Category: Dinner

Dinner And A Murder

11/9/2016

Murder mystery dinner parties are one of the most adult things you can do with your Halloween night that doesn't include appletinis and bobbing for pears in a tub of vodka. I got glammed up for an “affair to dismember.”

My character was the wicked witch of the depressed. She was fashionable and most importantly she hated everyone. Needless to say she was the perfect fit for me.

These stories ere on the side of the improbability. I like having sex on my broom a mile high? My field of poppy flowers is all for my heroin addiction. My husband is having sex with my mother. I slept with my best friend's fiancee and I'm having his babies. Twins (Hansel and Gretel)

All I can say is that despite the suspicions thrown against me on pineapple pizza. Yes, it was my spell book. But, I didn't cast the spell and I didn't commit the murder and most importantly I wasn't thrown to the thronging mob outside the castle gates.

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It's Not My Party

11/11/2015

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Mid terms were over. I failed all of them and honestly I have never felt a stronger desire to get really fucked up. Being the reasonable person that I am I settled on watching other people get really fucked up.

In a surprising turn of events I was invited to a party. I know the girl. She's really sweet, but I didn't know we were close enough for me to be on her guest list. I suppose if your trying to get a good group of people though that's not something you take into consideration. The last time I went to a legitimate party I was a junior in high school. I would not have gone if Joyce wasn't going

It's not really my scene. A good night for me is pulling out an Olivia Newton-John vinyl. Watching some Simple Life reruns, maybe write a popping blog article or two. I don't really party.

I've been told by many people that my school has really good parties. Jenny really liked the foam party one of the student organizations hosted. People got really fucked up and Warner went to one of the fraternity glow parties and he said it was amazing.

I may not be a party goer, but Elizabeth Taylor is my icon. Fashionably late is my aesthetic. I was out to dinner with Joyce before hand she wants to get there right at 9:00. She said what's the worst thing about early. Everything. Literally everything.

Joyce was looking really cute that night. She had this cute nun look going that she'd gotten from Urban Outfitters. Frankly, she was trolling for men. I was thinking 10:00 would be a good time to stop by. I still thought it was still too early, but it was a polite time to show up.

We get there at 9:30. It was her and her roommate and her boyfriend. The same one who doesn't have a job and tried desperately to get with Joyce on tinder. He also said to her “I thought you were taller.” He can stop.

It was about 11:00 when things really started happening. That was an hour and half too long. Joyce had her screwdriver and I was sipping on my bottle vodka. This is when a few people from school arrive. One is everyone's favorite diplomat daughter from France.

Bottled Vodka

She's so funny. I love and fear her. She's one of those people that I feel could really fuck you up if she decided she didn't like you. She used to be best friends with the president of my school's GSA and did she talk some shit.

Yes she did.

She was turned up. This is the girl who parties in Miami on the weekend for the heck of it. Lit would be an understatement. Her and this very nice boy with a nose ring hot boxed. He's so sweet and I've never really talked to him. He's very quiet. Apparently, all he needs is a few joints and a Pabst Blue Ribbon to really open up.

The list of drugs he's done is extensive. I think the really question is what drugs hasn't he done. In other news the current art project he's working on includes lots of dicks. After all who doesn't like a big dick in the morning. Am I right?

The best part of the night was meeting the current flame of Joyce. Her last one looked like a Phineas and Ferb reject. This one was so good. He was gorgeous. A hairy Indiana Jones. He had just enough buttons undone that his chest hair was exposed.

Not only is he pretty, but he's also funny and politically correct and a fiction writer. That he said was just loosely based non fiction. Considering that his mother is an FBI agent and his father is a professional skateboarder I can't imagine it's dull.

He also smokes. I love the smell of cigarettes, so other then the fact that he's low key going to die young, I think that's sexy. He asked me if I wanted a cigarette just to hold. For a moment I thought I was in The Fault In Our Stars.

The clothes were also on point. A good pea coat. One that was probably warmer then mine. Some good pleated pants. As I said. Indian Jones. He was gorgeous.

Sure getting home at 4:00 in the morning was late for me. I'm a good gay who goes to bed at midnight. It was a late night. What I learned from that night is that there are a surprising number of people on the road in the morning and that low key parties are my aesthetic.

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Shady As Hell

8/22/2014

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This happened about six weeks ago. I have been wanting to tell you, but I was like this is so embarrassing. But, it really isn't. It's just who I am and if Tyler Oakley can tell us about his one night stand, where this man took his hair products, I can tell you this.

So, there I was on my way to the bank. I was going out to dinner with a friend I call Rosencrantz (Or is it Guildenstern?). I had to stop by the bank, so I would have money to tip the waiter. I looked hella good. I was wearing my tightest jeans, a good shirt, and actual shoes- not sandals. An improvement for me. I was even having a good hair day.

As I was driving out of my neighborhood, I pass this cop checking for speeders, and I say to myself if I was pulled over I would get out of the ticket, because of how attractive I look. Now, I have had a bad experience with a cop. I was driving home from school and this officer is following me. He follows me all the way. I have to make sure I'm not speeding, that I'm stopping all the way for stop signs, it was very stressful.

You can imagine then that I am surprised when this man turns his lights on to pull me over. Before he even gets to my windows he is yelling at me about one of my brake lights being out. I don't know why he couldn't have just told me it was out. I would have appreciated that. I would have been like, “Thank you, officer.” It could have been very pleasant, instead he gives me a fix it ticket, and I get that done.

But, from this point on, I avoid police officers. I appreciate what they do, but I don't want them near me. This is where I have started doing this shady as hell thing. Whenever I see an officer I pull over, I avoid them, I go a different way then them. Whatever it takes

I'm stopped at a red light. Then to my surprise, this squad car pulls up next to me. The light turns green and I'm going, but the officer will not pass me. I thought the speed limit was 45, but this man was refusing to go over 35, and I was not about to pass a cop.

At first chance I get, I pull into this gas station. Unbeknownst to me the officer was stopped at a red light, so I'm pulling around the gas station when Mr. Officer and I make eye contact as he proceeds to pass me. He knew I wasn't getting gas.

I think nothing of it and I get money out of the bank. I'm turning right out the bank and this cop car is behind me. I stop at the stop light and I'm like again?

I make my way through the red light and I have just crossed over the intersection when his lights come on. I'm not even sure I'm supposed to pull over, but the officer is very insistent so I do pull over. He gets out of his car, and I roll my window down (muting Miranda Lambert while I'm at it).

He asks me for my license and registration, and I ask him what I did wrong. Twice. He tells me I crossed over two lanes when I was turning left out of the bank. I wanted to call that bullshit. I made a right, but I said nothing.

He asks me about my driving record. I tell him I'm obnoxiously safe. He asks me if I've had any felonies. I look this man in the eyes and I told him “I'm eighteen.” No. I don't have any felonies. He then asks me if I had anything illegal in the car.

This is where I act shady as hell part two. I pause and I look at him. I had coolant in the back of the car, because I have a coolant leak. And, I wasn't sure if that was illegal. Not sure why I thought that, but still what I thought.

Then, he says to me did I have anywhere to be. Yes. I'm going out to dinner with a friend. I considered lying and saying it was a date, but I didn't. He ignores what he just heard and asks if he can search my car. No. Actually you can't. Of course I acquiesce, although I don't know why I did, don't you have to give them permission or something. I don't know.

So, I get out of the car and he says to me that he has to search me in order to make sure that I didn't have any deadly objects on me, needles.

NEEDLES

He said needles. Not a gun. Not a knife. A needle. That was the only deadly weapon he mentioned. As I told you. I was wearing my tightest jeans and a simple t-shirt on. No, I don't have a needle on me. He pats me down, probably realizing I didn't have anywhere to hide a needle, sits me down on a curb, and proceeds to search my car.

While, he's doing this I keep thinking back to this Charlie's Angels episode where this officer puts drugs in their car in order to have them arrested, so he can put them into a prostitution ring. Not likely, I realize, but I am freaking out. I would not do well in prison. I would do worse then So-So in Orange Is The New Black.

He comes back to me and asks me about this 'drug schedule' he found. Now if it was a drug schedule, why he thinks I would tell him is beyond me, but I tell him. No, sir that's just my work schedule, and that g that you think stands for grams is actually just a sloppy 9.

It all finally makes sense when he tells me that he wanted to know why I avoided him. This man was just doing his job, seeing someone acting shady as hell around a police officer. He was just looking for a reason to pull me over, to make sure I wasn't some infamous drug cartel leader.

I explain to him why I avoided him, he tells me I shouldn't do that. I vow never to do it again, although I'm actually just going to get smarter about it. He lectures me on why I shouldn't cross two lanes at once, when making a turn. Doesn't give me a ticket and tells me to enjoy my dinner out.Through all of this. May I just say that this officer was nothing but nice to me and it was truly appreciated. I just don't know why that other man couldn't have been as sympathetic.

The one thing I did learn from all of this is to never listen to Miranda Lambert's Platinum in the car. Nothing but bad things have happened to me when I've had it on. That friendship ending fight with Buttercup, happened when I had it on. I was targeted by the police when I had it on. It is just not a good album to bump and grind to on the public causeways of the United States of America.

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Melodrama puncutated with exclamation points.

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Dinner And A Murder

It's Not My Party

Shady As Hell

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