There was a decidedly Gay theme to my weekend. And I don't mean that in a festive, holiday way. I mean gay. Like in the "Insert Tab B into...maybe just rub it up against another Tab B, but keep it decidedly away from Slot A," kind of way.
On Friday night, I had a hot date with a younger chick and I totally scored. Except not really. But we did discuss our most intimate secrets. Like that I HATE bras and I fling mine across the room the moment I get home, but that means I have to hold my boobs when I run up or down the stairs. Not because my boobs are big ::hysterical laughter and shedding of half-amused/half-sad tears:: but it makes them feel better about themselves when I fondle them on the way to the sock drawer. Plus, the slight movement might cause chest wrinkles.
And then she shared with me that I was scaring her.
Saturday, Gray and I spent the evening with our gay friend over at our tall friend's house for his annual Christmas party during which we fondled small dogs, corrupted young children, and made fun of retards. And then I gave our gay friend the applesauce cinnamon cock and balls (complete with veins and...um..."head" lines) that I made for him. For Hanukkah.
And then today, I attended the Twin Cities Women's Choir's annual "Illuminations" concert, which was really fun because they sang the exact same arrangement of "Go Where I Send Thee" that we sang in my high school, choir, which meant got to sing along, which meant that everyone sitting near me inched further in the other direction, which meant I had room to let go of the Chipotle Gas without being implicated.
And also, this concert is like a regional lesbian conference. Nothing says, "Happy Holidays" like a church full of high-waisted jeans and pixie cuts. So again with the gay.
After a weekend full of homo action I decided to get back to my straight roots and study a little for my Shakespeare final on Wednesday. Fortunately, reading Shakespeare isn't gay for me because I'm a chick.
Except that Desdomona...she makes me feel all tingly inside.
Your life is WAY more interesting than mine.
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wow. Just wow. I totally did not have a weekend like that. Now mine seems boring.
ReplyDeleteI suppose I can just keep thinkin' about boobs. In a general sense, not that I was thinking about yours. That would be weird, wouldn't it? Unless you don't mind, of course. :)
It's only the start of December. I can't imagine what your Christmas Eve is going to be like. Santa better watch out.
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