Laughing All The Way

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Go Ahead, Google Pussy.

Pussywillow came to town and I found where the gays live. Last month I received the text that portends the arrival of a gaystorm, “Coming to SF, can’t wait to see you!!!”

Pussy really became one of my nearest and dearest after I left London. We had had our moment of gay pride, the one where he said he was gay and where I said I love the gays. And we had our moment of excess that still makes us giggle when we think about how totally unfit for publication we were. On my way of of England in 2004 I took some time at the airport to send a goodbye text to a few people to make sure they had my contact info. Even though Pussy and I had only spent a few times reveling through the streets of London, I sent him that text. I just knew that I wanted to be part of his life.

In the years since that text, Pussy and I have seen each other more regularly than intercontinental living often provides. When I am in London I stay at his and when he comes to America I am stop one for him. It seems only fair that when we go out we do the gay thing. I think that we’ve gone from gay reveling to true friends. He tells me things that I don’t necessarily want to hear and I give him advice on dating type things.

We started out at a club called The Stud and it seemed that it was Bear Night. Fun was had by all, but there was a moment when I had to step in and beat a fag off my gay. I believe the exact quote I used was: “Leave my gay alone.” Pussy backed up my claim that I would take out the motherfucker who was messing with my boy. (Side note: Any gay who looks down their nose at my gay will have words with me, don’t treat my gay like that, especially when you are wearing a shirt that says ‘Phat Phaggy Phuck’ when in reality it should say ‘Fat Ugly Fucker’.) The drinks were stiff and kicked my ass, I was off the booze for the rest of the night.

From there we hit Badlands and quickly moved onto the Cafe. If I could figure out how to get a photo from my camera to my computer (sometimes I am so web savy other times I just want a magic button to make things happen) you would all get to see the very nekid men except for the gym tube sock and the thong panties (when men wear thongs I demand they be called panties). The men made some money, the thongs being a convenient place to hold the cash.

Pussy and I had a good time, although we were in bed by 1. I can’t blame Pussy, the jet lag coming that far is a beast and I was ready to beat my way out of where the gays live. I am so glad I had the chance to go out in my jeans and sneakers and drink. I am so out of practice, Pussy was teasing me about it.

Also, I know I’ve sucked with the writing, I know it lets people down (I’m looking at you Atizz) but there are points when I really have nothing to say or write. Hopefully with my super packed summer to come I will have “things to say.” Hang in there, I promise, things will get better.

So sorry to all the people who got here expecting porn. Maybe next time.