Hi blog, to be honest you with you I was out, you know, painting the town red, you know, making the scene, you know, and who was I thinking of? That’s right, blog. Yes, You. Blog. Don't need to blush I only speak my truth.
Blog, you are funner to “talk” to the "flesh and bloods" I conversated with. I have so many NASTY thoughts, blog. All night I looked at the offering and thought, “ Not my caliber. Nope not you ever. Why is your sweater wrapped around your neck like some Orange country matron? So many Asians. Too many asian lesbians for my tastes. So terrible to tell you that blog and Yet who else can I tell it to who is awake, blog.
If I was using my serial killing soccer mom persona than I'd have some "fun" with the words "painting the town red." but that's over with after I realized that John Waters used that concept alreay and I became pretty damned mortified for pretty damned near a damned week.
In my defense, blog, I tried to have fun tonight. I even had 2 beers and you know blog that beer is something I very rarely drink nowadays but I didn’t want to drive drunk, blog , and with mixed drinks anything could happen and I can’t afford absolutely anything to happen until I clear my name and expose the bizarre and inexplicable madness of Tig Notaro, Stef Willen and co. Such a pox on their houses etc.
So, a girl in my building suggested we hang out and though I find her totally unattractive she suggested we go to East West and I figured I should "socialize" Whatevah.
For those not fortunate to be in the capital of the L word (which starred Jennifer Beals and a stellar cast) East West is the premier hot spot for the ladies of L.A who don't think they look manly and who who don’t find enough in fellows and therefore have about 2 days of the week where some keen promoter assigns lesbian night at some bar and therefore the gay male quotient in these bars doesn’t totally overflow the space and lezzes they can either try to meet their life partner or they just can hang out with their life partner or they can hang out with their friends and take pics. That always will be witnessed in these gay lady places. Some lesbo will be pointing her fucking phone at some other and keeping it for some …. Posterity … or to show that she is out and about and not in and out. Put it on Twitter, a safe guess.
Like every group, the majority of lesbians are almost completely idiotic.
So, tonight is thurdsay and this east west “promises” not too many straight men and not a majority of gay men on santa monica blvd. It is the one night where there is a confidence that enough non straight women and their friends will not make the club lose money etc.
So, whatever I was there. And, man oh man. I know how to entertain myself especially after even one beer where everything I say seems like the most precious of pearls. And, when the company, frankly, sucked. Now I need to deal with awkward neighbor issues. GREAAAAAT. Well, that’s about it for that except that the chunky sweet looking black door guy saw me and said, “ Girl, where you been.” And I actually went off how I have a familiar face and how we never met because I certainly had zero recollection of this individual and this happens to me constantly and mostly I really haven’t met the person. But, he went into detail about his wife who works in the bathroom and I remembered. His wife was “fired” from the bathroom, he told me. I pretended to be put out but I was relieved as I prefer to urinate and be on my way . Sure there are some other steps but you get the idea. I don’t feel it necessary to be handed a paper towel and I just don’t have enough money to express my largesse. I would love to. That’s my fantasy. To just hand it out to any person who charms me but so far that hasn’t been feasible.
So, there was ladies and mostly they didn’t appeal to my sense of symmetry,or poetry and I found no one figuratively or literally remarkable.
Met some Israelis and spoke some Hebrew and they both were scrawny and they were making dance motions in relation to the music and I wondered how hard it would be gay in Israel. I lived there when I was totally not even one bit aware that I might not ever fall in love with a man. They giggled wildly at my jokes in Hebrew and I had a sense that they wanted a piece of old blogmaster's ass,and that cheered me up a tiny bit.
Told the neighbor bore that I wasn’t feeling great and she and I went home together but not together,as they say.
I think I might have mentioned, but I'm not sure, as I'm too tired to scroll about but did I mention that the place was crawling with Asians? This made me have to think about why so suddenly would asian women become gayer and I didn't appreciate having to now contemplate this. No offense, seriously but the one group I just suspect I'll never get aroused by is the Asians. Just something about the eyelids or lack thereof that throws me off. And the sense that they are not lovemonkeys when the time comes to be a lovemonkey.
Surveying the crowd at East west I came up with, “ after much practice, they have perfected the “I’m not lonely pose.” And, then I was very intense about a thought that pro hibition was pro inhibition and then I wondered if hibition was some latin root or something and then I joked to some mangy gay man how every one is just one inhibition away from a good time and again I wanted to marry myself most desperately and cursed a world where self marriage wasn’t legal.
And, I thought a few more thoughts that I believe the corona had unleashed and that needed to be shared with the world( but that I won’t think are shareworthy tomorrow when that extra hibition comes back, so I’ll post it quick.)
Share it with the world, an odd impulse and with the internet is not probable but like most everything. With guerilla marketing I just may one day share the dais with Arriana and Harvey Levin.
So basically fun is not something I really ever find in bars and I’m not shocked that I came home fun free. I have you bloggy, and that’s better than living in the world of my youth where there was no chance in hell that someone in Pakistan might come upon my blog and leave me a comment in Urdu.
I want to discuss the yogurt shops on the gay part of Santa Monica Blvd and the very odd visual images that are being used to sell said yogurt. I want to really go into detail but I am tired, blog.
I’m okay with Kris Allen’s win and thinking singing “no boundaries” more than once is a punishment of biblical proportions. Mountain climb imagery needs to be retired, cara et al. Mr. Lambert you have dodged a bullet. Which reminds me: There was a song on the fucking radio on the way there and it had lyrics like " I have issues and Iwill break my habits." Unbearable. When psychobabbly jaberwock invades rock and roll...
Off I got to "publish" this post, Quickly.
2. Yogurt store story will be available before Memorial Day.
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