My weekend was like, DP-full. Yeah, I meant �double-penetration,� the most accurate way to describe how jam-packed and exciting my weekend was. And here I thought I was a novice with analogies � just you wait. Okay, onto the update!

If I can remember! Ah, yes. Friday night, Mr. Ababwa�s art show, complete with Fried Chicken and Orange Soda. Nuthin� but class� the talented Mr. Ollie gave his close friends a piece of his art, better described by John or Al . I wore my fabulous new wide-brimmed feather hat, dressed to the 9�s to hang with my friends and to counteract the 22-ounce Smirnoff Ice in my brown paper bag. Like I said, nuthin� but class.

After the gallery , we went to the Gargoyle to chat and drink and hang. I got the chance to hang with some new friends, very cool fellows, Al (see previous link) and Ed. So much fun were they, that we insisted they come back to a little after-gathering at Bunny�s, complete with Spider Monkey shaking her groove thing, and a privileged visit by Sybil, our favorite and most gorgeous local drag-queen. She informed us that she�s doing stand-up comedy at all of her shows now � I�ll let you know when the next one is so we can all go see her! Spider Monkey got a tit lesson from Sybil, we boogied and bopped, chatted and such, Al is lucky he didn�t post those freaky pictures of us! Hee hee hee.

Okay, Saturday. Hung OVER. I recovered quickly, after a militant spew and trip to Jack in the Crack, to bring back medication in the form of grease for my dear Spider Monkey. She wasn�t doing too well. We nibbled. She lay on the couch. We watched whatever would come through on my staticky little TV set and moaned and groaned. But we HAD to rally! There was a party on Saturday night, the LAST of the Stanton Hurrahs, and Artist was coming into town! Up and at �em, we picked up Artist from the train station. You know, I�d rather call him Punket. Got that? �Artist� will now be known as �Punket.� Make a note of it. Anyway, we picked him up and began to ready ourselves for the evening.

I wore my new red wig. More like hot-orange-red, it�s BRIGHT. We partied at the Stanton Residence until the wee hours of the morning. Nina and Fizgig, Shawny-boy, Georgie-Porgy, Bobo, the whole gang was there. We conga�d through the house (I do believe this was caught on tape), watched Snoop�s new porno, Doggy Style , danced a bit, talked a lot, and lamented the loss of such a great space to party. Everyone I wanted to see was there, even Eduardo, the Gargoyle bartender from the night before. As usual, Georgie and I were the last standing, therefore the most fabulous. Punket was hanging by a thread, so I scooped him up, said goodbye to the house, and headed home.

You know, there were quite a lot of hotties at this party. Good-looking guys strutting around, open to talking, looking adorable. It was a nice, refreshing feeling that none of them appealed to me beyond a smile and a chat. My mind was focused on MY hottie, who wasn�t in town to attend the party (which is probably a good thing, because I wouldn�t have lasted until 4 a.m. if he had been there). There�s some kind of peace that comes with KNOWING you are not interested in hooking up with someone should the opportunity arise. Some kind of comfort. Like I said, it was nice.

Anyway, goodness, so much! Sunday afternoon, after a laughter-filled lunch with Punket, I returned him to his home in Carlsbad like a videotape that I forgot to rewind. We always manage to ruin that boy, and I love it! I relaxed through the afternoon, picked up Ms at the airport, and headed over to his friend�s house for a bit, then grabbed some food, and exhausted, eventually I fell asleep. So content I could moo .

-Barbarella

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