As my wise old friend Marcus used to say, 'My pussy hurts.' No, not from overuse, but just general exhaustion. What a frickin' week. Memorial Day truly is the kick-off for summer and it's gonna be a wild one, if this past week is to be trusted as a barometer of things to come. I'm sure there's a mixed metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm in a hurry.
IML was just too much to digest. The good people at Right Guard would have been salivating over the aromas wafting around the Leather Market. These leather queens like to smell like men. I say, smell away! I also smelled porn stars, but with a different nose ( know what I'm saying? ) . I ran into Michael Brandon, my favorite 'actor' and was at a loss for words. Unfortunately said loss was not due to his gargantuan cock down my throat. You snooze, you lose, I suppose.
Sadly, I also smelled a rat. This with my political nose. I hear the Hyatt is buddy-buddy with the
Christian Coalition, or some such hate-mongering group. Two frumpy dumps were on hand at the help desk to make sure our eyes wouldn't burn from our heads as a result of seeing objectionable material. Onyx was forced to remove their literature from the table, due to a bare butt. Come on, folks. We've all got 'em. Some people just choose to speak from theirs.
Check out 'Jew I. Jane' ( her words, not mine ) staffing the door at Circuit's military ball, sponsored by our friends at Rentboy.com . She wasn't taking no crap. And the party was anything but crap. Great room they've got there at el Circuit.
At Crew, while catching up with my old friend Timmy, I came to a stark realization about my life: I don't have a quilting bee. He plays softball for the Equality Illinois team. It's the whole camaraderie, brotherhood jazz that he enjoys. It's his quilting bee. And so I begin my search for a bee of my own. More later.
God can stop making hot men, because he has set the bar too high with the Wondertwins ( my words, not theirs ) pictured here at Cocktail. One of the dynamic duo, David writes for Windy City Times. Check out his music column bi-weekly.
Foozie and friends somehow managed to pack Hideaway on Sunday night. What am I saying, somehow? It's because she's beloved by all. And throw in an Angelique Munro and an Eraineya Stone and you can't go wrong.
Shades of Manhole were evident at Hydrate this week. It's always been Manhole with a pretty, new dress anyway. This weekend, they took off the dress.
Before I go, I want to recognize the tireless efforts of all my fellow photogs who busted their respective ( and respectable ) asses this weekend to make the magazine a magazine. Thanks to Mel, graysong, Kizzy, Ryan, BJ, Jerry, Chuck and Israel. You all make it so much easier to do what I do.