Letters to Internet Creepsters Parts I & II

Me pretending not to see you.  You pretending not to see me.  Forcing a veil of cordiality as our mutual friends introduce us to each other for the first time again.  You’re making eyes again.  “You going to that one bar later?”  The one we pretended not to see each other at last time?  Yeah.  Yeah, I’ll be there.  I’ll see [through] you there.

I’ve been blacked out drunk for about half of the interactions that we’ve shared.  Not sure if I’ve actually made out with you or if that’s part of a dream I had.  I would like to.  I’m glad you invited me over.  Your friends are just as damaged as me.  It’s been a while since I’ve come across an entirely new circle of people.  It’s been a while since I’ve crowded at a mirror with 10 other people to do eyeliner.  It’s been a while since I’ve come across a venue that will play the Cocteau Twins followed by the Presets without missing a beat.  This [dark-hearted] Boy’s In Love (lust).

-Awk. Nites.

Letters to Hookups II: Chest Tat

Oh Dark-Hearted Chest-Tat Boy, why are you so complicated (by avril lavigne)??  You came on strong at first…   “You’re coming home with me right??  Ok good [grabs dick].”  Ur It-Girl friend took a keut pic of us each sucking on one of her nipples.  Still remember the smell of ur room.  Lube and poppers, poppers and lube.  And then the dreaded Friend Territory [cue dissonant organ chord].

I had basically accepted the shift to friendship.  Movie nights, platonic sleepovers, group brunches, Dairy Queen runs.  Maybe it’s just the atmosophere at that one bar.  Maybe it’s something in the water (or booze more likely).  Every time our paths cross there, it’s all grabby grabby, kissy kissy, bathroom tryst-y.  Gotta say, no one has ever walked up and made out with me whilst I was mid-pee at a urinal.  Kinda hot tho.

But then, THEN you go and steal my signature move.  “I’ll be right back.”  And then you’re off into the night like what could have been.  You’re probably a physical manifestation of karma for all the boys I’ve done that to.

Whatevvvvv.  I’m in for the ride either way.  Let’s start some trouble, make some mistakes, and not learn a fucking thing from them.

Ur Dark-Hearted Partner in Crime,

-Awkie Nightie

Stars Don’t Lie

Sometimes the stars just align.  Sometimes your favorite bodywash is on sale super cheap (I bought 3 bottles).  Sometimes the lesbians with the best party favors seek you out at 4am straight dive bars.

For the most accurate reenactment, read the following at 8,000mph:

“Ohmigod you are so CUTE where are you from? Europe mostly? where does that jawline come from? Sweden maybe? seriously adorable, no, listen to me I’m a big fat fucking dyke, when a dyke says you’re hot it’s really fucking important, what sign are you? Aries? oooo bossy, no? not bossy? then you’re the other kind, sit around sponging in information about people until you can use it against them, stars don’t lie, do you play? because I have some nice toys, step into my office.”

[5 minutes later, in a women's bathroom stall]

“Are you ready for this? just a lil bump, a lil bumpity bump, do you like this spoon? I stole it from a tea shop, careful now this shit is straight outta Columbia, Columbian Gold, nice nice nice, you clear me, I clear you, ok girl tuck your dick, this is vag country.”

[holding my hand and walking me through a confused pack of women's bathroom inhabitants]

“Outta the way! just a couple of ladies coming through! make way for the V.I.P.”

Doesn’t get much more random than that.

-Awk Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiites.

Zombies and Rubber and Trannies, Oh My!

Bruce LaBruce, bless your dear heart!  Only you could combine the elements of gay porn, zombie horror, comedy, and political commentary into one film.  Such was the occassion for me donning zombie makeup and venturing out into a cold Sunday night for flesh-eating debauchery.

Started at a friend’s house for makeup and primping.  Walked over to the theatre and got a lil boozey while mingling with other gay zombies.  The event started with a horror punk band with an utterly adorable female singer in a pink latex nurse’s uniform.  Her lyrics were fucking hilarious, including such gems as, “Every time I cum I vomit.”  The film was everything I expected and more.  The finale was a writhing zombie orgy of pale bodies covered in blood-lube.  My friend couldn’t stay out any later, but I was done-up so I decided to hit up some drinking establishments of ill-repute.

At the first stop, I unexpectedly had a bunch of drinks bought for me and danced with a bunch of trannies.  This place was kind of my old stomping ground so I kept getting these weird, knowing stares from guys.  Did I make out with them?  Did I get drunk and take my clothes off last time I was here?  Maybe both.  Anyways, it was weirding me out so I decided to leave that shark tank for another.  This is where shit got craycee…

Not only were there a bunch of dark-hearted gay zombies milling about, it was ALSO International Male Rubber night.  If you don’t know what that means, just picture a bunch of guys in skin-tight fetish costumes comprised entirely of latex.  I was getting pretty O.O.C. by this point, so let me share the glimpses that stand out from the fog.

-Extended crotch grab from a tranny named Paris and her two male cohorts.

-Caressed lube over the costume of a particularly fit rubberman.

-Received a scalp massage from two dark-hearted goth-gays.

-Became entangled in the middle of an end-of-the-night dance train with a slew of dark-hearts donning various amounts of latex.

-Confronted by various internet creepsters I.R.L. (eek!!).

This, Awkers, is just a peek into my Sunday evening.  I’m sure I’ll recall more highlights as my hangover wears off, but jeez!  You kids don’t need to know everything!  I have to retain SOME degree of mystery (ha!).

-Awk.Nites 2.0

Halloween!!!

Awkers- I’m not going to make any promises… but it appears the hiatus may be over.  I was burnt out on these drunken ramblings.  That is… until a weekend… SO awkward… I had to write about it.  That’s right.  HALLOWEEN!!

Halloween has long been an important part of my life.  Me being a dark-hearted, maladjusted queer with a closet full of craycee clothes.  This would indeed be a Halloween to reckon.  My first in this fair city I now call home.

Awkers, awkers, how do I convey these events to you, my loyal readers?  As I remember them? (a drunken blur; snapshots of moments that may or may not have actually occurred).  As I’ve been told by others? (a mess of round after round of shots)  As documented by party pix? (making out with lesbians… again).  Let’s take a somewhat novel approach and go costume by costume.  You see, I wore a total of 3 costumes this year (perhaps to make up for being a zebra for 2 years in a row prior).

Night One: Dexter (the serial killer, not the cartoon).

Got myself all did-up and started the night with a particularly stiff pre-bar libation (this always turns out bad).  I tell myself it’s to save money… but really I end up spending the same amount at the bar and just blacking out.

I remember taking tons of pictures syringing people in the neck (ala Dexter) which actually turned out to be a great way to hit on boys.  From what I can recall, I made out with an alt mummy (via chewing gum handoff) and a goth drag nurse.  Photo evidence would suggest I made out with some of my leslie friends (via XTRM drunken confusion).

The night steadily became a haze until I woke up next to an empty box of frozen White Castle burgers.  OH NO!!  Alas, it was technically my cheat day by then, so it’s all good.

Night Two: Leather Bear.

I had a concept for my leather bear costume in the back of my head, but waited until the last second to implement it.  Maybe that’s why I had to cut the ears off of a teddy bear and sew them onto a shoelace during the last hour of work.

Ok, I’m not one for vanity, but I LOOKED FUCKING ADORABLE.  Trolling my way up and down Fag Ave (you know the one).  Did a repeat makeout with goth drag nurse (boo repeat costume).  Met up with gay, Asian Jesus.  Eye-fucked our way through some bar lines.  Got my buzz on in a hurry.  Then I saw the bartender I made out with a couple months ago at industrial night.  He DEF didn’t look as good as I remembered, so I had to duck out of there.

Decided to meet my Thai leslie friend at the leslie bar to formulate a plan for the impending after-bar hours.  Thai leslie and her friends/coworkers were there in full force.  Her friend that regularly hits on me was courting a sugar daddy (a tragic one at that).  Got a lil buzzier and decided to migrate to a late night bar (via cab financed by sugar daddy).

Drank mad booze financed by sugar daddy, danced into the night, then played truth or dare in a restaurant with some new friends.

Night Three: Eurotrash Vampire.

Eurotrash vampire was a last second costume concept that came together surprisingly well.  Gathered the clothes and accessories and brought them to college friend’s house to do pre-bar and makeup.  She was a Glam Witch (cute, right?).  Then we hit the town.

Most of the bars were boring (or we were the only ones dressed up) so we decided to head straight to the late night bar.  This is probably where I went wrong.  The curtain of blackness dropped just after I saw the dark-hearted, chest-tat boy I hooked up with (on poppers) one week prior.

COMPLETE BLACKNESS

The Morning After

I woke up face down in my bed, wearing jeans and clutching my phone.  What happened?  Where am I?  Did I do coke?  I am MINUS a jacket, a cameo ring, and my dignity.  I am PLUS some mystery bruises and a brutal hangover.  I realize my phone is beeping with a text from dark-hearted, chest-tat boy.  Reply: “hell fucking yes i want pancakes.”

So over breakfast (at 2pm) I find out that ALLEGEDLY…

-I bought round after round of whiskey shots

-I fell into/onto a car outside

-I puked on a welcome mat

-I initiated an impromptu dance party at an apartment

-I disappeared out the door of said apartment randomly

-Yes, I did do coke

It has now been 3 days since Halloween weekend and I am still discovering things I allegedly did/said through pictures, texts, and myspace messages/friend requests.  Do I even have to say it, awkers?

I’M STILL AWKWARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!