The last three numbers of my ticket were 7-2-8. I had committed this to memory and slipped the stub into my pocket. Hard-luck case that I am, I figured I would never win the porn raffle at Touché. Such good fortune escapes me.
So I fell into a rather engrossing conversation with a fine gentleman named Dan. He had made it clear that he was not necessarily trying to pick me up, but if that had been the outcome then all the better. And just as I was driving some point home about the insidious nature of today's media, 7-2-8. I won the porn! I excused myself graciously and accepted my booty. Oh, what a moment. And as I said to Dan, 'The bus left a long time ago. I just chose not to get on.'
Thanks to Kevin at Jackhammer for announcing to the crowd how cute my ass was. I have been dieting, and while I'm not one to hype that fact, my ass has really pulled together. Go ahead and grab it and see if I ain't right!
See you all at Jackhammer for the kick-off of Windy City Gay Idol. I'm puttin' my judgment boots on, so come big or stay home.
Also, catch yours truly yakkin' it up on Windy City Radio this Sunday at 10 p.m. for my monthly segment 'Drinkin''. I'm sure you can figure that one out.
Thanks to Tim from The Baton for all your hospitality Thursday night. The new show is phenomenal as always. I guess after 36 years, there's no time for fuckin' around.