Ain't No Thing Like a Chicken Wing

I feel like crap right now. Anyway, why is it that when you're walking down the street feeling fresh with perfect hair, clear skin, and your awesome new shoes all you get is ogled by a creepy Mexican man looking you up and down saying "Jes, jes, jes..." but it's not until you're already three sheets, falling over, and have just eaten a plate of fries the size of your head (which NOT SURPRISINGLY makes your FACE look like a plate of fries) that you meet the charming sexy man of your dreams and he's Spanish and rich and his apartment overlooks the river?

This is a fact of life. It is also a fact -- and I did a scientific study last year to this effect -- that if for some reason the charming sexy man of your dreams takes your greasy ass home for a pity whatever (ahhh, The Spaniard, you are no longer a secret) you wake up with your face no longer looking like a plate of fries, having magically metamorphed to look like a chicken wing. It's like Pokemon. "Congratulations! Your GREASY evolved into GROSSY!"

Questions to ponder. I bring this up because while I met the Spaniard last year, I met the Jes Man on Sunday before Pride. Here ends the Introduction section of this post. Let's talk about Pride Weekend even though it's totally last month's news.

Pride was fun. Can that be all I say? Typing hurts my brain right now.

Fine, whatever, so I went to Lips for brunch where I was mocked by this SWINE of a drag queen ("What are you supposed to be? Harry Potter?? What, did chess club get cancelled?" AT LEAST I DON'T RECYCLE JOKES! I'll stupefy her ass! More like STUPIDFY!) Then we went to Pieces where a sexy guy on a drug cocktail hit on and touched ALL of my friends except for me. Is it crazy to want something you don't even want? STUPEFY! Also it rained.

Then I went to this awesome party at the Highline Ballroom called Color Me Queer. It was a South Asian gay party, which pretty much guaranteed me being the tallest one in there. Instant win! They were playing Bollywood music and American pop with a sort of Bollywood feel. Videos and all. VERY cool. Then this drag queen came out doing Indian dance, and I kinda fell in love.

But not in a sex way.

Ummmm, then I drank out of a fish bowl at a bar filled with 20-year-olds. Then I got irrationally mad at my friend's friend's friend for like two seconds and felt like a 15-year-old girl. Then I went home so my perceived age wouldn't plummet any lower.

Also, I found her:

Please ignore how ASSY and shiny I look in this picture. This was the end of a very long day. That's my friend Sam in the middle there.

Anyway happy belated Pride. I'm gonna go vomit up my hangover now.