, mouserobot, robbynewwave, sarcasmoscorner, and of course our esteemed DJs rockwrok and southstman. And how happy I was to get missamerika out there, too!
This time was a bit odd in that it took me a longer time to find some partners on the floor to mingle with. The crowd seemed to be more grouped in clumps, mostly girls and their gay boyfriends. But eventualy I hit a good roll of minglers. I spent a good amount of time grinding it up with a girl whom both Rosemary and I thought at first glance was varouna. And yes, to prove she looked like Chantal to Rosemary and me, there is a picture.
Also, Rosemary was properly initiated as a fag hag. The boys were all very taken with her, which I expected. When we were in Disney World at the Mannequins club, she was struck by the gay boys ogling her. Now she got a whole bunch more. I was surprised it hadn't happened before, with her having the phsyical profile of Fag Hag Barbie: a pretty fat girl with big boobs. I've known a bunch of women who gfit that description, and nearly all of them have devastating hag powers :P
Afterward Rosemary drove Erika home, and then we hit the hay.
Saturday Rosemary went to baby-sit, and I was going to rest up after a long week of working at 6 a.m. Except that Rosemary's landlady turned "I'm going to put in a lightbulb" into "I'm going to paint the whole bathroom today." Sleeping was not an option any more, and I didn't feel like I was in any position to do anything about her being there, since Rosemary let her in and all. So I sucked it up and went to see Rosemary and the boys Jesse and Raymel. Rosemary said I could sleep there, which I said was not going to happen because I thought it would be rude, and it wouldn't be fair to the boys, who love to see me and would want to play with me. And play we did, as soon as I got in the door. Tons of amazingly structured, safe roughhousing. We topped it off with some Cinnamon Life and on-demand "SpongeBob SquarePants" episodes before their mom got home.
Rosemary and I got some things from Acme, and I cooked some ground turkey and tri-color rotini with olive oil-marinated roasted peppers and garlic clove. We watched some Olympics and ate lunch, since the landlady's painting kept this normal 20something couple from the way we usually while away a lazy weekend afternoon ;)
>Soon enough it was time to go out again. Rosemary was going to gay bingo, and I had nowhere to go, no one to see and nothing to do until the Girls on Film photo show that my friend Cathy was in. So, where does a young man with a bunch of time on his hands go? To the nudie bar, of course.
Rosemary dropped me off at Club Risque. Now, it's always amusing when I go to the strip club, because the stereotypes of who goes tend to be true. When I go, I tend to be the youngest, best-looking and most-put-together guy there. I also have this habit of talking to the strippers like they're human beings, smell nice, and dress well. And usually ESPN is on in these places, so when they ask me what I do, I point at the TV and say, "Look at the bottom of the screen."
So at one point I go to tip a South Philly-lookin' dancer named Nina. She then proceeds to grab my chest, saying "Nice. Make 'em dance for me." To her approval, I flex the pecs. So I'm the one getting my cans checked out. I'm amused and embarrassed at the same time!
Later on I make eye contact with Nina to come over and talk to me. As she walks over, gets out a hello -- and trips and falls. And I mean it: She FELL.
This was the most spectacular fall I've ever seen -- just-lit cigarette in the right hand, full glass of white zinfandel in the other, Nina stumbles to the left, stumbles to the right, reaches out and grabs the chair next to me to stabilize herself, but instead pulls the chair down with her. Lit ashes and sparks flying, and the wine spills on her hair, her face, down her leg, on my arm and leg. Chair slams on the ground, and this woman -- wearing next to nothing and her platform clear heels -- sits in a heap on the floor, laughing and crying from embarrassment.
I grab some napkins and help her dry off. We joke about it, and that her shoes are now cursed. She gets herself together and freshens up before we have some very enjoyable lapdance time. The deal was sealed: She fell head over heels for me. It's what I tell the other girls the rest of the night.
Also, I got to meet a couple of indie-rock girls who danced there. We talked about bands and music and sex positions. The usual stuff. And a tall, corseted, spiky-haired dancer gave me a lapdance she won't forget. I'm still sore. Still sore! I'll just say she performed to completion ... for herself. She later started telling me her real name, what she does outside the club, her e-mail address ...
Later I get to Skinner's for Girls on Film, where I got to hang with Cathy, Ricky, Steve and folks for a little while, and then Rosemary picked me up.
>Sunday we watched "Wedding Crashers." Funny movie, decent movie, up until the last 40 minutes where the premise is gone and we're stuck in romantic-comedy land. But the bad part is that it's hard to be behind these guys as the "good guys," because they aren't. The only way they can make it look like Owen Wilson's character should get with Rachel McAdams' character is because her boyfriend turns into a cartoonishly domineering freako who curses at her in church in the middle of a wedding of a Cabinet member's daughter! Yeah, like THAT would ever happen.
Afterward we went to my parents' house for my mom's cooking. Dad was watching old NBA All-Star Game footage on ESPN Classic. My brother is sleeping on the couch. Rosemary and I eat dinner and talk with my mom, and then my brother, and then my dad. It was a nice visit.
Rosemary and I got back to her place for a little special time before I had to get the bus. We got to the station at 8:30 to get the 9 o'clock bus. Only to find out that the 8:30 was the last one, and it was leaving now! Rosemary held the bus just enough for me to buy my ticket and jump on. The rest of my ride home was uneventful and easy.
I guess I should unpack my bag from that weekend.
I still have a ton of photos to put up on Flickr from the Jukebox Zeros show, Philly Roller Girls, and other things. I swear, they're coming.